Chapter 15: Chapter Fifteen

The weather was absolutely perfect on the third day of the cruise—even better than the first with the sun blazing down from a cloud-free sky. But it might as well have been pissing rain. Scott frowned as he hauled Sahara’s suitcases up to the deck, squinting against the glaring sun. And the flashing lights from the cameras. He’d slept well, despite the continuing uncertainty of what was gonna happen with him and Zach, yet, waking and knowing today was the day that Sahara was going to be unloaded in Manhattan—at least she had family in New York—made him feel like a failure. He was supposed to be her friend. He should have been able to do something to prevent her being kicked off the boat. This whole thing felt like being hauled to the sin bin after some asshole put on a medal-worthy diving performance.

“Demyan, does it bother you that your girlfriend is leaving? Or does this give you the opportunity to sample the rest of the girls?”

Scott scowled at the reporter. Not one of those invited on the cruise. Scum seeping up from New York, looking for a story. He ground his teeth, dropping Sahara’s luggage at his feet. “No comment.”

“Higgins has made public statements about how Sahara procured a contract with the Dartmouth Cobra Ice Girls. Would you care to comment about that?”

The next reporter was a woman. The sharp edge to her tone grated at him. As a woman, shouldn’t she be at least a little sympathetic? Pictures of Sahara without makeup concealing her fading bruises had gone viral the night before. Rumors about the kinky tendencies of the Cobras had a lot of people speculating that Sahara just liked it rough. A photo of Higgins dragging her out of a club had surfaced as well, but no one seemed to care how obvious it was that she’d been trying to get away from him. Everyone figured it was “a scene.” And everyone had read all those mainstream erotic books and considered themselves experts. As far as they were concerned, Sahara was a sub, acting out. One couldn’t show interest in BDSM, then claim abuse.

Worst thing was, Sahara hadn’t said anything about wanting to be in the lifestyle. But if she was involved with the Cobras, she must want it. And she’d get no pity from the outside world.

Scott knew better than to air any of his personal feelings. Nothing he could say would help her anyway. So he stood up straight and glared at the cameras. “No comment.”

When Sahara came to his side, his stiff countenance faltered. She looked so broken he didn’t hesitate to take her into his arms and kiss her cheeks, whispering things he hoped would make her feel a little better. Starting with “I’m going to bust that asshole’s sac.”

She giggled and patted his cheek. “Stay out of trouble. I’m heading home tomorrow. I’ll water the plants.”

We have plants? He grinned at her and cuffed her chin lightly with his fist. Swallowing was a bit hard. This wasn’t fair. “Don’t leave your panties all over my floor. And do some laundry. Only fair that you clean up since you’ve been borrowing my shirts to sleep in.”

“I can’t help it! I love smelling your cologne as I drift off.”

“Aww.” All the uninvited leeches had taken off. They had to put on a show for the ones here to make them look good. He could do that. “Leave me something of yours that smells like that spicy perfume you wore that time . . .”

Sahara opened her suitcase and fetched a tiny T-shirt and squirted some perfume on it before handing it over. The feigned moment they had was spoiled by the way her face crumpled when she saw Akira. “Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to leave you like this.”

Akira braved a smile, glancing back at Dominik, who stood close enough to offer support, but not close enough for the reporters to make anything of it. “I’ll be okay. Take care of you, got it?”

“I will.” Sahara squared her shoulders, then moved into Scott, hugging him tight. She spoke low, her lips close to his ear. “You’re doing good. People are impressed. Don’t screw it up.”

“I won’t.” He let her go, happy to see that Zach was lingering at the edges of the crowd, watching him in that way he did, like he knew Scott would trip up and needed his presence to resist the urge to let it all out.

“Are you upset that she’s leaving?” One of their reporters asked quietly. One that couldn’t be ignored.

“I am. But we both understand the rules,” Scott said, hoping they’d leave it at that.

Of course, they didn’t. “Do you agree that Sahara asked for the treatment she had from Grant Higgins, as was implied?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? What kind of idiot would ask a question like that?” He bared his teeth as he felt a tug from behind.

Carter, shaking his head and saying something like “Don’t.” Don’t what? Make these assholes see that they were making it okay for a woman to be abused because she might be into something different? When was it ever okay? Why shouldn’t he make that fucking clear?

“I’d like for that comment to be erased from record and for Mr. Demyan to be given a chance to rephrase his answer.” Another suit stepped forward, his voice familiar—Scott was too irritated to do more than give him a scathing look.

