Delayed Penalty (The Dartmouth Cobras #5)

by Bianca Sommerland

  “Co—Sir—my butt being a little red is okay.” She let the tension out of her arms, still facing him over her shoulder, but lowering her eyes to offer her submission. “Dominik’s left bruises for less.”

  “That son of a bitch, I’ll—”

  “No! No, it’s not a bad thing!” She turned now, framing his hard jaw with her hands. “He knows my limits. You will too. He made sure I knew when to use my safeword, so trust me to if I can’t take any more.”

  “This shi—stuff is complicated.” He picked her up and carried her to the bed. “Let’s consider this first punishment a complete fail. Are you sorry for your dirty mouth? Your attitude?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She gasped as he dropped her on the bed, his hands on her inner thighs, pressing them apart. Her head fell back onto the pillows as he covered her with his mouth. “Ah! I shouldn’t—”

  “Shouldn’t what?” He gave her a positively wicked grin as he lifted his head. “Let me guess. You were a very bad girl, and I shouldn’t reward that kind of behavior.”

  “You shouldn’t.” But she fisted her hands in his hair as he trailed his tongue along her heated flesh, desperately hoping he didn’t agree and wouldn’t stop.

  He ate her like a starving man, thrusting and sucking until she squirmed mindlessly. Then he let out a low, humming sound and brought his head up again. “This isn’t your reward. It’s mine. Spanking you, rather than tasting you, was torture.”

  “I’m yours, Cort. You can take me, then spank me, or just . . .” Her body arched as he licked her like her body was dripping with sweet syrup. “Just keep doing that.”

  “I like that idea.” He pressed his lips against her hard, dipping his tongue in deep. Then replaced his tongue with his fingers. “Love how wet you are, baby. I could do this all night.”

  “Please, please just let me—” The heat of his mouth left her. She sat up as he stood and held out his hand. “What are you—?”

  “I never got to take my shower.” He smiled pleasantly as he drew her to her feet, pressing her mouth closed with a finger under her chin and raising his brow when her eyes narrowed. “You can join me, but don’t worry. I’ll let you come.” He gestured her ahead of him to the bathroom, laughing softly into her ear. “Eventually.”

  * * * *

  All the distraction had been more than welcome, but Cort had work to do. He dropped Akira off at her place just after noon, hating to see her go, yet knowing he couldn’t do what he had to with her making him feel like he could do no wrong.

  Because he could. He had to. He might not be doing all those things she thought were too much to deal with. Drugs, whores, blood . . .

  But she might consider what he was doing just as bad.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Every inch of the bar shone, the place was packed, and Ford was damn happy to be back. He’d started slow his first few days out of the hospital, but that didn’t keep him busy enough. Paperwork at the Forum took up most of his mornings, and now he could burn his empty nights surrounded by liquor and noise. See familiar faces.

  And try not to think of the faces he wished he could see.

  He avoided his sister’s steady gaze, one that said she knew something was up, and surveyed the crowd. Despite the celebratory mood of the night, people were starting to grumble. He had two waitresses working the floor, but only one was actually doing her job.

  The Cobras winning three games in a row was awesome, but Ford was starting to wonder if he’d need to hire a new girl. Angel had gone to see some family in Nashville and had somehow met Dave Hunt, the Cobras’ young backup goalie. After what she’d gone through, Ford hadn’t expected her to jump into another relationship, but over the last week that they’d been dating, Hunt had been treating her real good.

  And he’d better continue doing just that, or the Cobras would have to bring up yet another goalie from the minors. Ford finally glanced over at Silver as he placed the last of the glasses in the dishwasher under the bar, taking note of her hesitant smile as Dean held his hand out to her. Ford watched his sister follow Dean to the dance floor, the way she relaxed into the man’s arms as a slow song began. Nice to see her not so damn stressed.

  Silver had told him a little about the situation with Landon. The Cobras’ starting goalie was seeing the team’s shrink, and wouldn’t play again until he worked through his issues. Local fans were grumbling that the Cobras would never make the playoffs with Hunt in the nets, but Ford didn’t really give a shit if the team didn’t make it to the postseason. He knew Silver wouldn’t be happy without Landon, and she wouldn’t have him until he was well. Which he wasn’t.

