Goal Line (The Dartmouth Cobras Book 7) (32 page)

Late that night, after having dinner with Heath and his siblings, and then helping Heath put his little brother and sister to bed, Sahara followed Dominik back to the room, not sure she’d ever been happier in her life. Granted, they’d planned a day of complete submission, but what they’d explored between them encompassed so much more than her accepting him as her Master.

He loved her.

She wanted to shout the words out loud—had ever since she’d truly accepted that she loved him—but fear of being alone in feeling that way had kept her silent. Until she’d looked into his eyes and seen he was with her. Even if she hadn’t said the words out loud, his every touch, every smile, told her she wouldn’t regret giving him her love.

If they went into the room and climbed right into the bed to sleep, today would still be perfect. This amazing, gentle, powerful man was hers. He kept all those he cared for, which was part of what made him so wonderful, but he still made her feel special. Like he’d guarded a part of himself that was a little more battered and bruised, but he’d let her past those shields because he needed her to stand there with him.

Nothing in the world meant more to her than proving she was worthy. That she was strong enough to protect the part of him that couldn’t take losing more than he already had.

In the bedroom closet, she grabbed a nightgown from her suitcase and brought it to the bed. She reached back to unzip her dress. “I don’t know anything about the high schools in Dartmouth, but Becky or Silver might know a good day care for Bran. He’s such a sweet little boy, but I think he needs to be around other kids his age. He whispers when he speaks. He should be—”

“He talks to you?” Dominik rose from where he’d been riffling through the black bag that had fallen on the other side of the bed during their nap. “I agree, he’s adorable. And very well-behaved. But he makes Ladd seem outspoken.”

Sahara had hardly noticed how little the Ladd brothers had spoken, considering how well Kimber filled the silence. She thought back on the few times Bran had said anything. He’d been shy with Dominik at first, but then he’d let Dominik put him in the high chair—he was so tiny, there was no way he could reach the table without one—and he’d nodded or shaken his head when Dominik filled his plate.

But it was either Sahara or Kimber he’d asked for anything from. Twice he’d touched Sahara’s arm and asked to go to the bathroom. Heath had gotten up and offered to bring him, but the poor toddler seemed almost as intimidated by his brother as he was by Dominik.

Kimber had cleared that up when they’d brought Bran to the woman’s bathroom.

“Our foster parents were nice, but they were really strict. I’m old enough that I did my own thing, but Bran just wanted to make them happy. Greg—our foster dad—was a big guy. When he yelled, all the kids would hide. Except for Bran. He’d sit there, all quiet, and color. People forgot he was there.”

Sahara’s heart broke for the little boy. At his age, he should be making noise, asking questions, making a mess. Instead, he was constantly watching the adults around him, afraid to draw attention to himself.

She tried to keep her tone level. “Did they ever hit him?”

“No! You think I would let that happen?” Kimber folded her arms over her chest. “There were six of us. Bran wasn’t even the youngest. Our foster mom had two babies to take care of. When I wasn’t at school, I took care of Bran.”

“But when you weren’t there…?”

“She kept him clean. Fed him.” Kimber hunched her shoulders. “She knew he wouldn’t be there forever, so she didn’t let him get attached to her. And the dad worked a lot. I don’t know…I think things would have been better if our real mom hadn’t died. She was nice. She used to brush my hair and tell me Daddy loved me. I think she believed it. He wasn’t around much, so I don’t think he loved any of us. He wasn’t at her funeral.”

Damn it, these kids had been through so much. Sahara wanted to hug Kimber, but the girl held herself stiff and proud, glaring in a way that made it clear she’d see any affection as pity.

“I miss her. She was sick all the time, but she tried. Dad didn’t. I’m happy he’s in jail. I hope he stays there.”

Nodding slowly, not sure how to respond, Sahara went to the door when she heard Bran trying to open it. The little boy might not talk much, but he was very independent. She held out her hand and he smiled up at her as he took it.

