Iron Cross: The Dartmouth Cobras #6 (46 page)

Maybe if Tyler got off the bed and knelt at Raif’s feet, he could salvage the night. Pretend this was all innocent. But he knew Raif would prefer honesty. Tyler refused to be sneaky, and he hadn’t really done anything wrong. His relationship with Chicklet and Laura had lasted so long because they were truthful with one another about their needs. His relationship with Raif would be no different.

“You didn’t interrupt anything. I asked Pischlar to come hang out. Thought he needed a drink because…well, he can tell you more if he wants to.” Tyler sat up, lowering his gaze at Raif’s hard look. “I was thinking about what you said when we were with Chicklet and…yes.”

The edge of Raif’s lips curved slightly. He moved closer and tipped Tyler’s chin up with a finger. “You have a strange way of asking for permission, boy. You’re lucky you are with a man—a
Dom
—I trust. We will work on your negotiation skills.”

“You weren’t here to negotiate anything with.” Tyler winced as Raif framed his jaw with enough pressure to keep him from backing away. “I wouldn’t have done anything—”

“I am aware of that, but proceed with caution, Tyler. We have a…unique arrangement. However, my absence isn’t an excuse.”

“You’re right.”

“Yes. And from now on, you will refrain from touching or kissing anyone without first clearing it with me or Chicklet.” Raif relaxed his hold on Tyler’s face. Smiled as he patted Tyler’s cheek. “No harm done. You may continue with your movie. I have some calls to make.”

“Should I fix us all some drinks?”

Raif already had his phone out, but he nodded even as he brought it to his ear. And held up two fingers.

As Tyler went to take out a few small bottles of rum from the minibar and cans of Coke from the small fridge, Pischlar paused the movie and threw his legs over the side of the bed. He put his hand on Tyler’s shoulder.

“What is this, Vanek? I don’t want your pity.”

“This isn’t pity, this is… Fuck, I probably should have said something. Now it’s all awkward. Chicklet and Raif brought up me…doing stuff. With another guy.” Awkward wasn’t the word for discussing all this. Tyler was shaking and he knew his face was red, and he knocked over the first plastic cup twice as he tried to pour the soda. “I wasn’t really planning anything, but I kinda assumed—”

“I’m easy.” Pischlar chuckled and took the small bottle of rum from Tyler’s hand. “Chill out, kid. You let your Dom know you want to try something. You’ve got nothing else to worry about. You have no say in what happens from here on.”

And that was supposed to help him “chill out”? Tyler was pretty damn sure he’d gotten in way over his head. People should not let him decide anything more complicated than what color boxers he put on in the morning.

Handing him a cup of rum and Coke, Pischlar took a sip from his own, his gaze never leaving Tyler’s face. “Can I ask what the two was about?”

“Raif won’t let me drink before a scene, but…” Tyler gulped down his drink, positive there wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to give him the liquid courage he needed to get through the night. “For anything else there’s a limit of two.”

“‘Anything else?’” Pischlar arched a brow as though he didn’t understand, but Tyler knew the man was fucking with him. The next offhanded remark proved it. “You’ve been bold so far, boy. Don’t be vague now.”

“Boy”?
Tyler gaped up at Pischlar as his friend crowded him against the desk. Unless they were at the club, he rarely saw Pischlar as a Dom. But they wouldn’t do a scene. He didn’t have anything to worry about…did he?

Pischlar didn’t lay a hand on him, but his presence was enough to make Tyler feel restrained. To bring Tyler to that place where all he wanted to do was obey. He
’d been turned on before because Pischlar was hot, and Tyler had a new appreciation for the male body and what the strength in all those muscles could do to him. A taste of Pischlar’s dominance had him rock hard and ready.

He chewed at his bottom lip as Pischlar continued to wait for his answer. Drew in a rough inhale. “Sex. I’m allowed two drinks before sex.”

With a positively evil grin on his lips, Pischlar took Tyler’s cup and fixed him a refill. After handing the cup to Tyler, Pischlar lifted his own in cheers. “Then you’d best drink up.” He glanced over at Raif, his fingers hovering close to Tyler’s lips. At Raif’s nod, he slid his fingers over the moisture on Tyler’s bottom lip. “I’d like to show you the rest of that tattoo.”

