GAME MISCONDUCT (The Dartmouth Cobras) Read online

  “Oriana—” Dominik’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like taking orders from subs.

  Girl was gonna get it.

  Suddenly, Dominik’s features lightened and he laughed. “All right. But only if you come with me.”

  Lips pursed, Oriana folded her arms over her chest. “To sleep.”

  “Deal.” Dominik took her hand and laced their fingers together. “I enjoyed taking you, Oriana, but I can’t imagine anything better than holding you all night long.”

  “Have fun!” Vanek dropped a pizza crust in the empty box and rubbed his hands on his thighs. “I’ll crash on the couch.”

  “Why don’t you head up to bed?” Dominik combed his fingers through Oriana’s wet hair and brought her fingers to his lips. “You need your rest, rookie.”

  “‘Cause I’m not stupid. If she wakes up during the night all antsy, I wanna be nearby. Bad enough I couldn’t join the fun in the bathroom. Too crowded.”

  “Well, I’m gonna get some sleep while you guys figure this out.” T.J. went to Oriana and kissed her brow. “Had fun and all, but I’m done for the night.”

  “Goodnight, T.J.” Oriana groaned as Dominik worked one hand between the folds of her towel. “Stop that! We’re going to sleep, remember?”

  “Mmm.” Dominik tugged at the towel until it opened and fell to her feet. “You still won’t need this.”

  “There gonna be room in that bed for one more?” Max took a hesitant step toward Oriana, then smiled when she reached out to him. “I wanna ‘hold’ you, too.”

  The trio headed for the bedroom, and Sloan frowned when Oriana gasped. So much for sleeping. Maybe he and Vanek should join them.

  The door was shut firmly behind them. The lock clicked.

  “Guess they won’t be needing us tonight.” Vanek propped his feet up on the table and nudged the pizza box toward Sloan. “Hungry?”

  “Go fuck yourself, Vanek.” Scowling at Vanek’s laugh, Sloan stormed out of the room. Closed inside his own, he paced, hands raked into his hair. How had he managed to miss out on everything? Oriana wanted him as much—if not more—than the others. So what had gone wrong?

  Besides you running your mouth? Pretty much everything.

  After stripping off his shirt and jeans, Sloan went to his bed and lay on top of the forest green comforter, arms folded under his head. Calm. Control. There’s no fucking rush. This isn’t over for you. Not by a long shot.

  Tomorrow, he’d take his place with her. Maybe start her on some training. Then, after the game, they’d play.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Limbs wrapped around her, heavy and warm. The sun streaked through the part in the curtains, blazing through her closed lids and causing her head to throb in time with the dull ache between her thighs.

  A wonderful feeling, until she woke enough to face what she’d done.

  Images flashed behind eyelids she pressed shut. Five men, having their way with her. Vanek and Dominik. T.J. and Sloan. Then Max and Dominik again.

  She didn’t regret it, but she was afraid to see how the men would treat her. Like a plaything to be used for their amusement? Or would they be disgusted by how wanton she’d been?

  Only one way to find out.

  Untangling herself from Max and Dominik, she crawled off the bed and looked around. She certainly couldn’t face them naked.

  A suitcase caught her eye. Inside, she found a pair of jogging pants and a T-shirt. After combing her hair with her fingers, she checked her appearance in the mirror above the dresser.

  Her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed, but, other than that, she didn’t look too bad. Her eyes held a sparkle that made them almost pretty.

  Hell, I enjoyed myself last night. Whatever happens now won’t take that away from me.

  Squaring her shoulders, she walked up to the door and unlocked it. Then she eased it open.

  “Good morning, gorgeous.” Tyler tossed the remote on the coffee table and stood. “Damn, you’re a sight in the morning.”

  So far, so good. She went to the sofa when he waved her over and accepted his kiss.

  “I made you some breakfast.” A tray slammed on the table in the little kitchenette. Sloan set a knife and fork by a plate and held out his hand. “Come eat.”

  Fruit salad and homemade waffles. Her mouth watered as she took a seat, and she whispered thanks as he poured her a glass of orange juice. She cut herself a piece of waffle, eyes on Sloan as he took the seat across from her.

