Chapter 6: Chapter Six

Chicklet woke to the most wonderful aroma slipping through her subconscious and making her mouth water. Fresh coffee, melted chocolate and butter, whatever was sizzling on the frying pan smelled absolutely divine. She rolled over, her brow shooting up when she saw Laura still in bed with her. Laura’s eyes were wide.

“Should we be afraid?” Laura shoved the blankets off and slipped naked from the bed.

Head propped up on her hand, Chicklet enjoyed the sway of Laura’s sweet round ass as her girl went to the closet to grab her robe. If she hadn’t worn Laura out last night, she might have a hard decision on her hands. Drag her girl back to bed for some early dessert, or head to the kitchen to see what smelled so damn good. But she knew Tyler was trying to do something nice and she needed to see that he was all right. He’d told her he needed some time alone after he’d come in late—had slept in his own room, which she rarely permitted. But she’d given him his space rather than force the issue when they were both exhausted. This gesture meant he was ready to talk.

And he’s smart enough to sweeten me up a bit first. Chicklet threw her legs over the side of the bed, grabbing Laura and kissing the side of her neck before leaving the bedroom, wearing only the black boxers and white tank top she’d slept in. All that she knew about what had happened the night before had come from Pearce, who’d texted her before Tyler had gotten home. Which had given her time to get angry, to think things over, then to meet Raif and Tyler at the door without being a total bitch to her sub.

Not that she didn’t have a right to scream at him and tell him that he’d never pissed her off this much. Many women would dump their boyfriend for something like this. Or at least cut him off until he did some major sucking up. Who put up with their man getting arrested after a drunk night out with the boys?

But Tyler wasn’t just her boyfriend. He was her sub, and part of the attraction was that he needed her to give him a safe place to land after he got out of control, like one of those super balls that hit the ceiling, the walls, moving too fast to catch. That energy was exhilarating when it was carefully contained, but sometimes she knew she had to let him bounce around and do those foolish things young men did.

He’d gone too far this time, but there had to be a reason. He’d asked to be brought to heel with a punishment he hadn’t earned, and Raif had given it to him. The punishment had seemed fitting, but hadn’t leveled Tyler out like she’d hoped.

In the kitchen, she pulled out a chair and sat at the small glass breakfast table, smiling at the bouquet of baby’s breath in a crystal vase on the table. Chicklet wasn’t big on flowers, but these were Laura’s favorite. Laura was standing by the table with a hesitant smile on her lips, looking from the flowers to the counter where Tyler was drizzling chocolate syrup over crepes filled with fresh strawberries and whipped cream.

“I didn’t know you could make crepes. They look delicious, Tyler!” Laura eased into the seat across from Chicklet as Tyler brought over the plates. “What’s the occasion? I thought you had practice?”

Tyler hesitated, then set the plates in front of Chicklet and Laura. “Callahan told me not to bother to come in today—got a meeting this afternoon. I’m suspended for three games.”

Fork frozen in midair, Chicklet resisted the urge to go find her phone and call her dear friend, Sloan Callahan, to ask him what the hell was going on. Charges had been dropped. Unless the arrest had gone public, there was no reason to keep Tyler from playing.

She looked up as Tyler handed her a cup of coffee. “Can you bring me the paper please?”

“Of course.” Tyler went to get it from the table in the hall. “But if you’re looking for anything about what happened last night, you won’t find it. No one seems to know anything about the cops showing up besides…well, Callahan knows. And Keane.”

Damn it! Chicklet took the paper from Tyler and placed it on the table. She caught Laura sitting upright and stiff from the corner of her eye, but she’d handle that later. “What is the team saying publicly about the suspension?”

Shrugging, Tyler went to get three glass bowls of berries to put on the table around the flowers. “Me, Scott, and Luke party too much. They want us to smarten up before the playoffs.”

“Which is reasonable.” Chicklet took a huge bite of crepe, moaning around the mouthful as the strawberries’ sweetness joined the rich flavor of dark chocolate. She licked her lips before speaking again. “What will you do until you’re back on the ice?”