* * * *

Raif hung up with his agent, who’d hounded him about feeling around for offers from other teams. For the longest time, Raif couldn’t give the man a definite answer, but as he’d told Tyler, things had changed. If the Cobras would have him, he would consider Dartmouth his permanent home. He knew he could potentially play for five more years—ten with no major injuries if he remained in good condition.

His only concern had been that if things didn’t last with Tyler, his presence would be difficult for Zach. He disliked being so practical, but he wouldn’t make long-term plans without considering every angle. He’d been up front with Zach, assuring him that while their relationship was in the past, their friendship would hold strong. If Raif making himself look bad to the team to protect Zach’s secrets didn’t prove his loyalty, nothing would. Raif had put the distance between them originally, but he’d done his best to define what they would be to one another from this point on. He couldn’t leave things open for Zach to fall back on him as a lover if the man couldn’t salvage his marriage or whatever he had with Demyan.

Thankfully, Zach wanted the same. He insisted he could repair the damage he’d done. What he wouldn’t tell Raif was why he’d intentionally done the damage in the first place.

There’d been no new revelations after their chat, which left Raif frustrated, feeling useless. He’d returned to the room with his focus on Tyler, sure his boy would be waiting for him, impatient as ever, and bring his focus back to where it belonged.

Finding Tyler in bed with Pischlar had…well, not upset Raif, but he couldn’t figure out how he should react. He wasn’t jealous exactly, but he considered Tyler his, if only in part. As he’d spoken to Tyler he’d observed Pischlar’s laid-back attitude and realized that was probably exactly what had appealed to Tyler. Raif and Chicklet had planted the idea of being shared in Tyler’s head. His boy probably hadn’t thought long on the matter, he’d simply reacted to the opportunity.

In the future, Raif would be more firm about his limits, but he couldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy the way Tyler toyed with the forbidden before stopping to make sure he hadn’t gone too far. Raif watched Pischlar trace his fingers across Tyler’s lips before returning to the bed. Raif avoided Tyler’s uncertain look, preferring to leave his boy wondering where they—as in he and Pischlar—would take things from here. He let his gaze travel over Pischlar, spread out across the bed, shirt off, arms folded behind his head as the movie played. Tight muscles, a long, lithe body with tattoos covering more and more of his skin every time Raif saw him. The earrings weren’t something that Raif typically found attractive, but they fit with Pischlar’s complete ownership of himself as a person. As though the ink and the metal were outward displays of how very different he was from what people might expect.

The kind of man Raif would have gone after when he was single. One with no expectations, because life had taught him the moment was all that mattered. Only, those men he could walk away from at the end of the night. Both he and Tyler would see Pischlar every day at practice. He imagined Tyler hadn’t considered that, or hadn’t considered it an issue, but Pischlar was Tyler’s friend. Tyler worried about the other man. Whatever had happened tonight, Raif had a feeling Tyler was trying to make it better.

Not horrible motivations, but Raif hadn’t wanted any potential sharing to be complicated. He could see Tyler diving in and then drowning in regret because he hadn’t thought further than giving his friend an outlet for the night. His boy had no experience with casual sex.

But Raif did. And Pischlar was known for his careless flings. The night could be enjoyable for them all, but only with the assurance that Tyler knew the experience was nothing more. Tyler had seen Chicklet share Laura. This would be handled in the same manner.

With no question about that simple fact, or they would go no further. He approached the bed, blocking Pischlar’s view of the TV. “Since we’ve decided against being vague, what do you want with my sub?”

Over by the desk, Tyler choked on his quick gulp of rum and Coke.

Pischlar gave Raif a lazy smile. “Whatever you’ll give me. I didn’t come in here with the intention of fucking him, Zovko, but I wouldn’t object.”

Raif inclined his head. He appreciated Pischlar’s bluntness. “And tomorrow?”

“I’ve played with Carter. I won’t go into details, but do you see me treating him as anything more than a friend?”

Tyler was coughing louder now. He stared at Pischlar. “You’ve…
what
?”