  “We’ve got a game tonight,” he said, picking up the newspaper from the tray and flicking it open.

  “I know.” She put the piece of waffle in her mouth, watching him cruise the headline. “I was thinking of going—”

  “You’re coming.” Sloan laid the paper on the table and smiled at her. “The Cobras are gonna crush the Blue Jackets. You wouldn’t want to miss that, would you?”

  “No.” The syrup felt thick on her tongue. Too sweet. She took a gulp of orange juice. It didn’t help. “Should I put money on it?”

  Sloan’s hand settled on her knee. Her fork fell out of her hand and clinked on her plate. At little early for . . . She swallowed and peered up at him. At least he didn’t look like he thought any less of her.

  “You’re the owner’s daughter. Might be frowned on.” His hand stroked up her leg, sending a spike of awareness between her thighs. Then he stood and held up a finger. “Dominik! Perron! Get up, you lazy bastards!”

  Grumbling came from the bedroom. Sloan rounded the table and took her hand to pull her to her feet.

  When Sloan sat in her chair, she cocked her head, confused.

  “Sit down and finish your breakfast.”

  Oh, hell, no.

  “But—” She glanced across the room to watch Max and Dominik emerge, both deliciously rumpled and wearing nothing but boxers.

  Sloan lifted her up and sat her on his knee. “Wasn’t I clear enough?” He wrapped his hands around her waist and slid his fingers under the waistband of her jogging pants. “Eat up. We’ve got a big day planned.”

  Max took Sloan’s abandoned seat. “So we get to chill before the game?”

  Since Max didn’t appear bothered by the fact that she was in Sloan’s lap, she peeked at Dominik and relaxed. He simply smiled at her before taking her glass and gulping down half her orange juice.

  “The last time I let you laze around before a game, you ended up minus six. We’re heading to the gym for a light workout, then to the rink to warm up.” Sloan’s fingers slid inside her pants, brushing the top of her mound. “Food, Oriana.”

  She tried to get up and whimpered when he pulled her back. The hard muscles of his thigh ground against her, and she could feel the crotch of the jogging pants dampen with her lust. The tip of his finger grazed her clit.

  Picking up her fork, she speared a big piece of waffle and crammed it in her mouth.

  “There you go,” he whispered, withdrawing his hand to set it on the table. “How’s your knee, Vanek?”

  Tyler snapped his gaping mouth shut and shook his head. “What?” His cheeks flushed. He rose from the sofa and brought first one knee, then the other, to his chest. “Little sore, but nothing I can’t handle.”

  While Sloan questioned each of the men, Oriana cleaned her plate of the tasteless food. Not that the waffles weren’t good, but her focus had turned from her taste buds to something . . . lower.

  Sounded like the boys’ schedules were full. They wouldn’t have time for her, but maybe if she could have a few minutes alone?

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Sloan put his hand on her hip when she slipped off his lap.

  “Shower.” She dodged his hand and headed to the bathroom.

  “You had a bath last night.”

  “Well—” She gave Dominik a helpless look when he blocked her path. They just weren’t playing fair this morning.

  Dominik cupped her cheek. “Go ahead, babe. Wash all me and Max’s sweat off. I’ll bring you by your place later to
pick up a change of clothes. But I want you to wear my jersey to the game.” He grinned when she nodded and let her pass.

  “Oh, and Oriana,” Sloan said, lifting his arms over his head to stretch.

  She sighed and glanced over her shoulder, one foot in the bathroom. “What?”

  “Don’t get yourself off.”

  Snorting, she entered the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. As if.

  But under the hot spray of the shower, she found herself obeying despite her best efforts to do otherwise. Her body refused to respond to her touch—she let out an aggravated scream between her teeth, then another when she heard a chuckle from right outside the door.

  Bastard! Grinding her teeth, she reached down and turned the cold water on full.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Portland Estates Boulevard was sprinkled with nice family-sized homes and bungalows. And trees, so many Dominik double-checked the GPS on the dashboard of the rental to make sure he hadn’t left the city. When Oriana referred to her place as an apartment, he’d expected a blocky complex in the shopping district. But this was a typical, suburban neighborhood. A good place to raise kids.

