GAME MISCONDUCT (The Dartmouth Cobras) (11 page)

“Yeah. Why, would you prefer a ‘taste’?” His voice turned husky, and she shifted closer.
Good, very good.
He knew this tone turned her on—not as much as when Mason used it, but . . .

The image of her with Mason played out in his mind and got him as hard as he’d been then. He moved his hips away from hers and cleared his throat.

“Reckon I should tell you I plan to steal you away very soon.”

“You already did.”

“Yes, to a place you’ve already been.” He held her still when she tried to wiggle closer. “But you’ve never seen the view from the St. Joseph’s oratory or walked through the sanctuary garden. You haven’t savored some of the best smoked meat in the world or heard the tam-tams near the Cartier monument.”

This time, he let her go so she could turn to face him. “Montréal?”

He brushed her hair away from her eyes so he could enjoy the glow of excitement, sparkling like golden liquor in a crystal glass. “You haven’t been to Montréal in about eight months, right?”

She shook her head. “I don’t feel like I was ever really there. Much as I loved the atmosphere and culture, I didn’t experience half the stuff I would with you.”

He clenched and unclenched his jaw a few times to keep from grinning like an ass, but another tinkle of laughter told him she wasn’t fooled. “So we should go?”

Her shoulders lifted in an offhand shrug. “I’ll think about it.”

Lips pressed together, he tried for an uncompromising expression and failed miserably. Then he chuckled and backed her into the railing. “Brat. How about we leave the first week of May?”

“But—”

“You’re done with school for the semester.”

“Yes, but—”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Arg!” She stomped her foot and grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “Will you let me speak?”

The shade of red that rose high on her cheeks as she got more and more flustered was absolutely adorable. He should tell her off for interrupting and being grabby with him, but he was having too much fun. Mason could teach her to be a proper sub if that’s what she wanted. When they were alone, like this, he didn’t see any reason to get all serious.

“Go ahead,” he said.

“What if you make the playoffs?” Her hands smoothed out his shirt, lingering near the spots on his chest that made him twitch. She lightly played her fingertips over his hard nipples while her tongue slid across her lips. Her thoughts seemed to have strayed. “Or even the . . . um . . . the finals?”

“We won’t.” He bent down to nibble up the length of her throat. Her pulse fluttered against his lips fast as dragonfly wings. “Which means we can spend a few weeks in Montréal before we head to the Alamo.” He grazed the shallow behind her ear with his teeth.

“Oh—
Mmm
.” The bright red shade of her cheeks had faded to a light blush of pleasure. Then she went still and the color faded. “The Alamo? In Texas? You want me to go to Texas with you?”

Well, hell.
This wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. “Yeah, I do. You used to talk about going all the time.”

“I’d love to, but—” Her brow furrowed. “Don’t you stay with your dad while you’re there?”

“So?”

“So, you’ve told me so many wonderful things about him, like how
protective
he is of his kids.” Misery painted shadows around her eyes. She hugged herself and made a halfhearted attempt to twist away from him. “He’ll hate me for how I treated you.”

“How you . . .” He groaned and pulled her in for a hug. “Silly, he won’t hate you. Even if he knew what happened—which he doesn’t—he’d understand. He’s made his share of mistakes. Namely stayin’ with my mother for years after their relationship fell apart.”

“After she
cheated
on him.” She mumbled between the hands she had covering her face. “What if he finds out—”

“Stop worrying.” He curved his hand under her jaw, tipping her head up. “And kiss me.”

The way her lips parted for him, the way she groaned when he moved his hands under the jersey to hook them around her waist, was . . . very nice. But his body lagged way behind where the rest of him wanted to go. Possessing her mouth with the deep thrusts of his tongue, he let his mind slip to when he’d last been hard. Two recent memories played over in his head. Oriana with Mason. Oriana with Sloan.

Blood rushed to his groin. He looked down at the woman in his arms, a woman he’d willingly have waited a lifetime for, and imagined sharing her with one of his closest friends. Or both. Or
several
.

He groaned as Oriana’s hand glided over his stomach, then down to cover his stiff erection. Without his jeans to muffle the sensation, he would have come right then.
Rein it in a little, Perron.

