GAME MISCONDUCT (The Dartmouth Cobras) Read online

  Oriana’s eyes went wide. Tim lets his wife use a whip on him?

  Well, why not? He obviously had some experience. She’d figured him for a Dom, but maybe he was a switch? Were any of her men switches? Would they want her to . . .

  “Jesus, Tim,” Sloan said, rubbing her arms. “Scare the hell out of her, why don’t you?”

  “About that.” The humor faded from Tim’s eyes. “You might want to watch that recording before you try to use it. When you left the bathroom, you looked pretty freaked out. And the men looked pissed. Don’t know if that’s the impression you want to give.”

  “Not really.” Oriana tried to slip away from Sloan. He slid his hands up her thighs, stopping at the edge of the jersey. She bit her lip and looked at Max. When he shrugged, she picked up her beer and took a sip. “But I’m sure we can come up with something else.”

  Grinning, Sloan bent down to lick a drop of beer from her bottom lip. “Does that mean you’re coming back?”

  Rather than answer, she set the beer on the bar and gave him a little nudge. Before he could get out of her way, she eased off the stool and let her body glide down his. He groaned when she wiggled her hips.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  He flipped up the bottom of the jersey and dug his fingers into her ass. “You keep that up and I won’t wait.”

  “You can’t do anything here.” She hiked her chin up, shoveling defiance over rampant desire. This guy was way too cocky. Time to bring him down a notch. “Save your threats, Mr. Callahan. I’m not scared of you.”

  Tim cleared his throat. “Just a suggestion, Oriana, and then I’m out of here.” He laughed when she tried to twist away from Sloan. “Taunting your Dom is a bad idea. Especially when he’s a sadist.”

  Oriana gulped when Tim walked away. She suddenly realized Max had released her hand and stepped away from her to finish his drink.

  Leaving her alone to deal with Sloan.

  “I was joking.” She pressed her hands against Sloan’s chest and gave him the most innocent look she could muster. I’ll be good. I promise. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

  His answering smile didn’t bode well. “Oh, I’ll hurt you,” he said. “But not here. And not tonight.” He picked her up and dropped her on the stool. “Finish your beer.”

  “But—” She shut her mouth when his eyes narrowed. Okay, maybe she was a little scared of him. The rush of adrenaline in her veins made her skin cold. With a shaky hand, she brought her beer to her lips.

  Sloan placed his hands on her upper thigh and framed his thumbs along the rim of her panties. She choked on a mouthful of beer as her clit throbbed.

  Max’s presence behind her made her insides clench with need. He patted her back. “Breathe, darlin’.”

  She gasped and tried to close her thighs. Solid hips worked between her knees. Hands clamped just above them.

  A little whine escaped her as she realized whose hands held her open. “Max . . .”

  Sloan’s thumbs stroked her pussy.

  “Oh!” She covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head. “You can’t—”

  “But I am.” Sloan nibbled along the side of her throat as his fingers slipped into her panties. “And you want me to. You’re so wet, babe. Be honest, you’d let me fuck you now if I wanted to.”

  Yes! Oh god, yes! She shifted her hips forward and pressed her face against his chest to stifle her moans as one thick finger penetrated her. Part of her mind objected to letting him do this, here, where anyone could see. Reason made her say the words out loud. “We’ll get caught.”

  “That’s part of the thrill.” Sloan strained to fill her with another finger even as he picked up his beer. If anyone was looking, they’d assume he was having an intimate conversation; his face betrayed nothing more. “Would you like another drink?”

  His calloused fingers, all slicked with the spill of moisture, thrust in and out slowly, gentle and erotic. Not quite enough to make her scream—unless it was for more. Her whole body quivered, chanting “Deeper, faster, harder!”, drowning out her whispers of reservation.

  Lips sucked at her neck, then a tongue trailed a hot path up to her ear. Max whispered. “He asked you a question, love. Would you like another beer?”

  “Mmm.” Her eyes rolled back as Sloan teased her clit with his thumb. The rim of the beer she held bumped her bottom lip. She drained the bitter dregs and blindly attempted to set the bottle down on the bar. A searing wave of arousal made the bottle slip from her hand. Max caught it just in time.

