Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2) (14 page)

He is jealous.
Hope sputtered to life
and she dropped her hands to her sides. "It's not like that with
him, Asher. I'm sorry if you—"

"Damn it, why not?" Asher gently eased out of
Cedric's ass and stood. "I've never stopped you from doing whatever
you wanted with other guys!"

"I know that." She frowned, confused. "But
you know it doesn't mean anything. I love you!"

"Silver, I'm gay."

"And? That's never mattered before!"

"And how long did you think we could go on
like this?
Seriously?
" He sighed and raked his hair away
from his face. "Look, we've had fun, but I'm done. You need things
I can't give you. I'd hoped you'd find someone before—"

"Before what?" She ground her teeth and
looked from Asher to Cedric, who'd covered himself with the bed
sheet. "Are you breaking up with me?"

Cedric hunched his shoulders and muttered.
"We're getting married."

The weight of his words hit her gut like a
cement block. "You're what?"

"I proposed last night. Cedric said yes."
Asher's tone was steady, almost defiant, as though he expected an
argument.

Closing her eyes, Silver leaned against the
doorframe and did her best to fill her lungs with air.
I put
myself out there for this? For a 'we don't want you anymore'?
"This doesn't make any sense. The way you acted last night . . . I
thought . . . ."

Asher sighed. "Silver, I still care about
you. I don't like that guy. He's pushy and arrogant and if it gets
out that you're fooling around with the players after what happened
with Oriana—"

"Fooling around with the players?" She let
out a bitter laugh and locked down on her emotions. They were
fucking useless anyway. Her tone became a cold, mocking thing
oozing between her lips. "Because I'm hanging around with one
guy?"

"People will talk."

"Let them. I really don't give a fuck." Her
lips curled. "Think of the publicity. It'll be good for the
team."

That's right. The team is all that matters.
It's all Daddy's ever turned to you for. And he wanted you to get
rid of Asher and Cedric anyway.

"It wasn't when Oriana did it." Asher took a
step towards her, brow furrowed, eyes strained. "Don't do anything
stupid, Silver. I know you're pissed, but with your
reputation—"

"My reputation." Giving him a curt nod, she
swiveled on her heels, tossing words over her shoulder like she
didn't have a care in the world. "About time I lived up to it,
don't you think?"

* * * *

Silver considered going straight to the
locker room when she got to the forum. The images of stripping
right in front of all those big men, still soaked with sweat from
practice, had her pulse racing. The elevator doors closed twice
before she forced herself inside and jammed her finger on the
button for the fourth floor. In her office she paced back and
forth, back and forth, willing herself to feel nothing, but all the
while feeling too much. Erotic images filled her mind—Asher with
Cedric, which hurt because they were moving on without her. Then
she recalled her night with Dean . . .

No! Not Dean. Don't
think about
him. If he knew . . .

Groaning, she left her office and went to the
bathroom. She wet her hands with cold water and smoothed them over
her throat, ignoring the droplets that scattered over her hot pink
silk shirt. Hands braced on the edge of the sink, she tried to
bring order to the chaos in her mind. Why did this bother her so
much? Fine, she felt a little used, but in all honesty, she'd used
them too. For almost a year she'd called them her boyfriends,
enjoying both the stability and the freedom of having them in her
life. Asher understood when she had a bad day some rough sex would
make it all better. Better sex than drugs, right?

But she should have known, should have
suspected, that one day their carefree little arrangement would
end. Leaving her alone.

Stop it.
She scowled at herself in the
mirror.
You don't want a relationship anyway. You want a good
fuck.

Yes. A good fuck and everything would make
sense again.

So where to?
A snarky voice in her
head demanded.
The locker room or the closest bar?

"Uck. When did you get so desperate?" She
turned her back on her reflection and fished in her purse for . . .
there,
gummy bears. A mouthful got her thinking clearly
again. She really wasn't up to throwing herself at another man. Not
after Asher rejecting her. Not after what had happened with
Dean.

