Offside (5 page)

All she could do was shake her head and stop herself from smacking Silver when the younger woman giggled.

* * * *

Not in the mood for leather and props, Zach slid onto a bench at the bar in Blades & Ice, dressed in worn jeans and a faded grey Cobra T-shirt. The BDSM club was ringing with excitement, with life, but none of the energy reached him. A heaviness settled on his chest, as though he’d lifted too much weight and didn’t even have the strength left for the roll of shame. All he could do was let it crush him.

You knew Scott wouldn’t stay.

Resting a hand on the motorcycle helmet he’d dropped on the seat beside him when he’d come in, Zach waved to the Domme manning the bar. Chicklet came over but paused with the whiskey bottle in her hand.

“You sure?”

Zach arched a brow. “Did I give you the impression I was here to play?”

“With the right sub? I don’t see why not.” Chicklet propped her elbows on the bar, her black, partially shredded metal studded T-shirt stretching around her broad shoulders. Not big enough to make her butch, but close. Between her beer league and practicing with the whip, the woman was in excellent shape. She intimidated most—even the Doms—but not Zach. He simply respected her as the equal she was. And had come to value her opinion. “I could have told you getting mixed up with Demyan was a bad idea. Find yourself a nice, passive twink that will appreciate you. Wayne’s got the flu. His sub would love some attention.”

Swiveling on his chair, Zach searched the room for the big bouncer’s lithe sub, Mickey. The young man was serving drinks. Keeping him busy was the only way to prevent him from approaching every Dom and Domme in the club with pleading, puppy-dog eyes. Without his Dom around to rein him in, he practically reeked of desperation.

Taking Mickey on would be worse than accepting the little Scott was willing to offer. Easy. Shallow. Zach needed substance when he played, a connection even if it wasn’t long-term. Mickey couldn’t give him that.

He was a little surprised Chicklet had suggested it. She usually seemed more perceptive. But he’d play along. “Someone should take care of the boy. He looks lost.”

Chicklet straightened. “Yep.”

“And he’d be easy to deal with.”

“Very true.”

Zach nodded and pushed his shot glass aside. “All right. This should be interesting. I’ll see you—”

“Fuck off!” Chicklet threw her head back, laughing as though he’d said something hysterical. “Nothing fazes you, does it? I was just testing the water, sport. You need to get back in the game, but doing it with him would be stupid. There aren’t many male subs available here. You object to a woman?”

His whole body went stiff, but he kept his expression neutral. Ever since he’d confessed to the press that he preferred men, people treated him differently. No one would have questioned him taking on a female sub before—it was considered “natural.” Now everyone acted as though doing so would be going against his . . . inclinations.

He gave Chicklet a level look. “Do you prefer men or women, Chicklet?”

“Women.” Chicklet frowned. “Why?”

“I guess Tyler’s shit out of luck then.” Zach lifted his glass, tipping it slightly toward her before taking a blazing sip. “Such a shame. I would consider him if he was available.”

“He’s not.” Chicklet gnashed her teeth, eyes narrowing as she studied him. “And that’s not fucking funny.”

Leaning back in his chair, Zach regarded her steadily. “It wasn’t meant to be. I was making a point.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Which is?”

“My preferences don’t restrict me anymore than they do you. I need a sub who needs me. And not just for one night.”

Chicklet’s lips slanted slightly as she glanced toward the door. “Good. You’re in luck.” She jerked her chin. “I’m sure you’ve met Rebecca Bower.”

He frowned at her, then followed her gaze to where Becky stood, close behind Richter, wearing a provocative slave dress. The white cotton was threadbare at the hem, so thin it was almost see-through, but unlike many women with the curves Becky had, she didn’t seem uncomfortable in her own skin. Not that she should be. Her curves made her luscious and soft. Unlike his teammates, he didn’t find himself attracted to the puck bunnies that made themselves available after every game. In his thirty-two years, he’d only had a relationship with one woman. Sue. The woman he’d seen himself spending the rest of his life with, whom he’d given his heart to. But they’d both been young. Ambitious. She’d moved to Washington to pursue a political career, and the long-distance relationship had been hard on her.

Hard on us both.