  “I think she’s had enough,” Max said.

  Enough? What? No! She whimpered, sure Sloan would leave her a quivering mess—unfulfilled and longing.

  “I agree.” Sloan pressed his thumb down on her clit and resumed dipping his fingers into her, again and again, fast and hard, until she was sure everyone in the bar could hear the rhythmic wet slap of his palm on her pussy. “Just give me a minute.”

  Another finger joined the others. Stretching, twisting. She fell back onto Max. Sloan flicked her clit, once, twice, then drove his fingers in deep. Her spine bowed, and her hips bucked. A violent orgasm tore through her, and only Max’s lips on hers kept her from screaming.

  Sloan dragged a few more spasms from her and casually withdrew his fingers. He covered her with her lace panties and patted her pussy, making her jerk and moan. Not enough. Need everything. Please!

  “How about we take this back to my place?” Max helped her off the stool, holding her when her legs refused to solidify. “I think she’s had her taste. Time for a full course.”

  Had my taste? This was planned?

  Reason slammed into her skull. She glared at Max, then Sloan. “I can’t believe you just—”

  “Oh, stop it.” Sloan brought his glistening fingers to his lips and sucked them, one at a time. “You wanted me to.”

  I did. But that doesn’t matter. “Not here!”

  “Liar.”

  Her shocked senses made her tense up. She wanted to spit in his face. “Fuck you.”

  “Fuck me?” Sloan clamped his hand around her wrist like a shackle and towed her out of the bar. “As you wish.”

  All the way down the street, Sloan tightened his grip every time she tried to wrench free. She cursed him in her head and out loud until her lame-ass objections sounded silly, even to her. There was no denying it. She could have asked him to stop at any time. And, if he hadn’t listened, Max would have made him. Still, he didn’t have to be such a jerk now.

  In front of the house, Sloan finally let her go.

  She rubbed her sore wrist and muttered under her breath, “Asshole.”

  “What did you just call me?” Sloan took a step toward her.

  Max blocked him. “Take it down a notch, Callahan.”

  Sloan’s stance went from barely contained violence to the calm of a predator stretched out on a rock in the sun. Harmless. Unless you dared make a sound.

  Oriana’s whole body went rigid, but, as they made their way up to the porch, she realized he wouldn’t attack her. Yet.

  She grazed her bottom lip with her teeth. After everything that had just happened, one thing still bothered her. Maybe talking would ease the tension. “Sloan, can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot.”

  A deep breath, and she blurted out her question. “You’re not really a sadist, are you?”

  Chapter Eight

  Sloan’s roaring laughter echoed out onto the street, and Oriana scowled. Tim’s warning fresh in her mind, she wondered if smacking her Dom would be as bad, or worse, than taunting him.

  “Aww, babe. Don’t be mad.” Max hugged her from behind and whispered in her ear. “You have to admit, the question’s kinda ridiculous. He’s all turned on, and he promised to hurt you.”

  Bad time to play ‘one of the boys,’ Max. She jabbed her elbow into his gut hard enough to make him grunt, then skirted out of reach. “I’m going to pretend you did not just say that.”

&nb
sp; Her heels thudded on the steps as she turned her back on him and stomped up to the house. The men spoke quietly, then one caught up with her.

  “Oriana, wait.” She could still hear the laughter in Sloan’s tone as he took her hand and spun her away from the door before she could open it. “I didn’t mean to laugh, just . . . well, considering your recent research, I didn’t think you’d be so clueless.”

  Screw bad ideas. She put her hands on his chest and shoved. “You’ve got to be the biggest jerk I’ve ever met.”

  Shadows swept away the amusement lightening his features. “I find that hard to believe considering your taste in—”

  A mutter and a cough, and Oriana turned to see the front door hanging open.

  Dominik stepped away from T.J. and Tyler and held out his hand. “Everything okay?”

  Oh, that voice. Little tremors raced over her flesh as though she’d ventured naked into a cool spring shower. His concern barely masked his displeasure. He didn’t seem to like Sloan and Max upsetting her.

