BREAKAWAY (The Dartmouth Cobras) (47 page)

"Jami Richter, not another word. Silver is always on me about letting you live your life. And frankly, I don't want to know what you'll be doing tonight. But do something that will make you happy."

"But Silver—"

"Is resting. And Oriana's not letting anyone but Landon and I in that room, and only for minutes at a time. I'll call you if there's anything."

"All right." She sighed. "I'll find something to keep me busy."

"May I suggest bowling?"

Jami laughed and rolled her eyes. "
Dad
."

"Mini-putt?"

"Goodbye, dad."

"Goodbye, sweetheart. I love you."

"I love you too." Jami hung up, biting her lip as she nuzzled against the side of Sebastian's throat. Pretty messed up that it had taken something like this to get her and her dad talking again. At least she knew her dad wouldn't tell her to carry on with her night if Silver wasn't okay. Still, part of her felt guilty for even considering it, no matter what she'd said.

"Your father does not want you to go to the hospital." Sebastian's lips whispered against her ear as he spoke. Tiny goose bumps prickled all over her arms under the jersey.

She nodded. Then muttered. "He wants me to do something tonight, but—"

"But your conscience is making it difficult."

"Yes."

"Perhaps your overactive mind needs a rest." Sebastian stood her up, caging her between his thighs to study her face. "Once you return home, I'd like you to shower, then curl up in bed with a book. Dress again in what you are wearing under my jersey. I will join you shortly."

Spending the night with Sebastian would definitely distract her. But she couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. She'd been damn curious about the party, eager to see what Sebastian had planned for her with Scott and Chicklet and . . .

You're such a . . .
puta
.
Jami squeezed her thighs together as heat pooled up from her core. The word didn't have the negativity often attached to 'slut'—not for her anyway. She could almost hear Sebastian, saying it in the heat of the moment. See him hovering over her as he forced her to do deliciously naughty things with another man. Or woman.

But not tonight. She had to fight not to sigh. "So I guess we'll have to reschedule the party for some other time . . . ?"

"No, mi cielo, I did not say that." Sebastian's dark eyes took on an evil glint. "But certain things will have to be . . . improvised."

The team had dispersed, some heading for the showers, others leaving in groups, making their own plans. No one was paying any attention to them, but she whispered because it felt weird talking about . . . 'certain things' here. "Improvised like our game of make-believe?"

"Yes, Jami. Exactly like that." He stood, brushed a kiss over the scared-rabbit fast pulse at her throat, and chuckled. "You inspire me to be
very
creative."

* * * *

Luke hung around the hospital for a bit, just in case Bower needed him, not leaving until Richter came out to tell him the man had fallen asleep in a chair-turned bed at Silver's side. He got Richter to promise to call if anything came up, then wandered out of the hospital, walking aimlessly in the general direction of the forum, where he'd left his car.

A warm breeze ruffled his hair, and his stomach rumbled as he caught the scent of steak on a barbeque. The food had been pretty good at the small restaurant he'd gone to with Demyan and the Delgado sisters before the game, but he'd lost his appetite after spending about five minutes getting to know his date.

Amy was an A-class bitch.

The worse thing was, he'd gone out with her just to piss off Jami. Instead, he'd hurt her. And that bothered him more than knowing what she and Seb had done to lure him in.

His runners kicked up dirt as he headed off the road and towards a grassy area near the piers. Angry grey clouds rolled over the horizon, smothering the moonlight. A fresh hint of coming rain dampened the air and the sweat still coating his skin made him uncomfortably sticky. He probably smelled rank.

I should go take a shower if I'm
gonna
. . .

Gonna
what?

Hell, why bother lying to himself? He wanted to talk to Seb. He wanted Seb to tell him he'd been different from all the other guys he’d been with. He needed to believe he hadn't been played. Again.

But it was easier to stay pissed off. Safer even. He already found himself
kinda
jealous of Bower. He could picture him, in that wheelchair, holding Silver's hand, Richter rubbing his shoulder.

Only, Richter and Bower weren't . . . involved.

Not as far as he knew anyway.

Not that it made a difference.

