BREAKAWAY (The Dartmouth Cobras) (59 page)

“Yeah,” Dominik said. “That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all night.”

Hand on the door, Sloan hesitated before climbing into the car beside Oriana. Beer made her sleepy, so he wasn’t all that surprised when her head on his chest slid down to his lap. He knew it would upset her if she knew what had passed between him and Dominik, but thankfully, Dominik cared about her enough to mask his anger.

What surprised Sloan the most was how long he’d waited to confront the man. Because he did care about him. As a teammate. As a friend.

But the restrictions Dominik imposed on his relationship with Oriana were more than he could take.

After tonight, that would end.

Chapter Twenty Eight

Luke knew his scruffy, pathetic playoff beard looked like shit. And that there was no reason to keep growing it. But he couldn’t bring himself to scrap away his only reminder of how close they’d come to The Cup.

If we’d hung on, just a little longer, we could have been in the same building with it.
He shook his head at his pitiful reflection. A week after the Kings had swept them from the semifinals and he was still in mourning. Beating the Sabres gave him such a rush that his expectations had soared. He’d never admit it to the other guys, but he hadn’t limited his hopes to making it to the finals. Again and again, in his dreams, he felt the weight of The Cup as he hefted it up, tears in his eyes which he didn’t try to hide because a win like that was one of the only times it was okay for a man to cry.

His mother had even told him she would be there. She didn’t know much about hockey, so when he told her this was the year the Cobras would go all the way, she believed him.

Get over it, Carter
. Squaring his shoulders, Luke used a facecloth to clean away the
gunk
in his eyes, rub away the weariness of not enough sleep and too much beer.
There’s always next year
.

If the team survived that long.

“You really need to shave.” Jami came into the bathroom, hugging him from behind with her good arm around his waist. “I hate seeing you like this, stud.”

Luke gave her a half-smile as he rubbed her arm. “And the rug burns on your neck probably suck, right?”

Jami giggled as he pulled her in front of him to nuzzle her neck, already red from the night before. With her hair short, it was much easier to access her sweet spots. One of the few perks to the loss of the long, silky strands.

“Not at all. But I miss you looking all pretty.”

Growling softly, Luke nipped her earlobe. “It will take more than a shave to make me pretty, boo.”

“Perhaps, but if you cleaned up and stopped sulking . . . .” Seb slipped into the room with a small black bag, the skin around his eyes and lips creasing slightly as he looked Luke over. “You would certainly be more appealing.”

 
“I’ve told you before. I’m not sulking.” Luke kissed Jami’s forehead, then turned to Seb with his arms folded over his chest. “I’m—”

“In mourning,” Jami and Seb said together.

“Yeah.” Luke raked his fingers through his hair and nodded slowly. “All right, I get it.”

“Good.” Seb unzipped the black bag, pulled out a leather pouch. Inside was a straight blade, which he flipped open with a flick of his wrist. “Then you will not object to me seeing it done properly.”

Eying the blade, Luke swallowed. Shook his head. Blood surged into his balls, making them hot and heavy. For some reason, a knife in Seb’s hands turned him on. Then again, it had been over a week since he’d gotten any. Maybe he was just
that
desperate. “No, Sir.”

Seb took a hand towel out from the bathroom cupboard, dropped it into the sink, and turned on the hot water. He laid out the rest of the supplies from his bag. An old fashioned, stiff bristled shaving brush, cleanser, and a bar of shaving soap. He had Luke sit on a small, ornate stool across from the sink, rang out the towel, then used it to cover Luke’s face.

Steam seeping into his pores and his pulse race as arousal flashed silver in the darkness, slicing low.
 
Seb wouldn’t cut him, but the risk in letting someone else hold something sharp against his flesh was heady. Seb removed the cloth smoothed on the cleanser and Luke trembled with anticipation. He shifted impatiently as Seb began applying the lathered soap with the brush.

“Be. Still.” Seb’s dark eyes were hooded as he lightly scraped the blade over Luke’s throat. His knees pressed between Luke’s parted thighs. “I wouldn’t want to cut you.”

Hissing in a breath, Luke closed his eyes, fixated on the blade gliding over his skin. On the slight pull of Seb’s fingers on his cheek. On the repetitive motion, which lulled him into a passive haze, where he moved only when Seb guided him to one side of the other. He didn’t feel spacey, just . . . extremely relaxed.