Why the hell couldn't she get him out of her
head? She had the strangest urge to see him. And it wouldn't go
away. Back in her office, she buried herself in her work. But then
considered going to ask him about the budget for the
renovations.

The numbers are right there. Figure it
out.

But she couldn't focus. Every time she
blinked, she pictured him, holding her down, telling her he could
give her what she needed. Taking control and overriding all her
objections. The images made her just as wet as his actions had. She
wanted him again, no matter how often she tried to tell herself
otherwise.

Did you forget him ratting you out to
Daddy?

No. She hadn't forgotten. But they needed to
be able to work together. And to tell the truth, she'd forced his
hand.

You're just looking for excuses to see
him.

Maybe she was—she stood and undid the first
few buttons of her shirt. Not that any excuse would matter. One
look at her and he'd know exactly why she was there.

You might want a legitimate one, just in
case. That way you won't be completely humiliated when he rejects
you too.

* * * *

Dean trudged into his office and threw his
suit jacket over his desk chair. Usually he hung around during
training camp to see how the men were doing, but he just couldn't
focus today. All he kept hearing, over and over, was his daughter
saying 'I hate you'.

Why? Because her mother had called, making
her monthly effort to show interest in her only child, and he
hadn't found out until
after
he lectured Jami about staying
up all hours drinking with her friends. Hell, he hoped she was just
drinking. The way she'd blown up at him, screaming for him to
'leave her the fuck alone', made him wonder. After she'd broken
down and told him her mother was pregnant . . . damn it, the right
words just wouldn't come. She refused to let him hug her, or tell
her it didn't matter. She blamed him for everything, told him he
was a control freak and that's why her mother had left them.

And maybe she was right. Macy had been
interested in being a submissive when they first got together, but
her interest waned—having a Dom in real life didn't live up to what
she'd read in romance novels. He'd loved her so much he'd done his
best to fit into the vanilla lifestyle she seemed to want, but it
wasn't enough.

Thank God that's over.
At very least
he didn't have to pretend anymore. Dominance wasn't a game for him,
wasn't something he could switch on and off at will. Nor would he.
Even now, just thinking about taking one of the many willing subs
at the club, eased some of the tension from his body. A shallow
relief, because none of them belonged to him, but there were
benefits to that as well. He didn't have the time for a 24/7 style
relationship, what with a team to run and a daughter to raise.

And yet . . . he shook his head and let out a
gruff laugh. Ever since he'd seen that woman in pink—even after
learning that woman was Silver—the idea of taking on a sub of his
own had taken root and wouldn't be shaken. Not just any sub
either.

You can't have Silver. She doesn't want
this.

His office door creaked open and he looked
up.

Silver stared at him, lips parted, eyes wide.
"Dean?"

He smiled and rested one hand on his desk.
"Can I help you?"

"No." She licked her bottom lip, one hand on
the doorknob, knuckles white. "I don't know."

Like hell she doesn't want this.
The
woman he saw before him wasn't the one who'd fucked with his team,
who'd cursed him out, who'd left his bed in the middle of the
night. She was the vulnerable woman who'd attracted him at the
club. The one who needed what he had to offer. He straightened and
held out his hand. "Come here."

She took three steps before losing her nerve,
but he met her halfway and circled her waist with his arms, backing
her into the door to close it as he claimed her lips. She moaned in
his mouth as he explored her with his tongue and the sound tore a
growl from his throat. Her small body trembled and pressed against
his, begging without words. He ground himself into her soft belly,
letting her feel the effect she had on him.

Then he slid his lips along her jaw and
whispered in her ear. "Tell me what you want."

"Fuck me." She curved her neck against his
mouth and raked her fingers into his hair. "Just fuck me."

His eyes narrowed, but he kept his lips on
her throat so she wouldn't catch his response to her crude demand.
His tone was gruff when he spoke. "And what do you need?"

"Need?" She whimpered as he bit into the
flesh above her collar. "What do you mean?"