  The front door opened and a cold draft rushed in before Cort pushed it shut behind him. He inclined his head to Ford. Ford returned the gesture, trying not to show that he was fucking happy to see the man. Things were still a little off between them, so Ford was relieved when Cort went to one of the pool tables in the back, probably to challenge someone to a game. He grinned when he saw Cort lay down a twenty.

  Bad idea, pal. Ford remembered Cort teaching him to play in his teens. How quickly Ford got the hang of the game. And how easily he’d started beating Cort. Unless the competition was pathetic, Cort would lose. But he knew that. He just liked to play, and setting down money was easier than being all friendly.

  Cort didn’t call many people friends. He kept few people close, which made Ford feel more than a little guilty about letting their friendship get all strained and shit. He should do something about that.

  He didn’t get a chance. Screams drew his—and everyone else’s—attention to the drama playing out across the bar.

  “I saw you looking at her! You want her! You’d be fucking her right now if I wasn’t here!”

  Ford frowned as Angel stormed away from Hunt. He’d never heard the waitress raise her voice, never mind scream like that. The petite brunette was usually friendly, soft-spoken with a tinkling laugh that drew customers in almost as much as her smile. That had changed a bit over the last week because she spent most of her time draped over her new boyfriend, but they were still in the honeymoon period. And Ford was pretty sure Hunt wasn’t even aware of a single woman besides her.

  Which was probably why Hunt looked lost as he followed her to the door. “I wasn’t looking at anyone, babe. I swear!”

  “You’re a liar! I can’t even stand to be near you right now!” Angel disappeared into the staff room where she’d left her coat, then came back out, still seething. “You’ve got a game tomorrow, so you’re probably going to have those sleazy puck bunnies all over you. I don’t know if I can do this anymore. I thought you were different.”

  “I am! Angel, please just tell me—”

  “Not right now, Dave.” She jerked away from Hunt when he reached for her. “Maybe I’ll call you tomorrow. Maybe I won’t. Just . . . don’t call me. I need some time to think.”

  Several of the Cobras approached Hunt as he slumped at the bar on a stool, but he ignored them all. “Can I have some vodka, Ford?”

  Vodka? The night before the game? Ford opened his mouth to suggest something else. Like Pepsi—except the kid didn’t usually drink anything besides orange juice or water.

  Suddenly, Cort was beside him, pouring the drink. “Just one. And don’t worry, your dad won’t find out.”

  “Shit, my dad . . .” Hunt scowled at the drink. He rolled his eyes, shook his head and let out a bitter laugh as he drained the tumbler in a single gulp. “Screw it. He’s already pissed that I’m dating her. Give me another.”

  “She told you what happened to her, right? Just give her some time.” Cort hesitated, then refilled Hunt’s glass. “Last one. We need you focused on the game tomorrow.”

  “She told me and—hell, how am I supposed to focus on anything? I think . . . I think I’m in love with her.”

  Well, that didn’t take long. Hunt was young, so it wasn’t all that surprising, but the timing was horrible. Would be so much easier to let it slide if Ford still didn�
��t give a shit about the team, but since he did, he was more than ready to show the kid the door.

  “Buddy, how about you wash that down with some water and listen for a sec.” Ford uncapped a bottle of water and placed it in front of Hunt. “You don’t have to understand why she’s pissed. Just that she’s hurting, you know? Find a way to make her feel good again. She loves big, romantic gestures and foreign films. Get her two dozen roses, write her a poem—hell, copy one off the internet if you’ve gotta—and tickets to one of them boring flicks.”

  “You really think that’s gonna work?”

  “Sure. She wouldn’t be flying off the handle if she didn’t like you, right?”

  “Guess not,” Hunt said, sounding hopeful.

  The little talk was kinda awkward since Ford and Hunt weren’t friends. Thankfully, Cort convinced Hunt to leave after he’d finished the water—and the vodka. Cort returned after making sure the kid got in a cab, helping Ford close up like he always had.