“Do you miss your nanny? There’s been a lot of big changes, huh?” She bit back a grin when Bran shrugged. The kid was just like his big brother.

Kimber snorted. “She was nice enough, but Bran never got close to her. He never really got close to anyone ’cept me.”

Bran smiled. “Kimber’s my mommy.”

“Kimber’s your sister, sweetie.” Sahara lowered to pick Bran up, hating how confused he looked. “But you have lots and lots of people who care about you. And her.”

“He’s not wrong. I’m kinda like his mom.” Kimber stuck close to Sahara’s side, speaking low. “I named him, you know. I taught him everything. So it’s my fault if he’s messed up.”

“He’s not messed up. Trust me, sweetie. Things are going to get better.” She had to lighten the mood before they got back to the table. She braced Bran on her hip and put her arm over Kimber’s shoulders. “Bran is a good name. Is it Australian?”

The girl laughed. “No, it’s from
Game of Thrones
! I’ve read all the books. My foster parents wouldn’t let me watch it, but I caught a few episodes online.”

Bran’s little hand pressed against Sahara’s cheek. “I like the wolves.”

“That’s wonderful!” Sahara arched a brow at Kimber, who ducked her head abashedly. She might not realize the show wasn’t appropriate for a girl her age, but she was well aware that her little brother shouldn’t be watching it. “We’ll find you some wolves. Are you ready for dessert?”

They’d gotten close to the table, so Bran had shrugged and hidden his face in the crook of her neck. He never did say what he wanted for dessert, so Dominik had gotten him small servings of several different things Kimber said he liked.

He’d taken tiny bites while sitting on Sahara’s lap. Maybe he had been extremely quiet, but she hadn’t been overly concerned about it at the time. He hadn’t shut down completely; he was just slow about letting people in.

The more secure he felt, the better he’d adapt. And she’d damn well make sure that the little boy, that both kids, knew they were safe and cared for.

“Sahara, are you all right?”

Glancing over at Dominik, Sahara smiled. “Yeah, I was just thinking about Bran. He’ll be fine.”

“Yes, he will be. But you look somewhere between angry and determined. Is there something I need to know?” Dominik abandoned the straps he’d been securing to the bathroom door—she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what those were for—and stepped up to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “If either of them was abused, we’ll need to look into therapy.”

“More neglect than abuse I think, but it would be good for them to see someone… What are you doing?”

Dominik flashed her one of his particularly evil smiles. “Preparing to torture my sweet little pet. I figured you’d want to get out of that dress first since you’ve got chocolate stains on the front…and the shoulder from the looks of it.”

She looked down and groaned as she saw the smears of melted chocolate ice cream. “Why didn’t you tell me? I look like a slob!”

“You looked like you were carrying a three-year-old. And he was holding on to you so tight, no one saw a thing until we left their room. Which means only Ladd and me.” He held out his hand, drawing her to him and bending down to lay an openmouthed kiss on her shoulder. “This flavor is delicious.”

She shivered, her thoughts shifting from the worries for tomorrow to all the possibilities for tonight. When Dominik peeled off her dress and let it fall to the floor, her pulse sped up. He picked up the wrist cuffs he’d removed earlier and left on the nightstand, then crooked his finger.

Inching closer to him, she offered up her wrists.

“Very soon, we will find a collar to match these.” Dominik secured the cuffs around her wrists. “You will be fully restrained tonight, but with a hard enough tug, these will give.”

Nodding, she took a moment to admire the way the cuffs looked on her wrists. They were snug enough that she could only slip a single finger under them, made of quality leather that was downy soft on the inside. The color of red wine with an intricate tooled pattern. But beautiful as they were, it was the weight of them on her wrists that she loved the most.

Dominik led her over to the closed door with the black straps. He clipped her wrist cuffs to a metal clip above her head on the thin ones, then lengthened the thicker ones and secured the padded loops around her upper thighs.