But the last scrape on his cheek left him aching for more. Water ran in the sink. He groaned as Seb pushed two damp fingers into his mouth.

Seb’s hot lips pressed against his clean shaven cheek. “So smooth. I will do the same to other parts of you during the trip.” His voice dropped, low and husky, close to Luke’s ear. “And you will let me.”

“Fuck, yes.” Luke groaned as the next scrape, up the length of his throat, reverberated into the base of his cock. He shook as he fought to keep still. The idea of a blade on his balls shouldn’t have him so close to losing control. But it did. Moisture seeped from the head of his dick and he cursed under his breath. “Do it, Seb. I want you to do it now.”

 
“I know you do, niño.” Seb finished shaving him with one last slow graze up the other side of his neck. “Be patient.”

After applying a stinging aftershave, Seb patted his cheek and left to finish packing for their trip to Spain. Luke inhaled roughly, tossing a shaky grin over at Jami, who hadn’t moved from where he’d placed her in front of the sink. “Learned your lesson yet?”

“Hell, yes. And I know
exactly
how you feel right now. When he helped me take a bath the other day . . . .” Jami lifted her hand to her shoulder, as though to play with hair that no longer reached that far. She shook her head and fiddled with the collar of her snug, white lace shirt instead. “I have to admit, though, it’s getting easier. I wasn’t thinking about sex when we went to the charity ball. Or when we visited your mom. She’s . . . amazing. I can see how you ended up the way you are.”

Luke wasn’t sure what to make of that. So he asked. “Is that a compliment?”

“Definitely.” Jami’s fingers inched up to the close cut hair at the nape of her neck. “You’re strong. And smart. And so fucking dedicated. I wish . . . .” She shook her head and backed out of the bathroom. “I should go get ready.”

While visiting with his mother, Jami had broken down once and told him and Seb that she wished she had a mother like his. One that cared. After a good cry, sitting in Seb’s lap with her head on Luke’s shoulder, she’d pulled herself together and told them they were forbidden to bring up her mother ever again. Luke didn’t have the heart to argue with her, but was surprised Seb had agreed.

We can talk about my mom though. My mom loves her.

Hands braced on his knees, Luke bit his trembling bottom lip. He couldn’t look at Jami without seeing the grateful tears in his mother’s eyes. But he hadn’t told her what it had meant to him, not really. His choked ‘thank you’ hadn’t been enough.

He found her in the guest bedroom, trying on some hats—which Seb had told her she’d need for Spain to prevent sunstroke. He watched her open the suitcase she’d brought over from her place days before, pulling out several styling brushes to place on the bed.

“Can I tell you something?” He winced as she jumped, tripping over the side of the bed, her face tense with pain as her cast hit the footboard. “Aw, boo, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay.” Jami took a deep breath and glanced up at him. “What’s up?”

Luke stepped up to her side, pulling her into his arms, holding her tight against him as he breathed in the sweet scent of her fruity shampoo. Absorbed her warmth. “What you did for my mom—“

“It was nothing.”

“It was everything.” He stroked his hand over her cute pixy cut. “You’re one hell of a woman, you know that?”

“Not like her. She’s so strong—the kind of woman I want to be. The entire time she was there, all she talked about was how proud she is of you. How she never doubted you’d make it. I can’t imagine . . . .” Jami smiled. “No, actually, I can. My dad’s like that. And I never really saw it before. All I thought about was how my mother wasn’t there for me. But it was stupid to hang on to that when I have so much.” She shrugged, picking up a thick comb, which she stuffed into her suitcase before zipping it shut. “The only thing your mother would admit was that losing her hair for the surgery bothered her. The way she welcomed me into her home, the way she told me I was everything she’d always wanted for you—I had to give her something in return.”

“You didn’t have to.” Luke’s hand shook as he cupped Jami’s face in his hands. “But I’m glad you did. I’m
kinda
shocked that Seb let you though.”

“Are you? Really?” Jami arched a brow. “He wouldn’t take credit for it, but if he hadn’t paid extra, they wouldn’t have been able to make the wig so fast. I think he got to the technician, telling her about your mom. She cried when we told her we loved what she’d done with my hair. Seb called her before we left to tell her your mom loved it.”