  “He’s a good kid, fucking talented, but emotional, you know?” Cort shook his head as he polished the bar. There was a tension in his every movement, and Ford wondered if Cort was starting to get invested in the team. He might be a Red Wings fan, but being with Akira might have split his alliances a little. Cort’s lips tightened as he dropped the rag into the sink. “This thing between him and Angel isn’t straightened up by tomorrow night and a loss is pretty much guaranteed.”

  “Yeah. Maybe I should talk to Silver—or Tim.” Ford thought on the last performance of the farm team goalie who’d been brought up as backup. He was decent. With the way the new guy, Zovko, was scoring, the team might manage a win. “Hunt keeps to himself a lot. They might not know—”

  “It’s no one’s business, Ford. Just leave it.” Cort flashed an apologetic smile when Ford’s brow shot up. “Sorry, Angel just told me how much pressure the kid gets from his dad. He doesn’t need anyone else meddling.”

  “Got it.” Ford took a deep breath, nodding to Silver as she headed out with Dean. He grinned as she stopped and came behind the bar to hug him. Pressing a kiss on her cheek, he searched her face for some sign that she was okay. Since he couldn’t tell, he just asked, “How you doing, little sis?”

  “I’m fine, but . . . I feel a little guilty.” She rested her head on his shoulder, seeming more comfortable with him now than she’d ever been. Things had changed for the better between them since his little trip to the hospital and he liked it. Having sisters was pretty cool. Having two who didn’t hate him even better. Silver sighed. “If I’d seen how bad things were for Landon sooner . . .”

  “Hey, don’t do that. You were both dealing with your own shit. If he’s any kind of man, he’ll understand once his head’s on straight.” He hugged her tight. “If not, just give me the word, and I’ll kick his ass for you.”

  Ford spotted Dean giving him a dirty look from the corner of his eye and smirked until Silver playfully slapped his chest. The stab of pain wiped the smirk right off his face.

  “Oh God, Ford! I’m sorry!” Silver pulled away, covering her mouth with her hand. “I should be asking how you’re doing. You really should come stay with us so I can take care of you.”

  He pretended to consider just so he could watch Dean’s jaw tick. The man really needed to chill out. Smiling, Ford patted his little sister’s cheek. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m all right. Got my nurse coming in almost daily to check on me.”

  “A nurse?” Silver grinned. “How respectable of you. Is it serious?”

  No comment. Ford just shrugged. He wouldn’t tell Silver, but he couldn’t think about any woman besides Akira. Which made Cort hanging around after Silver said goodbye even more awkward.

  And the bastard got straight to the point, as usual. “Good to see you’re moving on.”

  “I’m not.” Ford laughed bitterly as Cort’s eye narrowed. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to be stupid about it. Akira’s with you. I don’t like it, but I’m dealing. I promised her I’d be her friend and that hasn’t changed.”

  “She wants me to go with her to the club tomorrow. You okay with that?”

  Fuck no! His guts twisted as he imagined Akira kneeling to the man who’d once been his best friend after how long Ford had been working to be the man who earned her submission. But he gave Cort a stiff nod. “I’ve had to watch her with Dominik. Seeing her with you won’t be no different.”

  “You don’t have to be there.” Something like regret darkened Cort’s eyes. He looked away. “If it’s too hard—”

  “I used to go to the club every weekend. Started it for her, but found out it’s something I need too.” It had taken a few months. Playing gopher to the club’s Masters and Mistresses had almost gotten him to say “fuck it,” but then Chicklet had taught him how to use a whip and Carter had given him some lessons with the ropes. The more people saw he was serious, the more willing they were to help him out. He’d slowly gained confidence and the subs responded well. He’d kept his play light—no sex—but maybe that would change. There were a few cuties he could have fun with. Just the thought felt wrong, but the crooked smile he gave Cort was almost genuine. “Makes you feel any better, I won’t be there watching the two of you. Pischlar was talking about doing a chemical play scene. Might get in on that with him.”

  “Chemical play?” Cort’s brow furrowed. “Sounds dangerous.”