“Feet parted. Very pretty.” His soothing tone was deep with approval. “I will put the blindfold on you. And a small gag. It may be uncomfortable at first, but I need silence so I won’t miss any of the instructions.”

Instructions?
She frowned at him as he grabbed a small black ball gag from the bag and returned to her.

He grinned. “I won’t take your ability to hear just yet, so you’ll understand soon enough.”

The gag tasted awful, but the worst thing was not being able to ask him what the little pink rubber starfish he had was for. She really should have taken a look at what he had in that bag. He might have gotten rid of most of his sex toys when he’d questioned his desire to be in the lifestyle, but he’d certainly have no trouble restocking his collection.

He grabbed his tape from his sports bag. “This squeaks, so it will be taped to your hand. We wouldn’t want you to drop it. One squeak for yellow. Multiple for red—unless I’m asking you a direct question. Then one for yes and two for no. Understood?”

All right, that sounded good. She still had a way to communicate with him. She squeezed the starfish once.

“Perfect.” He brought the blindfold up to cover her eyes. A knock sounded at the door. “And excellent timing.”

Who the hell is that?
She swallowed hard, recalling his question about adding another Dom. Since she couldn’t see, she’d have no idea who it was. Unless they spoke.

Of course, they would speak, wouldn’t they? Dominik hadn’t done anything to stop her from hearing. And he’d want to make sure she was comfortable with whomever…

No, he’d expect her to trust him. To submit to whomever
he
trusted enough to bring into their bedroom.

She didn’t really like the idea of anyone else touching her, but this wasn’t about what she wanted. Maybe Dominik needed to bring another Master in to experience a threesome without the loss he’d experienced in the past. He didn’t share, but Doms had so many different reasons for sceneing with others.

Accepting his felt natural. She forced herself to steady her breaths and calm her racing pulse. She heard the footsteps coming closer. More than two sets.

At least she wasn’t naked. Yet.

“
Mon Dieu
, doesn’t she look pretty like that.” The voice was familiar, but she couldn’t place it as her heart started pounding, despite all her efforts to relax. “We need to pick up some of those straps. They’re perfect for traveling.”

Sahara’s brain finally caught up with what was happening.

The Dom was Landon Bower. Silver’s fiancé.

No. Hell no!

Shaking her head, she squeezed the starfish over and over and over.

* * * *

Dominik knew exactly why Sahara was
squeaking “red,” but he still immediately removed the gag, making a hushing sound when he saw she was panting. He hadn’t expected her to have such a strong reaction—maybe he should have. She was nothing if not loyal, and she had a terrible habit of expecting the worst.

“Deep breaths, pet. Talk to me.”

“I’m sorry, Sir, but I can’t. If you need to have a threesome, I’ll let it happen, but please, not with him. Silver will hate me.” She took a deep breath, automatically following his orders even though she still sounded panicked. “There’s no way she’s okay with this.”

True, Silver wasn’t the type to accept her Doms playing with anyone else. He’d even overheard a few rumors about her initial insecurities with Bower and Richter exploring their sexual attraction to one another.

But what he found interesting was the way Sahara said she would “let it happen” if he wanted a threesome. She would submit to whomever he chose to add to their scenes—barring a man in a relationship—but sex with two men wasn’t something she wanted or needed.

He wouldn’t lie. That pleased him.

“Bower’s here to show me a few tricks, pet. He won’t touch you at all.” He grinned when she let out a sigh of relief. Behind him, both Bower and Richter chuckled.

“Oh. Then I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No need to be sorry. I should have anticipated your reaction.” He kissed her cheek. “If it helps, Dean is here as well. I doubt he’d be comfortable watching you and me play with his man.”

She giggled, completely at ease now. “You never know. Max would enjoy it.”

Cheeky.
He grinned, happy to see the unpleasant surprise hadn’t ruined their scene.