  Oriana lived here with Paul. The very thought made him feel like he’d swallowed lumpy, sour milk. If he had his way, either Paul or Oriana would vacate the apartment very soon. He’d force the issue if he had to.

  Right, she’ll love that. Oriana might be sexually submissive, but she gave no impression of needing someone to run her life for her. Which didn’t mean he couldn’t broach the subject. But as a friend, not a Dom.

  Then again, they hadn’t been friends long enough for him to offer that kind of advice. Even calling them “friends” seemed preemptive. Friends talked, and not once in their time alone had Oriana showed any desire to chat. Despite what had passed between them, he felt like one of the chauffeurs on her daddy’s payroll.

  “Where to, ma’am?”

  The sound of Oriana unsticking her bare thighs from the leather seat disturbed the silence. From the corner of his eye, he observed the way she rubbed her knees and pursed her lips. Her eyes flung fiery daggers at him as though blaming him for her discomfort.

  “I’ll have to do something to earn those dirty looks, bunny.” He chuckled when she gave him another. “If you recall, Sloan’s the one who ordered you not to pleasure yourself in the shower.”

  Her lips moved like those of a goldfish suddenly plucked from a safe little glass bowl. Fingers denting the flesh of her thighs, she jutted her chin up. “You’re assuming I did what he said.”

  “Either that, or your panties are on fire.” He chuckled when she let out a kitten-like growl. “You’re a lusty woman, Oriana. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “Uck, as if I can’t go a few hours without sex. Just because I—” Her cheeks turned hot pink. “I’m not a damn nympho.”

  “Never said you were.” He pulled up in front of a building that looked more like a large townhouse than an apartment and confirmed the address. Throwing the rented Lincoln in park, he opened the door, but paused when she didn’t move. “What is it? Are you worried that Paul’s here? Didn’t the concierge say he left yesterday with a few bags?”

  Fiddling with the hem of the jersey he’d loaned her, she nodded slowly. “Yes, it’s not that.”

  “Then . . . ?” He scanned her face, her posture, for any kind of clue. His well-honed patience waned when he came up with nothing. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  With an aggravated huff, she sat up straight and put her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you let me change your bandages? I’m good for more than gyrating my hips and giving head you know.” She reached out and gently traced the crooked medical tape on his arm. “Tyler did a lousy job.”

  Ah, I see. His insides warmed, and he smiled. As a Dom, he spent more time than not taking care of others. As far as he was concerned, it was his duty. But someone wanting to take care of him was a nice change.

  She’s training to be a doctor. The need to heal is instinctive. You’re just another patient.

  But then he considered why he hadn’t let her dress his wounds. T.J.’s observations about her behavior when he’d gotten hurt rang true. Maybe her feelings for him made this something more.

  He touched her cheek and waited until her eyes met his. “Baby, I’d love nothing more than to let you nurse me, your touch—” Don’t go there. You’ll just make this harder for her. She’s Max’s girl. He forced himself to keep talking before the painful acknowledgement could show on his face. “Honestly, I didn’t want to look like less of a man in front of you. With Tyler, I can act all tough, but seeing the concern in you beautiful eyes—”

  “You could never look like less of a man to me, Dominik.” She touched his bottom lip. “Why would you even think that? Everyone knows how strong you are.”

  “Everyone?” Her body heat flowed over him like the gentle rays of the sun on a summer morning. He could stay right there, just basking in her, forever. “Including you?”

  “Especially me.” She sighed when he moved in for a kiss and flattened her hand against his chest. “But you’re still human, and, sometimes, you’ve got to drop the macho act.”

  “Done.” He laughed as she wrinkled her little nose. “Kiss me, and I’ll let you patch me up.”

  “Let me?” Her dainty brows disappeared under the sweep of her bangs. She rose up on her knees and shoved him back into his seat. “You’re assuming I’ll give you a choice? I’ll have you know I’ve been scheming to get you inside, knock you down, and strap you up. Maybe add a gag so you wouldn’t snarl while I tended to your boo-boo.”