  Ford laughed. Damn, the man was clueless. “Most of it’s natural stuff. Some’s even edible.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Cort grinned. “A pretty little sub tied up while me and Pischlar suck cinnamon-flavored nipples. Mint where she’s all hot and wet and juicy—” Fuck, he missed talking to Cort like this. About anything. “Could be fun.”

  “Never thought you’d share a woman after what happened with Jami.” Cort’s grin faded. “How’s she doing, anyway? Haven’t seen her lately.”

  “She’s doing better. Spent a few days with her uncle, then went to Ramos’s place and ‘made up’ with Carter. Didn’t want details!” Ford pulled on his jacket and walked out with Cort, locking the bar behind them. “As for sharing . . . well, I lost control of things with Jami. I couldn’t be with a girl who could be with just anyone. At the club, it’s different. When I play with a chick, we negotiate and have some kind of connection, even if it’s just temporary. She’s trusting me. Pischlar’s a good Dom, so I won’t be all paranoid about how he’ll treat the woman. That was a big issue with me and Jami. I knew I wasn’t protecting her from those losers, and she didn’t want me to.”

  “Yeah, well, you and Jami were a hot mess.”

  “Sure were. But she’s happy and I’m happy for her.”

  Cort nodded slowly. “Maybe you and Akira will be able to have that t—”

  “Yeah, maybe.” All the good feelings were snuffed out like a healthy flame covered in dirt. What he’d had with Jami had been a wild ride on a highway in a fast car with no headlights. They were both lucky to have gotten out in one piece. He and Akira had almost had . . . damn it, he couldn’t even put a label on it. He’d really thought she was the one. Part of him still did.

  But that wasn’t something he could discuss with Cort. So he cut the conversation short, suddenly goddamn exhausted. Cort wanted to sit in on the team management meeting tomorrow and he was welcome to it. Once Ford had told him as much, he headed up to his apartment.

  His place had never felt so empty. There’d been times where he’d enjoyed having his own place to crash without anyone bothering him, but not anymore. He was actually relieved to hear Cam come in a few minutes after he’d dropped into bed. Cam hadn’t been at the bar since Cort was there, but Cort had probably called him before leaving.

  Much as he hated needing a bodyguard, he wasn’t in the frame of mind to complain tonight.

  He was so fucking tired of being alone.

  * * * *

  Akira tried on her third outfit and groaned as she turned from side to side, looking herself over in the mirror. It was Saturday night and the
first time she’d be going to the club with Cort. She knew the kinds of things Dominik liked to see her in, but she wanted something different for Cort. Wanted to wear something to please him.

  But what? He’d seen her in everything from sweats to skirts, jeans, pajamas, her Ice Girl uniforms. He never seemed to notice her clothes, whether she wore a bit of makeup or none at all. He only saw her.

  Which was wonderful. She got all warm and fuzzy when she thought about how he looked at her when she’d come out wearing one of his shirts. He’d be happy no matter what she settled on, but she wanted to render him speechless.

  “You look really sexy, Akira.” Jami held her breath as Sahara tightened the white corset with pretty, pale blue ribbons she’d chosen to go along with the short, fluffy white pettiskirt she was wearing. She rarely went to the club, but since neither her father or uncle would be there tonight, she’d finally given in and agreed to go with Akira and Sahara. Her cheeks were flushed and there’d been a bounce to her step all day.

  I missed this Jami. Akira smiled at Jami, then smoothed her hands over the sides of the white latex dress. “Thanks. Do you think he’ll like it?”

  “I don’t think you’ll be wearing it long enough for it to matter.” Jami winked, thanked Sahara, then moved to stand in front of the mirror with Akira. She toyed with a curly strand of the black wig which covered her short, light brown hair. She’d gone back to her natural color, but her own hair still didn’t quite reach her shoulders. Jami looked adorable no matter how long her hair was, but she’d recently admitted she missed having it long. Not that she regretted her choice to give Luke’s mother her hair. She was just eager for it to grow back. Which explained why she’d insisted both Akira and Sahara wear theirs loose.