Her question made Tyler pale a little. He took a sip from his own coffee. Which he was drinking black—a rare thing. His stomach must be bothering him. He hadn’t made himself a crepe. “I have a meeting with my manager and my agent before the meeting with Richter. My agent told me I can’t hang out with Luke or Scott anymore, and he wasn’t sure ‘what I expect him to do with my latest fuck-up.’”

“I don’t think much needs to be done. You’ve been suspended. Offer to do some extra charity work, spend more time in the gym, and be on your best behavior. This will be forgotten before too long.” Chicklet brought her coffee to her lips, arching her brow when Laura dropped her fork on her plate with a noisy clatter. “Is there a problem, love?”

Laura stood and pushed her chair in. “Of course not, Mistress. I just have to get to work.”

Checking her watch, Chicklet saw that Laura had plenty of time. Which meant she wasn’t being honest. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had irritated her girl, but Laura would tell them herself. Tapping her nails on the table, she gave Laura a thin smile. “Let’s try that answer again.”

Shooting Tyler a dirty look, Laura squared her shoulders. “He’s in trouble with the police, and for some reason everyone’s acting like it’s no big deal. I happen to respect the law.”

“Everyone, Laura?” Chicklet kept her tone light, knowing Laura wouldn’t speak as freely if she was in the submissive zone. This was good. She missed her girl having opinions of her own. “Tyler’s been suspended. I don’t think anyone’s acting like it’s no big deal.”

“You are.”

“I’m discussing things with him. I’m disappointed, not angry. But if you’re pissed off, go ahead and tell him so.” Chicklet smiled pleasantly and went back to savoring her breakfast. She watched the uncertain look Tyler and Laura exchanged.

Tyler dropped his gaze first. Swallowed hard. “Laura, I’m sorry. I fucked up last night barging in on your scene. And then I got drunk and played a really stupid prank and got arrested. I respect the law, I really do. I just wasn’t thinking. I won’t do it again.”

Laura’s lips thinned. “What exactly did you do?”

“Uh…kinda borrowed Raif’s car. Without asking.”

“So you stole it. Grand theft auto and DUI. Yep.” Laura plastered a fake smile on her lips. “I’m glad you’re sorry. That makes it all better. A few days off from playing hockey is a perfectly reasonable punishment.”

There were times when Chicklet had to let her subs work things out themselves. Unfortunately, it rarely went smoothly when one of them was mad at the other, but that didn’t happen often. She watched Tyler’s jaw harden, then relax, as though he was annoyed, but doing his best to remain composed.

That’s my boy.

“I wasn’t driving drunk, Laura. And hockey is my career. Do cops consider suspensions just a few days off?”

So not the right thing to say. Chicklet held back a groan as Laura’s eyes flashed with anger. “Are you seriously going to compare your job to mine?”

“That’s not what I’m saying! I know your job is important, but—”

“But? You stupid boy, you have no idea how many people I’ve seen taken to the morgue because of idiots like you! You should still be behind bars and—”

Time to step in. Chicklet held up her hands as she stood. “That’s enough, Laura. From the details Pearce gave me, Demyan drove the car and he didn’t drink at the club. I agree, it was stupid—” she glanced over at Tyler, who nodded quickly, then turned back to Laura “—and you have every right to be mad. But let’s try to discuss this calmly.”

“I’m sorry, Mistress, but I can’t do that right now. I have to go to work, and I just hope the few people who know I’m involved with him haven’t heard about this.” Laura let out a bitter laugh, then rolled her eyes. “What am I thinking? He’s a famous hockey player. It’s a miracle this isn’t front page news.”

After going to their room to change into her uniform, Laura returned to the kitchen to kiss Chicklet, leaving without another word. Tyler scowled at the floor, wincing when Laura shut the door a little harder than necessary. Chicklet got them both more coffee—and two Tylenols for her boy. He thanked her quietly.

Leaning against the counter, Chicklet’s lips curved as she sipped her coffee, eyes half closed as she slowly inhaled the fragrant steam. Things certainly weren’t dull around here. She opened her eyes when she heard Tyler moving across the room and watched him drop heavily into a chair.

Head in his hands, shoulders slumped, he looked absolutely miserable. “She really hates me, doesn’t she?”

She slipped up behind him and stroked his arms, her tone soft and low. “She doesn’t hate you. But this mess is going to take some time to clean up. Give her some space. Do whatever your coach and the GM ask you to. Make more empty promises about never drinking again.”