  “You could try.” He drew her into his lap, fit her snugly against him, and brushed his lips over hers. “But I can’t see you trying that hard. You’re the one who wears the straps in this relationship.”

  Biting the tip of her tongue, she blinked at him. “Relationship? Dominik, I—”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve no intention of pulling out a coll—ring.” His words sounded smooth despite the tightness of his throat. And the way her whole body loosened up, she didn’t suspect a thing. “Relationship just sounds better than arrangement.”

  She winced and shifted back a little. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

  Her shapely ass molded over his thighs. The way she straddled him gave him the urge to unzip his pants, rip away the cotton barrier of her jogging pants, and bury himself inside her. If she considered this nothing more than an arrangement, why not indulge himself while he had the chance?

  He set his palms on her sides and framed her ribs with his fingers and thumbs. Because she might change her mind.

  “Can I ask you something, Dominik?”

  “Mmmhmm?” He kept his eyes on his thumbs as he counted up her ribs. Her pulse, her breath, sped up under his hands. Her nipples jutted out, but not all the way; he’d seen them bigger, harder, and nice and red from being sucked on. His mouth watered as he pictured sucking them to full size through her shirt.

  “You don’t feel used, do you?”

  His gaze traveled up from her breasts to her face. His lips turned down when he saw the way her eyes seemed to beg for understanding. “Excuse me?”

  She brought her shaky fingers up to her lips. “Well, you know . . . what we did . . . it’s only because Max needs—”

  Acidic rage coursed through him as though a needle full had been injected into his veins. The way she’d touched him, held him, the way she’d reacted when he’d gotten hurt—she was going to pretend all that was for Max?

  Of all the unwritten rules Oriana could have broken, she had to choose that one.

  He managed not to shout, but his tone was gruff. “Get off me.”

  “What?” She scrambled off his lap and out of the car. “I don’t understand—are you mad?” When he didn’t answer, she stomped her foot on the sidewalk. “Say something!”

  Rubbing his hand over his face, he reminded himself that most people thought nothing of lying to one another. Friends, family,
lover—the truth was never a given. For all he knew, she was lying to herself as well. But he had to make her understand.

  “Yes. I’m mad.” He unfolded his large frame from the car, purposely moving toward her before she could clear the door. Then he put his hand on her shoulder, taking away any illusions she might have about slipping away. “We can talk about anything . . . everything. You can tell me as much or as little as you want, so long as it’s the truth.”

  “When did I lie?” Her gaze flicked from his arm to his face. “If Max wasn’t a voyeur, I wouldn’t have gone through with it.”

  This time, he wished she was lying. But she’d looked him straight in the eye while telling him she wouldn’t have slept with him without Max’s stamp of approval. Not that she hadn’t wanted to, but her own desires wouldn’t have been enough.

  “I appreciate your honesty.” He held his arm out toward her front door. “Go get your stuff. I’ll wait here.”

  “You’re upset.”

  He shook his head, careful to give no outward sign of his own lie. “I like knowing where I stand.”

  * * * *

  The picture window at the end of the hall looked like the perfect postcard image enlarged. Once the home of a wealthy shipyard owner, the house had been converted into several large loft-style apartments by her father only months before she’d returned to Dartmouth. Oriana had always thought that he’d hoped to lure both her and Silver back with the lavish accommodations, knowing without being told that neither would ever move back in with him. He’d had to settle for her alone. Silver wouldn’t give up her glamorous lifestyle for anything he had to offer.

  And why should she? She didn’t need anything from him. Unlike Oriana, Silver had made it on her own.

  I will, too. Oriana fished her keys from her pocket, then unlocked her door. The scent of stale Chinese food came out with the cold draft from the air conditioner. She stepped in and closed the door behind her.

  The natural light spilling in from the tall windows lining the white walls seemed to emphasize the mess Paul had left for her. His dirty clothes were strewn across the floor as though tossed there from their open bedroom on the second floor. The modern glass table at the far end of the open room was covered with open containers of take out, a bottle of wine, and two long-stemmed glasses. Coral lipstick marred the crystal rim of one glass.