  They were lucky she didn’t relish being fought over. Silver considered scuffling part of foreplay. May the best man win.

  But I’m not Silver. And, for the first time, that didn’t seem so bad.

  She put her hand in Dominik’s, and her whole being went calm and still. Somehow, his strength seemed to fill her. She smiled up at him. “Everything’s fine.”

  The men drifted away from the doorway, but not far. As Dominik led her inside, her shoulder brushed T.J.’s chest. She peeked at him, and he gave her a grim smile. He seemed . . . disappointed.

  A wave of uncertainty crashed into her. Before Dominik could bring her any farther into the house, she dug in her heels. “Are you sure everyone’s comfortable with this? Maybe I should take one of the other rooms.”

  Not necessarily alone. She squeezed Dominik’s hand, hoping he’d catch on.

  “Maybe you should make up your mind.” Sloan stopped short when Dominik put a hand on his shoulder and said something too low for her to hear. Sloan sighed and rubbed between his black eyebrows. “Hell, do whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m not up for playing games.”

  “Then you don’t get to play.” Dominik’s tone was gentle, but firm. He turned to Oriana. “What about you?”

  She pressed her lips together to hide a smile, then cocked her head. “Why? Will you play without me if I say no?”

  Dominik went still, then roared out a laugh. The tension in the room shattered like sugar glass. Even Sloan chuckled.

  God, that felt good. All the deep masculine laughter, rumbling like thunder before a storm breaks. She couldn’t remember ever making someone laugh like that before. Maybe in high school, but that seemed like so long ago.

  “No, brat, we won’t play without you.” Dominik tapped her chin with a knuckle. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

  Near the bar, beside the large TV stand, Vanek uncapped a bottle of water and watched her as he gulped the whole thing down. T.J. slouched on one of the wing chairs that angled away from the sofa, as though whatever she decided wouldn’t affect him at all. But the way his fist, resting on the arm of the chair, repeatedly tensed and relaxed told her otherwise.

  Max, Dominik, and Sloan were the hardest to read. For all Sloan’s frustration and Dominik’s amusement, both wore blank expressions. The captain was taking the Master’s lead, and both looked like they could stand there all night and wait for her to make up her mind. Max’s expression almost matched those of the other two men, except for the slight quirk of his lips.

  Her blood retreated from her fingers and sizzled all the way down to her core. The fear of making the wrong choice created an urge to run for her life. Only her life wasn’t in danger.

  She rubbed her hands together, startled when she felt a hand on her arm. Max. His touch assured her she wasn’t making this decision alone.

  “How far are you planning to take this . . . game?” she asked Dominik.

  “As far as I think you can manage,” he said.

  Sloan’s lips curled. “Which will be further than you think you can, little girl.”

  Nodding slowly, she felt her pulse steady and took a deep breath. “I guess I better say yes.” She gave Sloan her sweetest smile. “I might be clueless, but I know better than to piss off this sadist.”

  “Do you really?” Sloan stepped up to her. “And why’s that?”

  “Well, he might beat me with his hockey stick.” She traced a big C on his chest. “You find roughing sexy, Captain?”

  Max spat out a laugh. “I would say mocking a sadist isn’t brilliant either, doll.”

  Sloan shook his head, lips moving as though in silent prayer. “If you keep pushing, Oriana, I’ll teach you Submission 101 right now.”

  T.J. slammed his fist on the arm of the chair and stood.

  That didn’t look promising. She skipped across the room, putting herself in front of T.J. and just out of Sloan’s reach. With a fake little shudder, she glanced over at Sloan and gave him Bambi eyes.

  “Should I be afraid?”

  Hands settled on her shoulders. “Yes.” Dominik’s tone dropped an octave, and its deep resonance made her shudder for real. “When we decide to introduce you to that aspect of our lives, pet, you’ll have to follow our rules.”

  “When?” She swallowed so her voice wouldn’t squeak again and looked over her shoulder at Dominik. “I thought we were limiting the . . . fun to tonight.”

  “Tonight won’t be enough for me.” He rubbed the muscles running along her neck. “But it’s a start.”