The throaty laugh he released made her smile, but he quickly cut it off as he tipped his head back to look up at her. “You don’t seem all that pissed, Chicklet.”

“Chicklet,” not Mistress. In a way, his not going all submissive was good. He hadn’t misbehaved in a scene and she didn’t want to punish him—the team had already chosen their own form of discipline. She wanted to speak to him as his lover first. Then decide how this needed to be handled as his Domme. They had some bigger issues to work through, and she couldn’t help him until she figured out what they were.

“I was pissed. Now I’m more worried than anything. You boys have done reckless things in the past, but this goes beyond getting drunk and having your nipples pierced.”

“I kissed Luke.” Tyler’s face immediately went red and he tried to duck his head, but she grabbed his chin before he could.

Her fingers, still tipped with long black nails, framed his jaw as she studied his face. His lip didn’t look too bad, no more than a little sore. His big blue eyes were wide, adding to his innocent angel appearance and making him look even younger than his twenty-three years. The sun streaming through the window made his pale gold curls practically glow. But she’d seen the passion of a man in those eyes, felt the strength in the body he worked so hard to keep in good shape. His dedication to the game, his loyalty to those he cared for, was fierce. A lot of people only saw the angel and thought he was fragile.

She saw the whole man, tough when he needed to be. And sometimes, when he didn’t.

Very few managed to get through to his vulnerable side. She did—and the fact that Tyler had kissed Luke made her wonder if his two closest friends knew how to as well. “You’ve never shown any interest in being with a man before.”

“I’m not interested. I was curious.” His eyes shifted so he was staring at the wall behind her. She didn’t think he meant to evade her gaze. More like he was hiding something, even from himself. “Found out it’s definitely not my thing.”

“So kissing Luke was repulsive?” She chuckled as his face reddened even more. “Are you sure it’s not just him?”

“Well…kissing him was just weird. Kinda hurt.”

“But?”

Tyler cleared his throat. “When he kissed me it was different, but Scott said it’s because I’m a sub and Luke was being all Dom-like so it makes sense. Didn’t want more though. I don’t like boys.”

Chicklet found it cute that he said that with such conviction, even though his body was telling her a different story. She slid her hand to his throat to feel his racing pulse. Looked into his big eyes as they met hers. His tongue flicked over his bottom lip, and she considered giving Ramos a call to see if she could borrow his sub for a little experiment. I would have so much fun with these boys. Maybe it’s time to throw a little party.

She had to dig a bit deeper first though. Tyler was still insisting it “wasn’t his thing.” “If it was different when he kissed you, why did you stop him?”

“Scott stopped him. But I would have anyway because he’s my best friend and that would be weird. Can we not talk about it anymore?”

“Why? Does this conversation make you uncomfortable?”

“Yeah, just a bit.”

“Tough.” Chicklet released his throat and patted his cheek. “I didn’t give you permission to kiss Luke. Or anyone else. So the least you can do is be honest with me about it.”

Sitting forward, then turning as Chicklet circled his chair, Tyler shook his head. “I am being honest! The scene with Raif had me a little messed up, okay?”

Now that makes a lot more sense. Time to take things up a notch. She planted her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes. “Watch your tone, boy.”

Hands gripped tight to either side of his chair, Tyler’s lips parted. He was breathing fast, his chest rising and falling even as he seemed to struggle to go still. His entire bearing changed, and when he spoke again, his voice was soft and full of respect. “I’m sorry, Mistress.”

“Enough sorrys. Raif had you messed up. Tell me more about that.” She kicked his feet farther apart and put one bare foot up on his chair, right up close to his crotch. Resting her elbow on her bent knee, she lowered her chin to her fist and waited patiently as he chewed on his bottom lip.

He had sexy fucking lips that got nice and red when he bit them. But it was distracting her with thoughts of how she could have him using his lips and his teeth and she couldn’t have that. She slid her toes closer to his crotch, pressing them against his fully erect cock.

Very nice. And the light pressure got him talking. “The scene had me messed up. People saw me on my hands and knees, submitting to him. And I didn’t even care at first, but then I realized…”

“Realized what?”

He blinked. Shook his head. “It was wrong.”