“She does. But . . . .” Luke flicked a strand over Jami’s ear. “Are you okay with it?”

“Sure.” Jami shrugged, moving away from him to study herself in the mirror. She narrowed her eyes at a small red cut on her forehead. The bruises around it had faded, but it would likely leave a small scar. “It’s nothing compared to . . . ugh, I don’t know. I wish there was a way I could get clean.” She held up her hand before Luke could protest. “I know, I know, ‘I’m not dirty’. But I still feel like I am. Like if I’d been . . . normal, Lee wouldn’t have been interested in me.”

“What’s normal?” Luke reached up to press his hand gently against her cheek. “I don’t think a ‘normal’ girl would have cut off all her hair for a woman she hardly knows. A normal girl wouldn’t be able to love two men the way you do.” He grinned to lighten things up a bit. “And a normal girl wouldn’t be able to call me on my shit.”

“True.” Jami gave him a crooked smile and smacked his chest. “Speaking of which, you’re breaking all the rules. No sex. If Seb had caught you in my bed last night—“

“We didn’t have sex!” Luke winked at her doubtful look. “Ask Clinton.”

“Still . . . you’re going to get punished.”

“I certainly hope so.” Luke moved closer to her, making a low sound in his throat as her soft breast flattened against his chest. “Do you think he’ll spank me?”

Jami snorted. “I think he knows you like it as much as I do.” She reached between them, unzipped his jeans, and slipped her hand right into his boxers to cup his balls. An evil little smile slit across her lips. “He might not let you come for a month.”

Luke curved his hand around the back of Jami’s neck, breathing hard as she teased him. “He’s already doing that.”

She frowned. “He never said a month. The trip—”

“Is another way to get close. With all the activities he’s planned, I doubt we'll have time for . . . .” He groaned as Jami withdrew her hand. “I want you so much it hurts.”

“Then maybe we should do something about it.” Jami kissed her fingertips, then touched them to his lips. “I’ll meet you out at the car.”

“Sure.” Luke shook his head when she reached for her luggage. “I’ve got it, boo. Go before Seb starts thinking something’s up.” When she turned, he latched an arm across her stomach. Holding her still, he teased a tender spot behind her ear with his lips and tongue, palming her breast and running his thumb over a pebbled nipple until she squirmed. She let out a sound of raw need as he let her go. “Consider this motivation. I’ve got a plan.”

Chapter Twenty Nine

Exploring the ruins of the San Pedro de
Arlanza
drained Sebastian, even though wondering through the decrepit, but beautifully gothic structure had always taken him away from harsh reality as a child. Stone walls, crumbling around the edges, towered over him, bleached and stained by the elements, yet still standing tall after centuries, were simply awesome to behold. Bringing Luke and Jami here, having them hang on to his every word as he detailed the rich history of the monastery—much like his mother had over and over until he was old enough to repeat the stories—made him feel closer to them than all the diners and shows and outings put together. He almost forgot how cruel the midday sun could be until Jami began lagging behind. He could ignore his own exhaustion—plane trips and new surroundings often left him feeling out of sorts—but he would not ignore Jami’s.

He did, however, pretend not to hear her protests when he announced that it was time to go.

“There is a Spanish tradition I would like to introduce you both to,” he said as he climbed into the driver’s seat of their rented car. He grinned when they both leaned towards him. “Siesta.”

“Isn’t that like a nap?” Luke groaned at Sebastian’s nod. “Seriously? I didn’t come all the way to Spain to sleep.”

Jami turned in her seat to give Luke a dirty look. “Do you have to complain about everything?”

“Lately? Yeah.” Luke’s lips quirked. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t such a tease.”

“Oh bite me.”

“I would absolutely love to.” Luke trailed his finger over her bare shoulder, slightly reddened despite the liberal amount of sunscreen Sebastian had used on her. Blue eyes hooded, he moved closer to graze the flesh he’d touched with his teeth. “Should I start here?”

“
Mmm
. . . .” Jami’s tipped her head to the side as Luke stroked along her throat with his fingertips. “There’s good.”

“Tell me when to stop . . . .”

Sebastian put his hand over Luke’s, lifting his brow when Luke frowned. “She needs her rest.”