Their breakup had been amicable, and he still considered her a friend. But he’d never found another woman like her, one he could confide in, one he could share everything with. She’d been the first person he’d experimented with in the lifestyle. The first person he’d come out to. He smiled as he recalled her reaction. Sue had rushed to her bedroom and brought him all the gay romance novels she’d read. Breathlessly admitted she’d love to see him with another man.

But he hadn’t wanted anyone but her. To him, it didn’t matter if he was with a man or a woman. He was faithful.

Still, he’d been tempted.

After seeing so many on his team find happiness in ménage relationships, he wondered if things would have been different if he’d considered the idea. What if they’d found a man they could both love? A man who could have been with her while he was on the road.

But Sue was happily married, so there was no point in looking back.

Looking forward, all he could think of was Becky. She stirred something inside him that no one had in a long time. He reflected for a moment, realizing it wasn’t simply a sexual allure. As she looked to Richter before signing in, as she followed him with her head down and her gaze lowered, Zach felt the pull of her submissive nature. A need that went beyond sex. A need he was desperate to fulfill.

“I have met Becky.” He handed his helmet to Chicklet so she could stash it behind the bar. “Please excuse me.”

Across the room, Becky trailed Richter as he checked in with each of the DMs, both Dommes. Richter overlooked a piercing scene, then moved to a sitting area, motioning for Becky to kneel as he gestured toward the bar for a drink. He idly stroked Becky’s hair, reclining on a leather sofa, speaking softly to her as she relaxed at his feet, resting her head against his thigh. Just being in that position seemed to bring her to a peaceful state.

But Zach knew he could give her more.

“Your pet is lovely, Sir.” Zach clasped his hands at the small of his back, resisting the urge to touch the woman he knew was under Richter’s protection for the night. “May I speak to her?”

“You may.” Richter rubbed his hands on his leather pants, his tone light, but hesitant. “But first, I have to admit I’m a little confused. You’ve made your preferences clear.”

“I’m not sure I have.” Zach forced his tone to remain neutral. “I appreciate a precious gift, and it doesn’t much matter who gives it.”

Lifting her head, soft brown hair drifting over her shoulders, Becky looked up at him, lips parting slightly, blinking as though she couldn’t quite believe the word “precious” could possibly be aimed at her. She drew in a soft inhale as he regarded her steadily to make it clear this was exactly how he saw her. Precious and beautiful. He caught uncertainty in her gaze. Something vulnerable.

You didn’t come of your own accord, did you, little doe?
He tightened his grip on his wrist behind his back. He needed to touch her, more than he’d ever needed to touch anyone. Her eyes were a soft grey, like the fur of the kitten his sister had as a child. But something about her eyes reminded him more of a doe, something he hadn’t noticed when they’d first met. Out in the world, she came across bold. Fearless—except when it came to her daughter. Here she was timid, exploring the darkness with wide eyes, ready to dart away at any careless approach. The part of her that would brave out a scene just to satisfy her baser urges would shield the tender side which would run for cover.

But he didn’t want her to hide. Not from him.

“There are many Doms here you could play with, Becky. And then there’s me. I’ve thought about you a lot today, hoping you weren’t alone, dwelling on things you can’t change. Seeing you here . . . I think I can help you.” He glanced at Richter, waited for his nod, then held out his hand. “And I promise you won’t regret it.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed. She lifted her hand, lowered it, nibbling at her bottom lip. “What do you want from me?”

“Only what you’re willing to give. We’ll start slow.”

“This is just for tonight. I’m not sure if I can come back.” Her brow furrowed. “I’m not sure I should be here now.”

“But you are here. And we’ll see if you’ll be happy with ‘just tonight.’ Because I already know I won’t be.” His breath caught as she laid her wrist in his palm. His skin tingled under the warmth of her smooth, delicate flesh. He pulled her to her feet and brought his other hand up to cup her cheek. Then he smiled. “I haven’t scared you away?”

“No. Damn you, you said exactly what I needed to hear.” She looked down at her bare feet. “I didn’t want to come.”

She hadn’t seemed all that resistant when she’d arrived. He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Why not?”

“Because, if I’d wanted something meaningless, I could have made one phone call and had it.” She glanced up at him quickly, then away. “But I don’t want that.”

