Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2) (48 page)

"I think we have more than the scenes, my
love." Holy shit, she was sexy all fired up with concern for him.
And she was right. He sighed and took her hands between his. "The
weather makes my knee act up. It's damp and cold and—"

"And . . . ?"

Pushy little thing.
But again, he
would be pissed if she hid her pain from him. He sighed. "And it
hurts like a motherfucker."

"Do you have anything for it?" She blinked.
"Your cane! Oh my god, how could I have forgotten? Why aren't you
using it?"

He frowned. "Because I hate the stupid
thing." His lips quirked. "Unless I'm using it on a mouthy little
sub's butt."

"Can't see you doing that if you can't stand
up straight. You'd get in what? One hit? Maybe two?" Silver folded
her arms over her bare breasts. "If you're going to beat me, at
least make it worth my while. Now please tell me you have pain
meds."

"I'll get the cane," Landon said.

The young Dom, such a stickler for protocol
and discipline, with just enough experience to know what he was
doing, but not enough to bend into a full time relationship, had
surrendered. What hope did Dean have?

He brought Silver's hands up to his lips and
kissed her fingers. "They're in the cabinet above the stove."

Her expression softened. She quickly went to
get him his meds and a bottle of water from the fridge. Then she
sat across from him, watching him as though she didn't trust him to
take the painkillers if she looked away.

After popping the pills into his mouth, he
washed them down with a few gulps of water. Smiled at her.

She frowned at him. "Don't ever do that
again."

"I won't." He held still, then exhaled
heavily when she grinned. "You're quite a force, little one." He
accepted his cane from Landon and laughed. "Little piece of advice,
goalie. Don't piss her off."

Landon pulled Silver to her feet and hugged
her from behind. "Don't I know it."

Silver shot an impish grin at Landon over her
shoulder, then back at Dean. "So long as you two know your
place."

Dean barked out a laugh. Oh, he knew it. And
for once, he saw Silver not as a woman he'd eventually have to let
go, but as a woman who wouldn't let go of him.

Funny how she'd flipped things on him. He
didn't know how things would be a year from now, or ten years from
now. But he had a very good feeling all three of them would be
there to find out.

* * * *

Silver drove Dean to work, but Landon decided
he needed some exercise and ran the distance. Crazy man. Still, she
couldn't help but wonder if he'd done that to give her and Dean
some time alone.

"So what do you have planned for the day?"
Dean asked as he walked her to her office, leaning heavily on his
cane. He'd ignored her suggestion to go to his own office and take
the weight off his knee.

And
she
was stubborn? She wrinkled her
nose as she answered his question. "I've got to convince five more
guys to pose for the magazine I hooked up with. I've already got
Scott and . . . "

His brow shot up. "Sebastian? He really makes
you uncomfortable, doesn't he?"

"Not as much as before. It's just . . . the
way he talks . . . ." She rubbed her arms as a chill skittered
along her flesh. "He was the first man I even considered submitting
to. It was almost like I couldn't help it."

"Oh, sweetheart." He opened his arms and she
leaned into him, feeling safe as she always did when he was around.
He stroked her back and spoke softly. "It will be different now.
Trust me. He's a good Dom and he knows you're with me. If his
reputation is anything to go by, he'll keep a respectful distance.
At work, you're the team's owner. At the club, he'll expect you to
treat him like any other Dom. But not like
your
Dom." He
tipped her chin up with a finger. "Understand?"

"I think so." For a split second, she wanted
to ask him to come with her to lay siege on the men. It would be
easier for him to convince them to get in front of the cameras. But
she wouldn't. This was her job and she'd manage just fine on her
own. "See you around lunch?"

"I look forward to it." He kissed her and
slowly moved away, his spine stiff as he made his way down the
hall, obviously trying not to limp.

It took everything she had to leave him and
go into her office to collect her things. She wanted to stay with
him, make sure he was okay, but he wouldn't appreciate that any
more than she would in his position. So she grabbed her files and
checked the clock. Then groaned.