“Because he’s a man?” My poor boy. So confused. She could see it in his eyes even as she curled and uncurled her toes to stroke him. “Were you this hard for him?”

Tyler closed his eyes. Drew in a sharp breath before shaking his head. “No.”

Liar. But she wouldn’t toss the accusation in his face, not when this was the very thing that had pushed him so far over the edge. This was more than curiosity—which she could have handled easily enough with another male sub if Tyler’s friendship with Luke made it too awkward. Raif’s last words to her had things all tangled up, and she couldn’t control him as she could a boy of her choice. Tyler had never had a male lover, and Raif had made it clear he wasn’t one to seduce straight men.

Ramos had once enjoyed doing so, but he was out of the game. She knew other men who liked the challenge, only none she trusted with her boy. The care Raif had shown Tyler went a long way in earning her trust. And she had a feeling Tyler was attracted to him.

And fighting that attraction very, very hard. She encouraged her subs to experience every kind of pleasure she could offer them. Found a way to work it in to play when she could. Laura wasn’t turned on by men, but she got off on Chicklet’s reaction to seeing her with the ones her Mistress chose.

Maybe Raif could be a temporary addition to the toy bag she used for Tyler. It could also lead to more; she wouldn’t know until they discussed it. Which would only happen if she could get Tyler beyond his stubborn insistence that he was absolutely straight.

Speaking of toy bags…she had an idea. Moving her foot, she straightened and made a vague motion toward her bedroom. “Go fetch your toys, my sweet angel.”

He practically tripped off the chair, tipping it over as his foot caught the leg. Even as the chair hit the ground, his body pressed against hers and his lips grazed her cheek as he whispered, “Yes, my goddess.”

Fuck, he was bold. She raked her fingers through his hair, loving the soft texture of his curls as she fisted them in her hands. He let out a low growl as she brought his lips to hers and nipped him, careful of the stiches above his upper lip. Some might think she treated him like a pet, and maybe she did, but he wasn’t like anything so domestic as a puppy. More like a young wolf she’d only partially tamed. He would always be a little wild, ready to be stroked one minute, then run at full speed through life the next. Never the alpha of the pack, but that didn’t make him weak. Knowing that he needed to lick the hand that fed him, the hand that brought him to heel with pain and pleasure and love…

When she saw him with Luke and Scott, it made her feel a little better about getting involved long-term because their men were doing the same. She released Tyler, jerking her chin to the bedroom, and watching him stride off to do as he was told. Loving anyone who had a wild spirit could be challenging, but it was so worth it in the end. Things never got boring and they kept you young because they took life head-on, never slowing down.

Making them slow down as they rounded the curves was all you could ever do. Tyler was rounding a curve now. Ready to hit the brakes, which would spin him off course. But this time, she had to encourage him to keep his foot on the gas.

And speed onto the next long stretch of road, neither of them knowing where it would go.

* * * *

Tyler snatched the leather sports bag out of Chicklet’s closet, knocking over Laura’s in the process. A zipped plastic bag full of dildos, all different sizes and colors, hit the floor and he quickly picked it up and stuffed it back inside. His face got all hot but not from seeing the big fake dicks. He’d seen them before—even used them on Laura during scenes with her and Chicklet. There was nothing like them in his own bag, which was a very good thing. The muscles in his ass tensed just thinking about his Mistress using one of those big rubber cocks—

The floorboards creaked near the doorway and he spun around, his face growing even hotter as Chicklet gave him one of those slow smiles, telling him she’d guessed what he was thinking.

She came toward him, taking his bag and setting it on the bed. “Bring me Laura’s as well.”

Oh shit! He really didn’t want to. Actually, he should probably get ready for his meetings. Callahan would kill him if he was late. So would his agent. Fine, he had a few hours, but traffic could be really bad. “Uh, Chicklet, I—”

“Don’t understand what you were told to do?” She hooked her fingers to the front of his T-shirt and jerked him so close he could taste the mint on her breath. Blood surged into his rapidly swelling cock, leaving his brain without enough to remember where he’d wanted to go. Or why.

He didn’t forget what Chicklet wanted him to do though. He swallowed and nodded. “Get the bag.”