Pressing his eyes shut as he leaned over the metal railing just off the walkway, Luke recalled the whole mess with Callahan and Perron. The media was all over them over a fucking hug. Worse rumors were going around about Luke and Seb. Nelson's comments proved it.

Not that he gave a shit what Nelson thought.

Or what anyone thought.

Bullshit.

All right, so he wasn't ready to come out or whatever, but he couldn't keep going like this. On the ice, it had been damn easy to pretend like he and Seb could be nothing more than teammates. But that wasn't
gonna
happen. He couldn't go a day without thinking about the man. He couldn't stop thinking about him now.

So fix it.

No. It wasn't up to him to fix it. He'd give Seb a chance though. Hear what he had to say.

The only problem was Jami. They had to make up. The relationship would be the three of them, or nothing. And he didn't want it any other way.

But he had an idea. Jami was a chick after all. If he got her something nice, she'd hear what
he
had to say.

Seb got her a bird. How you
gonna
beat that, Carter?

Luke shook his head and pulled out his phone.

"Hey, mom. Can you help me out? I
kinda
got myself in a jam. No, I'm fine. Just . . . remember that girl? Well, I'm
gonna
lose her if I don't do something. I don't think flowers will cut it. And . . . and there's something else I need to tell you." He took a deep breath. His mother didn't say a word. "Are you sitting down?"

* * * *

Jami dressed quickly and wrapped her hair in a towel, glancing towards the door every now and then, hoping Sebastian would walk in. They'd exchanged keys before his last road trip, but he hadn't used his yet.

Peanut twittered, fluffing up his feathers in that irritated way he had. Poor thing. Over the last few days, he'd spent more time with Akira than her. And he'd gotten pretty attached to his owner, just like Sebastian said he would. She smiled as she went to open the cage and let him out. He flew over her hand, landed on her shoulder. After nipping her earlobe hard enough to make her yelp, he buried his face into her hair and cooed.

"I deserved that." Jami stroked his back with a finger. "I swear, I'm
gonna
be around more. It's just been a hectic week." She stepped up to the sofa, careful not to disturb him. "I . . . I lost someone. Someone I cared about a lot."

A little tug at her hair was Peanut's only reply.

"He's such a jerk though! I mean, fine, I get what Sebastian's cousin said sounded bad, but he should have trusted us more. I trust—trusted him." She rolled her eyes at the sting of tears. "Ugh, I swear, I'm about to start my period. I'm getting way too worked up about this."

Another tug. Peanut chirped, then bumped his head against her cheek.

"Sebastian's right. My brain's in overdrive. You know I'm supposed to be reading? But you're such a good listener. We should chat more often."

She placed Peanut on the sofa and went to fix him up some fresh fruit. For the next hour, they worked on a few tricks, but Peanut seemed more interested in singing to her sweetly to earn treats than playing dead.

After placing him back on his perch and covering his cage so he could sleep, Jami went to her room and stretched out over her rumpled bed to read the book Akira had lent her a few days ago. Only a few pages in, her cheeks got so hot it felt like she'd stuck her head in an oven. The
Doms
in the exclusive club reminded her of Sebastian. She imagined him cuffing her to the X shaped cross, naked and exposed to a roomful of people, pressing against her as he told her all the naughty things he would do to her.

The lock to the front door clicked. Jami held her breath and went perfectly still. Two sets of footsteps sounded in the hall, coming towards her room. Anxiety and excitement swirled together, rushing through her veins. Her hands shook as she held the book and tried to pretend that she didn't hear them. Part of her wanted to look, to see who had come with Sebastian.

Luke?

No. Sebastian wouldn't bring that asshole. He knew she didn't want anything to do with him.

But for a split second, as the end of the bed bowed and someone not big enough to be Sebastian crawled over her, she felt a tiny spark of hope.

A hot, raspy breath, close to her ear. "Don't. Move."

Scott.
She moved to turn her head, but a large hand curved under her chin. Sebastian took a knee by the bed, his eyes hard as he leaned towards her. "You do not listen well. Bind her wrists, Scott. I have a feeling she will not cooperate."