  A start? The little adventure turning into something long-term hadn’t occurred to her. Max enjoyed watching—she might be able to deal with that—but what Sloan enjoyed . . .

  “Nothing serious yet.” Dominik leaned over her shoulder and kissed her cheek. “This isn’t something you jump into. Perhaps a few commands to add some spice, but I really don’t think you’ll need it.”

  “What if I decide I do?” Silly thing to butt heads about, but this all felt too fast, too slow, too confusing. “Speaking of which, how does giving me commands I won’t obey spice things up?”

  Dominik’s fingers tightened around the nape of her neck. “When I give commands, you’ll obey.”

  “Try me.”

  His eyes narrowed, and his generous lips drew into a hard line. She dropped her gaze to the pointy tips of her boots. Cool air brushed over her butt as he lifted the bottom of her jersey. She inhaled and closed her eyes, prepared for the warmth of his big hands molding into her flesh.

  He pinched both cheeks. Hard.

  “Ow!” She squirmed when he hooked an arm around her waist, and she drove her heel down toward his foot. He hauled her up and sat on the sofa with her straddling his thighs.

  “You’re not ready, little bunny—”

  She glared at him. “Don’t call me that!”

  When he grinned, she swung her hand toward his face. He shifted away just in time to avoid getting slapped. Then he latched onto both her wrists and held them against her knees.

  He didn’t look all that surprised that she’d tried to hit him, but she was shocked by her own actions. She didn’t do violence. Ever.

  “Eyes on me.”

  The soft command jolted her from her thoughts, enough power behind it to send a tingling charge along her flesh. She bit her lip and looked at him.

  “Stop pushing. Sloan doesn’t deal well with switches, and I haven’t decided whether you are one. And Max doesn’t have the experience to ease you into this. You have plenty of choices—but rushing things isn’t one of them.”

  Choices. Damn, she was tired of hearing that. Arousal buzzed in her veins with painful insistency. She felt like a junkie desperate for a fix. But how the hell could she make them understand?

  The answer came to her. She let her body go slack and leaned into Dominik, whispering, “I don’t want any more choices.”

  Shackling both her wrists with one hand, Dominik used the other to nudge her ch
in up. Creases formed around his eyes, and he studied her for a moment. “No, I guess you don’t.” He released her wrists. “Stand up.”

  She scrambled to her feet awkwardly, wishing she’d taken off her boots when she’d come back from the bar. Someone grabbed her elbow when she swayed, and she glanced over and gave Tyler a grateful smile. He smiled back, but his eyes were wide and his skin had gone white. He looked as nervous as she felt.

  “Take off the jersey,” Dominik said.

  The sleeves of the jersey fell over her hands as she fumbled with the shirt. Her fingers weren’t working right. She wanted to obey, more than she’d ever wanted anything, but . . .

  Tyler pushed her hands away and put his hands on her hips.

  His lips formed a silent “You ready?”

  When she nodded, he took hold of the shirt and eased it up. His knuckles skimmed her sides, and she heard him hiss in a breath as she lifted her arms and he pulled off the shirt.

  “You’re so . . . wow.” Tyler shook his head and blushed. “I’m sorry; I’m not used to wanting a girl more than she wants me.”

  “But I do want you.” She touched his cheek, sensing that he needed comforting more than she did. His awkwardness lessened her own. She wasn’t the only one new to this.

  He ducked his head. “Yeah, maybe, but you didn’t throw yourself at me because of who I am. It’s a nice change.”

  Poor kid. He’d been in the sport his whole life, destined for greatness from the day he’d put on a pair of skates. She’d thought he didn’t know any better when he’d let the blonde bunny go down on him, but it was more than that. He didn’t know anything else.

  “You’re a little young for me.” She grinned when his blush darkened. “But I have a feeling you’ll make me forget our age difference. You’re the kind of man I wish I’d met in university, before I came here.”

  “You probably had plenty of men chasing after you.”

  She shrugged. “Yeah. Hoping to get with my sister.”

  “Silver?” Tyler wrinkled his nose. “Sloan told me about her—”