“Yes.” She released his collar and sat on the edge of the bed as he went to fetch Laura’s bag. As she went through the array of toys, he stood in front of her, trying to keep his eyes off the things she was taking out. A quick glance and all he saw were long black boxes. She stood before he could make out the pictures on the side. Her hand pressed against his cheek so he looked at her instead. “Take your clothes off, Tyler. And don’t look so worried. We will renegotiate, but I haven’t forgotten your limits.”

Renegotiate? The heat in his cheeks receded as he pulled his shirt up over his head. He let it fall to the floor between them. Undid his belt, hissing in a breath as Chicklet drew her nails down his chest with just enough pressure to leave light red marks on his flesh. Her hand wrapped around his throbbing cock as soon as he lowered his jeans. He managed to kick them off without shifting her grip.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, my angel, you know that?” Chicklet gently stroked him, moving closer so her small breasts pressed against his chest. Her nipples were erect under her tank top, and he wished she’d take off the shirt so he could feel them on his skin. She knew how much he loved her breasts, so she would let him enjoy them if he made her happy.

But that wasn’t the only reason he wanted to make her happy. Every time he pleased her, all the messed-up parts of his head shut up and the doubts were gone. He didn’t think he was anything special to look at, not like the other men who were all big muscles and rough, manly features. But the way she touched him, her hot gaze sliding over every inch of him so possessively, told him he was absolutely perfect to her.

She was his everything, the only person he’d ever been sure of in his life. His breaths slowed as his Mistress’s hand slipped from his dick and she walked around him, trailing her fingertip up his arm, across his shoulders, her lips following the path of her finger. A shiver passed through him as she kissed the nape of his neck and smoothed her hands down his back.

Her hands covered his ass and she squeezed, digging her nails in so hard he had to clench his jaw to keep from gasping. He wasn’t big on pain, but he wasn’t a complete wimp either.

“There was nothing sexual to your scene with Raif, was there?”

The question threw him off-balance. His dick was already so fucking hard it hurt, and his breathing wasn’t quite so steady anymore as a bead of precum leaked from the tip. He quickly shook his head, not sure he could manage actual words.

“So he didn’t touch you? It’s good that I thanked him for you then.” Her tone was light, as though they were talking about his play during the Cobras’ last game. But what was she saying? He waited for her to clarify. “I’m not sure me sucking his cock and leaving him unsatisfied was sufficient though, considering what happened after. It was intended as both a warning and an invitation. I think I owe him an apology.”

“You don’t—you can’t!” He couldn’t find the right way to say what he meant. The idea of his Mistress on her knees for Raif? Wrong, so very fucking wrong. He fisted his hands at his sides, seeing Raif kissing Pearce, the image of Chicklet gazing up at Raif replacing it and making him shake with rage. Not because he was jealous. He didn’t tell Chicklet what she could or couldn’t do. He just couldn’t stand the idea of her submitting to anyone. Her hard stare had him trying his best to explain. “No one can take your control, Mistress. Please don’t give it up for me, not even for a second. If anyone owes him anything, it’s me.”

“I don’t think there’s anything you could give him that he’d want, my boy.” Chicklet still had a hard grip on his ass. She massaged the tight muscles, mingling a rough pleasure with the pain of her nails digging into his skin. “But don’t worry, I didn’t give him any control.” She let out a soft laugh. “I did enjoy taking his though.”

Tyler wasn’t sure what she meant. He couldn’t see Raif giving up control any more than he wanted to see Chicklet doing so. If she said she hadn’t though, then she hadn’t. That was all that mattered.

“Anyway, back to our negotiations. Face the bed and put your hands on the mattress.” With a sharp smack on his ass, Chicklet stepped away and went to grab the boxes off the bed.

He watched her, then forced himself to follow her instructions without telling her how much he hated this position. He’d only ever been in this position for impact play, but unless it was for punishment, she usually had him so turned on he didn’t care what she did to him. He had a bad feeling about this.

Her steady steps moved around the room. The curtains were thrown open and the glaring sun reminded him why drinking was such a bad idea no matter how much fun he had while throwing back the hard stuff. Tylenol had lessened the painful throb to a dull ache, but not enough to let him forget how stupid he’d been.