The players wouldn't show up for practice
until 9. Which meant she had an hour with nothing to do but sit
here and try to figure out how the hell she'd handle them. She
slumped into her chair and flipped open the file. The magazine had
requested certain players, not including Scott and Sebastian, which
made thing a bit easier because the editor had faxed her Friday to
tell her either, or both, would be perfect.

Which left her with five players who'd
refused to commit. Carter had been all for it at first, but had
pulled out after he healed enough to face that his scars wouldn't
fade much more. Christ, he was still a damn good looking guy, but
he'd turned down all interviews and still wore a full cage mask on
the ice.

Of course, there was one other man on the
list, who was quite comfortable with his own scars, who could
convince Carter he had nothing to be ashamed of.

There's no way he'll do it if I ask.

But . . . she smirked and pulled out her
phone.
He
wouldn't do it for her. However, she did know who
he
would
do it for.

"Hey, sis." She let out a heavy, dramatic
sigh. "I need your help."

* * * *

"Holy shit, Oriana!" Silver pounced on her
sister in the lobby, hugging her, then holding her at arm's length.
"I
love
this outfit. Seriously! And you have to promise to
let me borrow those boots!"

"You don't have to suck up." Oriana pulled
her long black blazer jacket, double breasted and classy vintage,
closed and gave her a tight smile. "I already said I'd do it."

Damn it woman, do you ever look in a
mirror? You're gorgeous!
Silver wanted to tell her Oriana
exactly that, but didn't bother, because she wouldn't listen. Of
course, Silver had a new method of attacking her sister's lack of
confidence that she had no problem using.

Besides, she really
did
want to borrow
those boots! New Rock, leather stilettos with red flames. She had
to dab the corner of her lip to make sure she wasn't drooling.

"I'm not sucking up. To be honest, I'm not
used to you looking this stylish. That white shirt is really cute
over those tights, and that jacket . . . but maybe I'm giving the
wrong person credit." Her lips curved slightly. "Are you letting
Max dress you now? Or . . . oh! Dominik! I can see him picking out
your clothes for you. He's got that Daddy Dom vibe."

"Fuck off, Silver!" Oriana laughed and shoved
her towards the elevator. "The men only dress me when we go to the
club."

"I never see you at the club."

"Of course you don't. Dominik and Richter
discussed it awhile ago and agreed it was best if we went on
different nights. I figured it would be a little weird . . . ."

"They talked to
you
about it?" Silver
frowned as they got on the elevator and headed down to the level
with the locker room, gym, training room and coaching staff
offices. "Nobody mentioned anything to me."

"Dominik brought it up after you attacked
Sloan."

Silver made a face. "I gave him a friendly
little 'Welcome to the Family' tap. No big deal."

Oriana snickered. "Right. Well, I have a
feeling you won't be doing that again. What did you get,
twenty?"

"Something like that." Her cheeks heated up
as she avoided her sister's amused look. "He's fucking strict."

"You're a brat."

"There's that too."

Her sister grinned and glanced down the hall
when the elevator door opened. It was empty, but she spoke softly
anyway. "Do you get punished often?"

What was this? Oriana used to hate it when
Silver told her about her sex life. Then again, punishments didn't
always involve sex. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip.
"Sometimes . . . ."

"When was the last time?"

Silver's face was on fire. She'd rather talk
about sex—which didn't make any sense. "This morning. You?"

"Last weekend." Oriana shrugged. "Don't
forget, I've been with them a lot longer. And Dominik's the only
one with rituals and rules that took any getting used to."

"Rituals?"

"Yes. Like how I greet him at the door, or
things I do when we're eating together." Oriana shot her a quick
look, as though needing to make sure she wouldn't be judged—as if
Silver, of all people, would even
consider
judging her
sister. Finally, Oriana exhaled and smiled. "Different Doms expect
different things and it feels nice once you get it right. I didn't
at first."

"But you were trying?" Silver thought over
some of the books she'd read and vaguely remembered skimming over
something about rituals. Kneeling or standing in a certain way.
Sounded boring. "Did he punish you anyway?"

"No, he just made me repeat it a few times.
Five the first time. Then he added five times every time I got it
wrong after." Giggling the way she had when they were very young,
she leaned close and whispered. "I had to pick up my fork fifty
times before I could eat once."

