Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2) (47 page)

Dean's fingers dug into her hips as he
hammered into her. He bit her shoulder and growled. "Yes, you
can."

The abrupt filling burned, all around both
men, stretching her. She cried out as they both pounded into her.
Dean's dick stirred as Landon gave a few shallow thrusts. The
discordant pleasure threw her off her perch of control and she
clawed at the back of Landon's neck as they rode her hard. Sweat
beaded on her brow and trickled down her back as she struggled to
keep up with them. Dean lapped up her spine even as Landon pressed
his teeth into her throat and bit down. Carnal flames burst
within.

You selfish cunt!
She inhaled deep and
did her best to bury her pleasure.
You've taken enough! Give
them something!

"I can't stop!" She cried out as Dean
pistoned in and out. "Please come with me."

Landon bowed up as Dean dropped down.

"I'm with you, mignonne."

"
We're
with you."

She felt them burst within and accepted her
own release as they enfolded her in muscle and heat. Her whole body
split open and her head struck Dean's shoulder as she threw it back
and screamed. The violent quakes inside her came over and over,
tensing until all her muscles were locked into the throws of
pleasure.

Perfectly still, she held her breath and
waded into tranquility, afraid it would toss her into oblivion.
Neither man moved.

"Silver?" Landon rose up on his elbows and
stared at her. "Tell me you're okay."

Easy enough. "I'm okay."

"Like you mean it."

Uck, since you put it that way . . .
Was she okay? She winced as Dean pulled out. Well, for one, she was
a little sore, but not bad sore. And the sex had been fucking
awesome. But . . .

She swallowed and slid her hips upwards, off
Landon. Her thoughts flew into a vicious storm, wildly accessing
what she had just done. She'd fucked him. All that time she'd just
wanted her friend back, and now that she had him, the first thing
she'd done was fucked him.

It wasn't like that. You didn't fuck
him.

Then what
had
she done? Had she
finally managed to completely ruin one of the best things she'd
ever had?

"Mignonne." Landon tugged her down, facing
him, and whispered in her ear. "Talk to me."

She groaned at the sudden urge to break down
and cry. "It's going to sound stupid, but I still want us to be
friends."

"Tu me rends fou." Landon nipped her earlobe
and laughed. "We can still be friends, but we both need more."

"I know, but I'm going to miss that fun
stuff."

"So you think I'm going to be boring
now?"

Still a bit sniffly, she buried her face in
the pillow. Uncontrollable giggles overtook her and she did her
best to muffle them before gasping out. "Well, you are a Dom."

The
smack!
Dean laid on her ass echoed
over Landon's laughter. She sat up with a yelp.

Dean shoved her back down. "Are you
comfortable being shared by us, dragonfly?"

"Yes . . . ." She rested on her side, looking
from Landon, to Dean. "If you are?"

"Sweetheart, if I wasn't okay with this,
Landon wouldn't be here." Dean punched Landon's shoulder, then
plopped onto his back and rolled Silver against his side. "What's
that look for, goalie?"

"I'm not used to you calling me Landon."
Landon shrugged and stretched out on her other side. "But I am
grateful that you included me. You didn't have to."

"Yes. I did." Dean wounded a strand of her
hair around his fingers and smiled at her. "I promised I wouldn't
make her choose. I'm just happy she didn't decide she liked Demyan
better. I don't think I could stomach sharing a bed with him."

Her skin crawled as she pictured Demyan in
Landon's place. He wasn't a bad guy, really, but he didn't look at
her like Landon did. Like she was special. Her nose wrinkled as
something occurred to her. "You would have let me choose him?"

"Honestly?" Dean shifted over a bit. Elbow on
the bed, he settled his head in his hand. "I don't know. If I
thought you needed him, maybe. But it became pretty clear tonight
that you don't."

"Am I that easy to read?"

"I wish you were." Dean touched her cheek and
sighed. "This would have happened sooner."

"Put the blame where it belongs." Landon
shook his head and grinned. "Then again, maybe it's better things
turned out the way they did. I wouldn't have been as generous as
Dean is."

"That can change any time, asshole." Dean
gave Landon a lazy smile. "Leave her again like you did and you'll
see what happens."