“It’s been, what, about two years since we had this discussion?” Chicklet asked as she plugged something into the wall outlet beside the bed. “Head down, boy.”

Staring at the silver design in the crimson microfiber comforter covering the bed, Tyler lifted his shoulders in a stiff shrug. “Guess so. But we were sitting at a table and you were writing stuff down then.”

His own defensive tone surprised him. He moved to lift his head, but Chicklet’s hand pressed gently against it, keeping him in place. “I have no problem putting this in writing if you need it, Tyler.”

“I don’t. I’m sorry, I’m not sure why I said that.”

“Because you’re feeling exposed and you don’t know what I’m planning. I’ll let you know if your uncertainty verges on rudeness, don’t worry.” She ran her hand up and down his spine. “Try to relax.”

“Be easier if I knew what you were gonna do to me.” Tyler bit the inside of his cheek as her hand drifted down, between his legs. She cupped his balls and he pressed his eyes shut. Wouldn’t take much for him to come, no matter how “uncertain” he was. His dick twitched as she closed her hand around his nutsack. The rest of him went perfectly still.

He was always real polite, if not completely silent, when Chicklet had a firm grip on his balls.

Still can’t relax. He didn’t know a man that could, restrained like this. Ropes wouldn’t be more effective.

“Penetration is on your hard limits, along with blood play, needle play, and…” She cleared her throat, her voice hinting at amusement. “Any kind play that’s ‘like bathroom stuff.’”

“Yeah. None of that’s changed.”

She didn’t seem to hear him. “My hard limits included some of those, and some things you’d never even heard of at the time.”

Sounds good. I’m liking the status quo. His heart was pounding because he wasn’t an idiot. If he let himself think about it, he could figure out what she’d consider changing. But he released a strangled laugh. “I get it. I got my nipples pierced, so maybe we could try…”

He couldn’t even say it. Not even jokingly like he’d planned to.

She chuckled, rolling his balls in her hand. “What could we try, my angel? Say it.”

He shook his head.

Her grip tightened.

“I was kidding. I’ve seen it at the club and—”

“It?”

Shuddering, he managed to get the word out. “Needle play.”

The grip on his nutsack loosened up and he inhaled deeply. The kiss Chicklet pressed between his shoulder blades as she released his balls calmed him some. But then he heard the distinct sound of a condom wrapper being ripped. He stiffened at a rubber snap. Gloves too?

Chicklet made a soft, hushing sound. “Trust me, Tyler. Your limits haven’t changed.” When she paused, a loud buzzing filled the room. “Yet.”

Her hand, covered with a snug rubber glove, was on his ass, spreading his cheeks. Some blunt, vibrating thing pressed against his anus and he jerked his hips away. A slap on his thigh warned him to stay put.

His legs were kicked farther apart. The vibrations returned and he muffled a groan. Shit, this shouldn’t feel good, but it did. There were all kinds of nerves back there and they flared up, intense enough to drive him out of his mind. He bucked his hips back and fisted his hands in the comforter.

“Fuck!” His muscles drew taut. He couldn’t take much more, the pleasure was like nothing he’d ever experienced. He trembled as the vibrations increased. No way would he come without permission, but he wasn’t sure he could stop himself. “Mistress, may I—”

“Not yet. Take a breath and hold back for me.” Her voice was low, soothing, as though she wanted to help him follow her command. Without making it easier. She shifted and a bottle cap popped. Cool liquid spilled over his sensitive, fairly burning flesh, right around where the blunt vibrator pushed against him. The liquid warmed slightly, then more and more even as it dripped down his balls.

Holy fuck, this was torture. Erotic torture, so fucking good, but…not enough. He groaned out loud as the vibrator pressed harder, slipping with the lube. The pressure on the space between his balls and his hole didn’t give him any relief. But then Chicklet’s fingers were there, the rubber covering them slick with lube, circling the ring of muscle.

But going no further. She respected his hard limits.

“Loosen your arms a little, my boy. And tell me—tell me how good it feels.”

“It’s fucking amazing. I want…” He shouldn’t want her to go any further. Then again, who the fuck had decided that? Him? He panted as beads of sweat gathered above his lips, on his temples, making him slick all over. “Please!”