Ice, helmets, smelly gloves, ugly guys with no teeth—there, he’d regained control of his body. He traced a finger along Oriana’s hip bone, dipped under the elastic of her panties, touched her silken folds.

Which weren’t as moist as he’d expected.

“You not into this, babe?” He kept his tone neutral so she wouldn’t think he was upset. Not that she’d been explicit, but he’d known she and Paul had problems with sex. ‘Course, he’d blamed Paul—and still did—but maybe there was more to it.

“I’m into it. I just—” Her hips wiggled, and she tried to clamp her legs shut as he lightly tapped his fingertip on her clit. “I keep wondering what you’re thinking about. Just me? Or me with the men?”

A half-truth, but he’d go along with it. “Honestly?”

She nodded.

“I was thinking about you and Mason, about how beautifully submissive you were.” At that, her breath hitched, and she grew nice and slick around his fingertips. He dipped two fingers inside her and smiled as her eyes glazed with pleasure. “And then with Callahan—” Her hot, tight pussy squeezed his fingers. “You seemed a little scared, but there was a dark passion in your eyes.”

Her lips formed silent words before she whispered, “Max . . .”

In this perfect setting, the two of them under the moonlight, with only sleepy plants watching, they could give each other some satisfaction. But how shallow would it be? He withdrew his fingers and caught her elbow with a hand when she swayed.

“No!” She held on to him, her eyes wide. “I want you!”

“Do you now?” He cupped her breasts and grazed his thumbs in slow circles around her nipples. His gentle ministrations had her bucking her hips and moaning out loud. “Tell me who you’re thinking of, love. Just me, or more?”

* * * *

“More!” Oriana gasped as he rolled the jersey up to her throat and bent down to kiss the swell of her breasts.“Oh!”

Without a moment’s pause, he bared her breasts and began suckling the taut flesh of one, then the other. The sensation coiled around her clit, and her insides clamped down on nothingness, aching to be filled.

“Please.” She pressed against him, her hips seeking his with aimless forward thrusts. “Max, please!”

“This will be enough, darlin’.” His tongue traced the edges of her areola, coming closer and closer to her nipple. He let the moisture left behind cool while he brought his lips to hers and stole her breath with a fierce kiss. His palms covered her breasts, molding them gently, leaving her nipples untouched. “I never would have asked you to be with the men. I would have done everything in my power to be the man you needed, but you want them, don’t you?”

“Mmm.” She threw her head back as he lightly brushed his fingertips over her nipples, and every nerve in the tiny nubs greedily absorbed the sensation. Being neglected had made them hypersensitive. She almost wanted to pull away; it was almost too much, but his words had her ready to come apart. Visions of hot hands and mouths all over her made her knees lock and her core clench convulsively.

“Tell me. Tell me exactly what you want us to do to you.” He caught her nipples between his fingers and thumbs, rolling them, tugging lightly before lowering his mouth to flick each with his tongue. “Don’t come until you answer me, Oriana.”

“Ah!” Her eyes teared as she fought the urge to surrender to the building climax. “Everything! Anything! Just . . . just . . .”

His tongue fluttered over the tip of her nipple, faster and faster. He sucked the nipple, playing it carefully between his teeth, then resumed the fluttering. “Very good. You may come now, sugar.”

At another flick, pleasure burst from her breasts and flared out from her cunt. She cried out as the sensations came together and ignited from everywhere at once. Her knees gave out, and Max held her tight as she rode the violent orgasm until she was deliciously spent.

Supporting her with an arm around her waist, Max straightened her bra, then her jersey. Her skin tingled as the material touched her, and she whimpered, suddenly, desperately needy. She wanted to strip and beg him to take her again and again.

“Don’t give me that look.” He palmed her cheek and kissed her. “It’s getting cold. We’ll head back to my place and get you warmed up. See where your head’s at.”

“Where my head’s at?” She blinked at him as he draped his jacket over her shoulder. “But you said—”

“A bit of mental stimulation, Oriana.” He glanced down at her bare feet and shook his head, cursing under his breath. “Mason would kick my ass if he knew I had you out here like this.”