"Which means we'll have to hurt her." Scott's tone was rough, but the hint of anticipation in it told her he liked the idea. He pulled her hands behind her back. His grip slipped as she wrenched at her wrists. "She's not going to make this easy."

"I would be disappointed if she did." Sebastian raked his fingers into her hair and jerked her head back. His lips brushed over hers. His hand slid from her hair, down her throat. He bit her bottom lip when she moved in for a kiss. "
Coño
sucio
. You are not afraid, are you? You would let two strange men fuck you with only a token resistance."

She shivered, shaking her head, mouthing 'No' even as her body screamed 'Yes!'. Her panties were already damp, but she wanted the game to play out. She wanted to ride the edge of fear, like bungee jumping off a cliff, free falling, forgetting about the cord until it snapped her to safety.

"If you don't let me go, I'll scream." She whispered the words against Sebastian's lips, then tossed her head back. She bumped Scott's chin a little too hard and winced at his grunt. "Shit. Sorry."

Scott wrapped her wrist with some kind of tape that didn't seem the least bit sticky. Then he rolled her over and straddled her hips. His leather pants were cool on the bare flesh along her sides where her shirt had ridden up. She stared up at him, her gaze sliding down from his mussed up, light blond hair, to his chest. A snug white t-shirt outlined his muscles, not bulky like Sebastian or Luke—
damn it, get him out of your head!—
but nicely chiseled. He was still much bigger than her. And strong enough to hold her down without too much effort.

But he used none of that strength on her. He was a little too gentle. Gentle enough that she felt bad being rough with
him.

"How sorry?" Scott ran his tongue over a small cut on his bottom lip. "Sorry enough to stop fighting?"

She bit back a smirk.
You asked for it, buddy.
Batting her eyelashes, she nodded. "If you don't hurt me, I'll do anything you want."

Rubbing his hand over his lips, Scott looked over at Sebastian like an actor who'd forgotten his script.

"You offer what we can take." Sebastian stood, his leathers rasping against her comforter as he bent forward and dragged her out from under Scott. He latched onto her bound wrists as he turned her to face the wall by her bed. His hand pressed between her shoulder blades as he
licked
up the length of her throat. "Scream. Bring the neighbors. The police. They will enjoy the show."

"No." She whimpered, squirming as he reached around to unbutton her shorts. "No, I don't want them to know what a whore I am."

Sebastian chuckled. "I imagine you do not. Are you wet,
puta
?"

Fuck.
The question made her cunt throb. She nodded.

"I do not believe you." Sebastian barred an arm across her chest, spinning around so she faced Scott. "Remove her shorts and panties. If she lied, we will tie her to the bed and let the men in this place have her. I've no taste for dry pussy tonight."

Jami whimpered as Scott knelt and jerked her shorts and panties down to her ankles. He ran a hand up the inside of her thigh, hissing in a breath as his fingertips grazed the crease of her pussy.

He held his fingers up. They glistened in the lamplight. "She's dripping. And she smells fucking hot. I want a taste."

"Do you want him to taste you?" Sebastian cupped her breast, massaging it through her shirt. "Do you want his tongue on your cunt?"

"No." Jami gulped in air, digging her heels into the floor as her heart took arms against desire. She wanted Scott. Then she didn't. As soon as her brain got involved, she was confused.
I shouldn't be letting this happen. It's . . . it's wrong. So
so
wrong.

"What if you have no choice?"

She moaned and leaned her head back against Sebastian's chest. "I don't know."

"Jami." Scott straightened and cupped her cheek. "This whole scene aside, I know I'm not any kind of Dom. I'm not sure if I want to be. But this is kinky and fun. I won't deny I want you . . . still, if I've learned anything, I know you can end this with a word. The only one I know of is red. Say it if you want this to stop. No hard feelings."

Her fear was all fake, but looking at Scott, she saw his was real. Being torn out of the scene and offered a choice was all that was stopping her. She trusted Sebastian, and since he'd brought Scott, she trusted him too. Her uncertainty came because of Luke. Because he had a place in her heart whether she'd admit it or not. If he hadn't left them, the three of them would have negotiated what was allowed.