“Tell me what you want, Tyler.” Chicklet kissed the small of his back, still teasing him with the tips of her fingers. “If you’re changing your hard limits, I need the words.”

Words. Right. Real words that made sense. He gritted his teeth against another surge of rolling heat and lowered his head until it was almost touching the bed. “Please, Mistress. I want to…feel you. Inside—not enough.”

“Then we’ll cross out that limit.” She eased the tip of her finger inside him and he let out an incoherent curse. His balls, his dick, his ass—everything throbbed like his heart was beating for the sensations alone, leaving the rest of him to fade away. All the control he had left went to delaying his release. Then she worked another finger inside him and twisted both around, erasing the burn with the slight curve of her fingers. She touched something and pleasure shattered within like a cool glass dropped in boiling water. A throat-scoring shout escaped him as he came, thrusting forward, all his remaining strength spurting out with the hot mess on the comforter. He almost dropped onto it, but Chicklet held him up with one arm around his waist.

She let him kneel and pressed his head against her thigh as he slowly returned to planet-fucking-Earth. Every part of his body ached, as if he’d been on a sex marathon. Hell, he hadn’t done anything! But this woman, this incredible woman, knew how to drive him out of his mind and leave him…well, just like this. Breathless, at her feet, without the strength or desire to be anywhere else.

Only problem was, he hadn’t done anything. He looked up and pressed his teeth into his bottom lip. There was a satisfied smile on her lips, not much different than the one she wore after he had his face between her thighs for half the night.

“Can you stand?” The edge of her lips curved up and her tone was teasing. She held her hand out when he nodded and tried to rise on shaky legs. Drawing him to the bed, she removed her gloves and stripped the comforter. She gestured for him to lie down, then stretched out beside him. They lay there together for a long time, her fingers laced with his, her gaze never leaving his face. She brought her other hand up, grazing his cheek with her knuckles. “I should ask you to forgive me for cheating.”

“Don’t.” He smiled, his eyes half closed, so relaxed he decided staying right here, all day, was the best idea ever. “Everything you do is perfect.”

“You’re a goof.” Chicklet shoved his shoulder and sat up with a sigh. “I’d like to discuss this more, but you need to get ready for your meetings. Wear the new suit Laura bought you. And try to eat something—toast, at least. You’re going to have a rough day.”

Again, staying here was the best idea. He rolled onto his back and dropped his arm over his eyes. “What’s to discuss?”

“It can wait, Tyler. Now get up.”

He got up, ignoring the heaviness weighing down his whole body. She was right, he had to go. But there was one thing that couldn’t wait, something hanging between them which would bug him the whole time he was away from her if he didn’t get it out in the open now.

“Can you come to my room while I get changed? I wanna ask you something.”

She nodded and followed him to his room, standing in the doorway as he took out his suit. The suit Laura had gotten him was different from the ones his mom usually helped him choose, more of a modern cut, a matte black single button jacket and pants, simple white shirt, and a black tie that was thinner than the ones he usually wore. He took his time with the buttons of his shirt, his head down as he tried to figure out the right way to word his question.

“Spit it out, boy. You look like you’re trying to figure out the answers to your SATs.” Chicklet grinned at him when he looked up. “Or let’s try this. I’m thinking you want to ask me what prompted the change.”

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he inclined his head.

“You want Raif—no, don’t argue with me. Your scene with him ‘messed you up.’ Your own words. I sucked his dick, so you’re free to play with him.”

“He don’t want me—not that I’m saying you’re right. I don’t want him either.” And damn it, Tyler knew he didn’t sound as sure as he’d tried to. Chicklet saw right through him, so he kept going before she thought he was lying to her. “He’s Raif Zovko. Yeah, maybe if there was a man I was gonna let do me, it would’ve been him. But he’s a fucking asshole. He’s trying to get between Scott and Pearce.”

“What if he wasn’t? Would that change anything?”

“No.”

She frowned.

Tyler tugged his suit jacket straight, then folded his arms over his chest. “Fine. Maybe. But he still don’t want me.”

Chicklet reached out and put her hand over his folded arms. Gave him the bracing smile that she’d given him when the Cobras were on a losing streak, the same one she’d given him when he was sure his head was too fucked up to let him ever get on the ice again. Her smile made anything seem possible.

“Then make him.”