A casual shrug, and then Pischlar patted the bed beside him. “Doesn’t mean you’re not special tonight, Vanek. But once I leave this bed—all symbolically and everything—you will be the same man to me. A friend. Your Master needs to hear that. And so do I, from both of you.”

The implication was amusing. Raif wasn’t a young man to mistake lust for love. “My reputation should speak for itself,
Easy
.”

“Of course, because sneaking around with an old flame shows how quickly you move on.” Pischlar’s tone hadn’t changed, but his gaze was direct, and he didn’t seem to care that Raif’s eyes narrowed in response. Actually, his lips quirked slightly. “This isn’t a scene, but we’re pushing the boundaries a bit. Don’t get all pissed off because I need to hear you say you won’t want to keep me, Zovko. He’s your sub, so you’ll be in control the whole time.”

“Yes, I will.” Raif let his gaze trail over Pischlar again, a surge of desire hardening his cock and a heavy heat settling in his balls. The man’s frank assessment irked him, but he could understand the necessity. Not many Doms were comfortable submitting to another in any fashion—Pischlar would do so only temporarily. They would be equals in every way once they left this room. Raif nodded. “I’ve no desire to ‘keep you,’ Pischlar. Tyler is a handful, but he is mine because I love him. You would frustrate the hell out of me.”

“I’d do my best.” Pischlar winked, then cleared his throat. “I don’t think he’ll come when I call. Could you tell your boy to get back on the bed with me? The movie’s almost over.”

Before Raif had a chance to say a word to Tyler, his boy slammed his empty cup on the desk, making an aggravated sound as he stared at them. “This
isn’t
a scene. I’m his boyfriend, Pisch, not his damn dog.”

“Fine. Can I play with your boyfriend, Zovko?” Pischlar rolled while reaching out, latched on to the waist of Tyler’s pants, and tugged him until Tyler either had to climb on the bed or fall on top of him. As Tyler knelt awkwardly at the edge of the mattress, Pischlar let out a soft laugh. “I think he’s shy now that he knows what we’re going to do to him.”

Shyness wasn’t a label Raif would have ever placed on Tyler, but he could tell his boy was nervous. And frayed nerves tended to sour Tyler’s attitude. Raif moved up behind Tyler, stroking along the back of his neck and his spine as he would a skittish colt. A bit and a lead would likely ease the way, but Raif could handle Tyler just fine without. “Relax, Ty. I would like you in the same position as when I came into the room.”

Tyler shivered as he reclined on the bed on his side, low enough to get a close look at the tattoo on Pischlar’s pelvis. Raif settled his hand on Tyler’s nape as Pischlar undid his belt, his pants, and pushed them down just to expose the swallow and the coordinates beneath it. The waistband of his white boxers held his dick out of sight, but he was clearly hardening under the restraining material.

The tattoo seemed to fascinate Tyler. He stopped trembling as he traced his fingers over the body of the bird. His thumb went over the numbers. “What do these mean?”

“They are the coordinates for Villach, Austria. Where I was born.” Pischlar rested his head on the pillow, hands open against the bed, forearms tense. “Fuck, Vanek…”

“What?” Tyler lifted his head, sliding his fingers down past the tattoo. He licked his lips and slipped his fingertips under the elastic waistband. “This doesn’t look comfortable.”

This time, Pischlar’s laugh was strained. “
Nervensäge
!”

Raif’s German was rusty, but he was pretty sure Pischlar had just called Tyler a brat. He wouldn’t be the first. Raif chuckled as Tyler continued to toy with a sensitive spot he found near the bird’s beak. “I think my ‘boyfriend’ intends to play with you, Easy.”

“He gonna do more than play?” Pischlar hooked his thumbs to his boxers and lifted his ass to pull them down and reveal his cock. Long and hooded with foreskin, which seemed to give Tyler pause. Raif had noticed in locker room that Pischlar wasn’t circumcised; he didn’t make a habit of staring at other men since straight ones became uncomfortable, but a cursory glance was all he’d needed and Pischlar spent more time naked than most players.

Tyler likely kept his gaze above waist-level when he was in the showers. But he didn’t hesitate for long before wrapping his hand around Pischlar’s cock, loosely stroking while he watched the other man’s face. Pischlar groaned and pressed his eyes shut.