Landon inclined his head. "So noted." His
eyes widened. "Oh, speaking of which, I have something for you,
Silver."

Like she needed anything else? What she had
already was more than she could possibly have hoped for. "What is
it?"

He leaned over the bed and came up with a
folded blanket. "I got this for you . . . I figured you could use
it when we watch movies or . . . ." His brow furrowed. "During
aftercare."

As he spread the blanket over her, she
fingered the extremely soft fabric and admired the brilliant
colors. A southwestern pattern with simple geometric shapes in red
and blue, split by a rich tan length.

"I know it probably won't go with anything at
your place, but—"

"Landon, I love it." She patted the bed
beside her. "And anyway, nothing goes with my place right now,
including my own stuff. Dean said he'd come over and help me fix
it. This blanket gives me some ideas, so thank you."

Dean curved against her back and stroked the
blanket over her shoulder. "Yes, I think I could work with these
colors. Anything is better than your Pepto Bismol decor."

"Pepto Bismol?" The mattress groaned as
Landon laid down, and for the first time, Silver got a chance to
really take in how big he was. His arms were thicker than her
thighs and everything about him was hard as molded steel. Except
for his eyes and his lips.

They could be though. She ducked her head as
his lips formed a tender smile and resumed exploring him. He had a
large tattoo on his right side, over his ribs. A tribal style
phoenix rising from broken glass—no, from a shattered shell. A
ribbon above the phoenix bore a date in roman numerals and part of
a familiar poem was written across the center of the phoenix were
the dark lines faded.

She read the words in a whisper. "Take this
kiss upon the brow, and, in parting from you now, thus much let me
avow--You are not wrong, who deem that my days have been a dream.
Yet if hope has flown away, in a night, or in a day. In a vision,
or in none, is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem,
is but a dream within a dream."

Landon silently watched her.

"Tell me about it, Landon." She trailed her
fingers over the ribbon. "I need to know."

"Do you?" He extended his hand and slipped
his fingers into her hair to touch her scar. "And when will you
tell me about this?"

"Soon."

He nodded slowly. "All right. Well, I'll tell
you about this soon too."

"Like tomorrow?"

"Sure." He pressed her head down to his chest
and spoke over her. "You sure it's okay for me to crash here
tonight?"

"Yeah. It's fine." Dean murmured into her
hair. "Place is usually empty. You can stay here as long as you
need to."

"What if I want him to stay at my place?"
Silver moved to turn and face Dean, but Landon trapped her hand on
his chest and Dean dropped his arm over her hip. "Uck! You guys
don't get to decide everything!"

"While we're still in the bedroom, pet, yes,
we do," Dean said.

Him and his rules. She rolled her eyes, glad
neither of them could see her doing it. "Fine. But we will discuss
this when we're not in the bedroom."

"We'll discuss whatever you want, mon petit
chaton." Landon yawned. "In the morning. Tais toi maintenant."

Dean snorted.

"You understand French?" Strands of hair
spilled into her mouth as she turned her head as far as she could.
She stopped glaring when Dean pulled her hair away from her face.
"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"So what did he say?"

"Be quiet."

How fucking rude.
"Why—"

"That's what he said." Dean grinned and
kissed her nose. "And I think it's an excellent idea."

"All right, but I'm making a new rule." She
pursed her lips. "No more saying things I can't understand."

"You don't make the rules, pet."

"You're such a—"

"Careful."

"Arg! Fine!" She pressed her face into
Landon's shoulder to hold back a laugh. Sometimes, the whole sub
thing felt like walking a tightrope, arousing to try and stay in
line, even more so dreading what would happen if she slipped. Then
there were times like this when it was just plain fun. With Dean
anyway. So far Landon wasn't much of a
fun
Dom.

"Actually, 'Tranquilles' is 'be quiet'."
Landon eased away from her and his eyes shone with mirth. "I told
you to shut up."

"Oh you—!" She snatched up a pillow and swung
it at him. He caught it, pulling as she lunged forward.

They both fell off the side of the bed.
Landon let out a loud grunt.

"Mind not breaking my goalie?" Dean called
out.