"
Fifty?
" Silver stared at her sister.
"What's so complicated about picking up a fork?"

"Well." Oriana cleared her throat and dropped
her tone to a decent impersonation of Dominik's. "You do not touch
the fork until you are given permission. And that's after you are
fed the first bite. Lifting your hand to pick up the fork is a
mistake." Her full lips formed a hard line. "Try again, pet."

Silver threw her head back and laughed. "You
are awesome at that! Wow!"

Oriana bowed. "Why thank you."

"So why did you keep lifting your hand? I
mean, getting to fifty times—"

Heavy footsteps sounded right behind them.
Dominik stepped out of the men's bathroom. "She was bored of the
ritual and decided to act out." He slid his hand around the back of
Oriana's neck and pulled her towards him. "But she quickly learned
that doing those small things to please me is much more pleasant
than being a brat and trying to get a reaction."

Rather than looking scared or embarrassed,
Oriana leaned into him, content as a well fed kitten. She winked at
Silver. "I also much prefer eating
at
the table."

"Please don't share any of this with Landon."
Silver could already picture him making her sit on the floor and
eat out of his hand. Of course, sitting on the table, all tied up,
wasn't much better. "He doesn't need any more ideas from you."
Polite might help.
"Sir."

Dominik grinned and shook his head. "Call me
Dominik or Mason here, Silver. And don't worry about me giving him
ideas. I hear he was trained 'Old Guard' style. He'll have you
doing High Protocol whenever he's not on the road."

You've got to be kidding me.
"Isn't
High Protocol the really intense stuff?"

"Yes. For example, a slave should never look
her Master in the eye."

"
Slave?
"

"Oh, you hadn't discussed that yet?" Dominik
guided Oriana along with him, towards the locker room. "He must be
taking it easy on you."

Oriana twisted away from Dominik and poked
him in the ribs. "Will you stop teasing her!"

Dominik caught her wrists and gave her a lazy
half smile. "Who says I'm teasing? And what have I told you about
poking me?"

Silver swallowed as her sister's eyes
widened.

"Now?" Oriana asked in a whisper.

The big man nodded and jerked his chin
towards the bathroom. He folded his arms over his chest and arched
a brow when Oriana hesitated. "Would you like me to help you?"

"But then you won't—"

"No. I won't."

"Then I'll manage on my own,
Sir
."
Oriana stalked off.

Shuffling her feet, Silver glanced over at
Dominik. "Do I want to know?"

"Probably not." He made a dismissive motion
in the direction of the player's lounge. "Most of the guys should
be in there."

Chewing hard on the inside of her cheek, she
squared her shoulders. "Thank you."

"Oh, and, Silver?"

She glanced back at him. "Yes?"

"I agreed to do the photo shoot. Oriana got a
hold of me right after you called her. I told her it might be
better for her to speak to Sloan in person."

"Then maybe I should wait for her."

"Sloan will respect you more if you ask him
yourself," Dominik said, shrewdly. "If that doesn't work, let
Oriana try. But I wouldn't hold my breath either way."

"Well, gee, that's encouraging." She mumbled
before turning away from him and striding up to the door. She
inhaled and pushed the door open.

About twenty men lounged around, drinking
Gatorade or coffee either at the bistro style tables or on the big
leather coaches. Landon wasn't there. Scott spotted her first and
sat forward, a crooked grin on his face. The towel wrapped around
his waist looked ready to flop open. Droplets of water covered his
chest and his pecs tightened as she fought to tear her eyes away
from him. Movement to the left made her jump.

Sebastian held up his hands in a
I-am-harmless gesture. "Would you care for coffee, muñeca?"

Inching away from him, she nodded. His
accented words still drizzled within like liquid caramel, but
lacked the power he'd used before. Maybe Dean was right. Maybe he
would keep a respectful distance.

"We have practice, so let's make this quick."
Sloan, who sat on a sofa beside Max, leaned forward and propped his
elbows on his knees. "You need how many guys for the photo
shoots?"