He brought his hand up to frame her jaw and
forced her to look at him. "You came to me, pet. There are other
men, but you came to me. I won't make this easy on you."

"I don't care." She met his steady gaze for
an instant, then her wet lashes fluttered shut. "Tell me what to
do. I don't want to have to think about it."

He hated that word.
Want
. But what she
wanted and what she needed were one and the same at the moment, so
he let it go. Bracing her with one hand under her elbow, he stepped
back.

"Strip."

"Here?" She watched him lock the door and her
throat worked as she swallowed. "But . . . I'm wearing a
skirt."

Dean folded his arms over his chest. "I won't
repeat myself, pet."

"Pet." She shook her head even as she brought
her fingers to the buttons on her blouse. "Will it always be like
this
with you?"

"Yes." His lips curved slightly. "But that
isn't a problem, is it?"

"Not now it isn't." She removed her shirt,
then her skirt, hesitating when he arched a brow. "Everything?"

"Everything." He reached out and touched her
cheek with his fingertips. "You're not ashamed of your body. Why
deny me?"

She closed her eyes, removed her bra and
panties, gasping in air as though the question had stole it from
her. "I feel more naked with you."

"Good." He latched onto her wrist and drew
her to his desk, sweeping papers aside before lifting her up and
sitting her on the edge. "I want you naked. Physically. Mentally."
He curved his hand around her throat with just enough pressure to
open her eyes and quicken her pulse. "Don't try to hide from me,
Silver. I won't allow it."

Shaking her head, she grabbed his collar and
leaned forward. "You don't get it. I need to be fucked hard. That's
it."

"That's not all you need." He grabbed her
hands and tugged, laying her out on the desk. "Listen to me, pet.
We will
not
fuck." Admitting it out loud made his dick throb
painfully, but he continued without pause. "I will take my time and
enjoy each and every inch of you. And when I'm done, you'll thank
me."

Her hands fisted and she tried to sit up.
"Like hell I will!"

He chuckled and smoothed a hand over her
quivering belly, lowering his head to lick one very hard little
nipple. "Or maybe you'll thank me before I'm done. After I make you
come once, twice—it doesn't matter. You'll say the words. Or scream
them."

A gasp escaped her as he thrust his fingers
into her hot, wet pussy. When she wiggled her hips, he sucked her
nipple into his mouth and bit just hard enough to warn her to stop
moving.

She took the hint and went perfectly
still.

"What do you say, Silver?"

"Yes." Her body bowed as he drove his fingers
in deep. "Yes, Sir!"

You're mine, sweetheart.
He used his
thumb to stimulate her clit and rose up to kiss her swollen lips.
You just don't know it yet.

* * * *

The desk warmed under Silver's body and her
sweat slicked the glossed wood surface. Dean's fingers inside her,
his lips on her breast, his hand holding hers high over her
head—all kept her from moving much. But her heart fought to beat
free of her ribcage and she squirmed restlessly as he teased her to
the brink, slowing before she could throw herself over the edge.
This wasn't at all what she'd planned, and yet, it felt too good to
let protests leave the wide O of her lips. Dean was right.
Somewhere, deep within, she'd known what he would demand from her.
He'd told her once that dominance was part of the package—not in so
many words, but she couldn't act like she didn't know what he was
about. Maybe it would be an issue if things went long term—
which
they won't, so don't even go there—
but right now surrendering
meant not thinking. And she didn't want to think. She needed to
feel.

He slapped her pussy and she cried out as
painful pleasure ripped through her. "You're leaving me, little
one. You will be with me completely or I will take you off my desk
and see you to the door."

No! I can't leave!
She twisted her
trapped wrists and tossed her head. "I'm sorry. I'm here. I was
just thinking—"

"Don't." His thumb pressed hard on her clit
and her hips jerked as the sensation electrified her. He lowered
his lips to her belly and found a spot that had her twitching and
gasping uncontrollably. "You will have to think about this later.
For now, all you need to know is you are mine. And, lucky for you,
I'm in the mood to play."