"
Your
goalie?" Silver folded her hands
over Landon's chest and bent down to kiss him. "Screw that. He's
all mine."

Dull grey fog hovered outside the bedroom
window and a chill crept under the blanket. Dean rolled onto his
side and opened his eyes in slits to take in the empty bed. Light
laughter broke out from beyond the partially closed door. He caught
the scent of bacon and cursed.

His first step speared pain from his knee
straight up into his thigh. He staggered forward and glanced at his
cane, propped against the wall by the closet.

Oh, hell no.
He drew himself up to his
full height and strode as steadily as he could from the bedroom to
the kitchen. Folding his arms over his chest, he leaned on the
doorframe and grinned.

"Got yourself in trouble already this
morning, dragonfly?"

Sitting naked in the middle of the small
round wooden table, Silver had her arms bound behind her back in a
simple, yet efficient arm tie. A quick bit of rope work, the kind
he often used in capture fantasy.

Silver pouted at him, but didn't answer.

"Hungry, boss?" Landon brought two plates to
the table. Eggs, bacon, beans—the works. He snickered when Dean
eyed his un-scorched kitchen. "I picked this up from the diner down
the street. I've learned my lesson."

"Good man." Dean pulled up a chair and dug
right in. He thanked Landon for the coffee he set before him, then
eyed Silver. "So what's with the table ornament?"

Landon shrugged. "I don't like grumpy subs
first thing in the morning. She snapped at me when I asked her what
she'd like for breakfast and then told me to just 'get some fucking
coffee'."

Dean shook his head as he chewed on a nice
greasy piece of bacon. His brow furrowed as he looked Silver over.
She mustn't have been there very long, but—

"Don't worry, I didn't leave her here like
this while I was gone." A muscle in Landon's cheek twitched.
"Actually, I tried to take it easy on her. Asked her to set the
table. Came back to find her still sitting here, sulking."

"Well, she's certainly not a morning person."
He smiled at her over his cup as he recalled the last time she'd
been moody with him in the morning. "Not usually anyway."

Silver ducked her head as she blushed.

"I don't expect little miss sunshine at the
crack of dawn, but I won't tolerate nastiness." Landon held a
forkful of eggs up to Silver. "And we've spoken about her eating
habits."

"I see." Dean watched the younger man feed
Silver, wondering whether or not he should interfere. Landon's
strict training might come in handy during a scene, but Silver
wouldn't enjoy being micromanaged. "She's always had a healthy
appetite with me."

Landon sat back and frowned. "If you've got a
problem with how I'm handling things, just say so."

"Landon, if I had a problem, I would. The two
of you will have to negotiate your relationship." Dean shoved some
beans into his mouth. The pain in his knee hiked up to a level that
couldn't be ignored any longer. His stomach turned as he pictured
either going through the day with his cane and some painkillers, or
toughing it out. The dampness of fall near the ocean made the
latter almost laughable. But his pride didn't see it that way. He
pushed his plate away from him and braced to stand with his face as
blank as possible. "I'm going to take a shower. I won't be long if
either of you need a lift."

"Wait." Silver inhaled and looked from him to
Landon. "Please untie me, Sir."

"Silver, I told you—"

"Red."

Landon's colored dropped. He shot out of his
seat and went around behind her to untie the knots. "Why didn't you
tell me you were hurting? I asked you—"

"This isn't about me." Silver hopped off the
table and brushed by Landon, coming up to kneel in front of Dean.
"What's wrong?"

Dean smiled down at her and grazed his
knuckles down her cheek. "Nothing, pet."

"Don't fucking lie to me." She stood and held
her hand up towards Landon when he made an angry sound. "Look, I
want this, with both of you. It's kinda exciting to know I can get
punished for being naughty, even if I rarely enjoy the punishment.
And sometimes it just makes me feel like you know I can do better.
But I think I have the right to expect things from you too. Like
some goddamn honesty."

"I'm sorry." Landon rubbed his hand over his
face. "If I went too far—"

"I'm not mad at you!" She jabbed her finger
into Dean's chest. "I'm mad at you! I'm supposed to tell you when
something's wrong, right? Or is that just during a scene?"