“But—”

He shook his head again and she groaned. No more talking. He obviously wanted her to make her decisions with a clear head.

But exactly what would clearheaded Oriana decide?

To tell the truth, she had no idea.

O
riana decided she’d lost her mind. The men in her life had pushed her over the edge. Not just Paul and her father, no; Max could take some of the blame, too. Or most of the blame. Only he could make coming to his house, alone, to . . . umm
. . .
with
five
men sound . . .

Sound crazy.
Slutty
. A little hot considering she had her pick of some damn fine studs—
Ugh.
No. She’d regained her senses on the drive over. Once they reached the house, she’d made a mad dash for the first-floor bathroom—almost settling on a closet when she’d opened the wrong door.

She’d said she needed to go. She’d really just needed to hide.

Phone tucked between her shoulder and her ear, she leaned on the beige marble counter and prayed her sister would answer. Silver would know how to handle a situation like this.

“Hello?” Silver said groggily.

Oriana felt bad—for about a second. Then she recalled all the times she’d bailed her sister out of worse messes.
You owe me, sis
. “I need your help.”

The reaction she got after explaining her situation was odd.

“Blackmail? Oh, you naughty girl!” Silver sounded so proud. “And you made sure the security cameras caught you leaving the bathroom with the boys in nothing but a jersey?”

“Yeah. Do you think it will work?”

“It might.
If
you’ve got the nerve to tell Daddy you’ll have the recording sent to the media if he doesn’t back off.”

Exactly what she’d hoped.

“The only problem is Daddy might call your bluff. Or the men might tell the truth, and you don’t want it to be their word against yours. You’ll look stupid.”

“Oh.”
Well, that sucks
. “So what do you suggest?”

Silver groaned loudly into the phone. In response to what she’d said? Or was something else was going on in her sister’s room? “Daddy doesn’t give me my own way because of idle threats. He knows I’ll follow through; he’s had to cover up me doing so a few times. He’s all about image.”

“Silver there are five men outside this door. You can’t seriously think I could—”

“Why the hell not?” Her sister giggled, then gasped. Definitely multitasking. “Think about it. You stay with Paul and let him walk all over you, or have a fuckfest and ditch him all at once. You might have to follow through with your threats. Shouldn’t you enjoy yourself if everyone’s gonna think you’re a hussy anyway?”

“I guess . . .”

Wimp. You seriously need your little sister to make this okay for you?

Silver sighed. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to, but I think every girl should have at least one gang bang.”

A gang bang? No, nothing with Max would be as crude as that. But where would things go from here?

One step at a time.

This was a pretty big step.

A loud moan in the phone made Oriana blush. The sound of a man’s murmur, followed by another’s laugh, almost made her drop it. Her mind drew up an image of herself in bed between Max and Dominik. Or Sloan. She tried to hold the phone steady as her hand shook. Static filled her ear.

A deep voice replaced her sister’s. “Silver’s busy now. Can she call you back?”

The line went dead before she could answer.

Tapping at the door made her heart skip a beat.

“You all right in there, Oriana?” Max called.

“Couldn’t be better.” She gathered her wits, straightened the borrowed jersey, then threw the door open.

Max stood off to one side, arms crossed, and a smile on his lips that didn’t reach his eyes. At her other side, Sloan hooked his hand to the doorframe over her head.

He scratched his chin and looked her over. “You know, if you’re uncomfortable
being
with all of us, you and Max can use my room. I don’t share.”

Uck, how much had he heard? She folded her arms over her head and racked her brain for a way to put him in his place. Maybe she should tell him what she’d decided.

Which is what exactly?

Dominik made a gruff sound of disgust and pushed off the black cube coffee table where he’d been munching on what looked like frozen fruit. “Don’t be a dick. She never said she wanted to be with any of us.”

“Right.” Sloan arched a brow at the other man, then shrugged. “Just want to make sure she understands she’s got options.”

How generous.
She opened her mouth.

“Smooth, Sloan.” Max took Oriana’s arm and led her a bit away from the others. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just sore ‘bout being shipped to the minors.”