He knew she was thinking about Scott. Which made it even more important that he keep the man out of his head. So he teased the hair at the nape of her neck with his fingertips and chuckled. “I take it you wouldn’t object to talking, before and after? And perhaps a date, even though it could be considered a little backward?”

“I don’t mind doing things backward.” She grinned. “My mom still wants you to come over.”

“And I plan to take her up on the invite.”

“Good.” She nibbled her bottom lip. “But tonight . . . ?”

“Tonight I’d like to explore your needs.” He already had something in mind. Something that would leave her fulfilled, yet wanting more. “Make you happy you came.”

She turned her head and pressed a light kiss on his palm. “I already am.”

“Good.” He leaned close, brushing his lips over hers. “Then I guess it can only get better.”

T
he music screamed, but Becky hardly heard it. It was nothing but white noise in the distance. And the scenes around her were nothing but echoes of movement in the shadows beyond the sectioned off area Zach led her to. A gasp tore her away from the tranquil state she was in for a beat, but then he picked her up and sat her on the leather, padded table, tapping her cheek lightly so her focus returned to him.

“We should discuss the rules.”

Her eyes widened. More rules than the obvious? Unless he didn’t know she had experience?
Maybe I should tell him.

She opened her mouth.

He shook his head and placed a finger over her lips. “Listen first, little doe. It’s clear you aren’t new to this. But I am new to you. I feel more comfortable going over what I expect from a sub before I play with him or her. I do enjoy certain formalities, but no more than you’re comfortable with.”

“I’m comfortable with it all. I’ve been taught well.”

“Have you?” He rubbed his chin, nodding slowly. “You seemed surprised when I mentioned discussing rules.”

“I apologize. I’m used to Doms knowing how experienced I am.”

“So they assume you’ll know what they want.”

“Exactly.”

“I try not to assume anything.” He glanced over at a scene where a Dom spoke harshly to a sub who fidgeted as she knelt before him. The girl gave her Dom a blank look, like she really didn’t get what she’d done wrong. Zach shook his head. His lips thinned. “I need to know what you expect from me.”

“I don’t understand.” And she really didn’t. She was here. He was a Dom. All she expected was for him to take control and let her please him. Not that she was sure anything she could do would.

What if he’s settling for me because there’s no one else?

“Do you need me to help you forget what happened today, Becky?”

She winced.
Oh, Casey. I hope you’re okay, baby.
Her gaze lowered to her bare feet. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“It is. All you have to do it lose yourself to what I do to you.”

Do to me?
She held her breath, more than a little confused. He’d asked nothing of her yet. Other Doms expected her to kneel gracefully, to dress just right, to anticipate their commands. At the clubs she’d gone to before, she never had a problem finding a Dom because she made them look good. Fine, some Doms wanted a challenge, but dealing with a young, bratty sub could get tiresome. She didn’t need to act out to get attention. Actually, she didn’t really need attention at all. She just needed to settle into the nice predictable zone where she could turn over control to someone else.

It wouldn’t take long to show Zach she could do the same with him.

“Tell me what you need, Sir.” She let her hands rest on her knees, utterly passive, ready for him to tell her what to do next. The only thing that made her uncertain was his being gay. Most Doms would tell her to strip right off. He might not need her naked to play.

To him you’re a sub. Not a woman.

Her throat tightened slightly. She’d wanted a man to see her as more. To want her as a woman. She’d be missing out on that with Zach.

He did mention a date.

Great. Maybe they could go shopping together. Or see some chick flick. It would be just like hanging out with a woman. He could be her new best friend.

And what’s wrong with that? You don’t have many friends.

“I will tell you, pet.” Zach took hold of the bottom of his T-shirt, then pulled it over his head. “When I’m ready.”

Her mouth went dry. He was . . .
damn
. A pure work of art in muscle and ink. She drank him in like gulps of fresh, spring water after a long hike. The tattoo covering most of his right arm caught her attention, and she found herself drawn in to the intricate details. A weeping angel perched on a tombstone, beneath a tree with limbs that seemed barren at first, but looking closer, held tiny pale green buds. The dead grass among the graves gave way to fresh patches. New life amidst death.