Like hell I’ll “rephrase.” Fuck them all.

But . . . when had Ford gotten there? He acknowledged the man with a nod, wincing as he registered the shock on Akira’s face. Mason lunged forward, catching Akira before she could spit whatever harsh words came to her at the sight of Ford in front of the cameras.

“I’m afraid we can’t do that.” The reporter turned away from Ford, stiffening as Ford stepped up to his side, speaking low. He paled, then nodded, returning to shove his microphone in Scott’s face. “You were saying?”

The sound of his breath hissing through his teeth was enhanced by the mike. He met Zach’s eyes, caught his short nod of encouragement. And knew what he had to do. Licking his lips, he let his hands fall to his sides, doing his best to take the aggression out of his stance. “When I was a kid, one of my foster sisters was abused by her boyfriend. No matter how bad he hurt her, she always went back to him. Defended him.” He held his breath until the sharp stab of regret in his chest dwindled to a dull ache. Shook his head. “She thought she asked for it, but she was wrong. I guess I learned at a young age how wrong it was—and I also learned how easy it could be to think you deserved whatever you got. The way I see it, Sahara found the strength to get out. She realized she deserved to be treated with respect, and she’s a good example for all the women out there who still don’t believe they deserve the same.”

“Are you saying Sahara isn’t into ‘kink’?”

Scott snorted, cocking his head slightly as he looked the rat-faced little man over. “I think you need to educate yourself about what ‘kink’ consists of. And I’m not about to discuss Sahara’s sex life. Past or present. It’s not relevant.”

“But—”

“That’s enough for now,” Ford said, drawing the attention away from Scott. His dark blue suit gave him a professional air, and even though he didn’t have any real power, the media hounds hadn’t forgotten how well-connected he was as a member of the Delgado family. “My sister’s vision for this show didn’t include a lecture on BDSM—but I doubt she’d have a problem with some provocative interviews with the girls.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his inner suit pocket, one dark brow lifting as he flicked it open. “Actually, I have a question for the lot of you. Did you plagiarize these questions from Penthouse magazine? They look familiar.”

The reporters laughed and trailed after Ford to where the Ice Girls were playing in the pool again. Footage for the stupid show was gonna be repetitive. Did they really need to be stuck on the ship for a week for a four-hour special? The fans were gonna be bored out of their minds.

“You did good, Scott.” Coach Tim came up from behind Scott, squeezing his shoulder and grinning as Zach joined them. “Might want to take some tips from this man, though. I think the press has given up on him with his short, emotionless replies to every single question.”

“I hear you. The guys are starting to call him ‘The Droid.’” Scott smirked at Zach’s surprised look. “Sorry, pal—hard to tell if you’re human sometimes.”

“Really?” Zach rested his shoulder against the wall, his gaze going over Scott slowly. “Did you come up with that?”

It was hard to tell if Zach was insulted or just . . . looking to prove otherwise. Scott cleared his throat as the crotch to his jeans tightened around his swelling dick. He was more than willing to let Zach show him how hot-blooded he really was. “Carter came up with it—before you helped him out though.” He scratched his jaw as Carter stopped short right behind Tim. “It was a joke.”

“Don’t take it wrong, man.” Carter combed his messy blond hair away from his brow with his fingers, talking fast. “It’s like . . . like a compliment, you know? When the cameras are on you, when you’re on the ice—nothing shakes you. I wish I could be like that.”

“I’m not taking it personally, Carter. Don’t worry.” Zach held up a finger as his phone buzzed and pulled it out. His tone gentled as he answered, and Scott heard him say “Becky” before he moved out of hearing.

Carter hooked his thumbs to the belt loops of his shorts, rocking his bare feet on the gleaming wood deck. “He serious? He ain’t mad?”

“He ain’t mad.” Scott laughed and ruffled Carter’s hair. “Kid, that man is as straightforward as they come. He’s cold and hard when he needs to be, but then . . .” The edges of his lips tipped upward. Zach had mellowed out a lot since he’d gotten with Becky. She brought out the best in the man. And he had a feeling Zach did the same for her. Her sharp little barbs didn’t come quite as fast when she talked to Scott, and, unless he was wrong, she was kinda warming to him. The only problem was they never really hung out or talked without Zach around. He was getting plenty of opportunities to get closer to Zach, but none with her.

Maybe it was about time he changed that.

* * * *

“What are you wearing?”

Zach laughed, finding his way to his room for some privacy since Becky seemed to be in a teasing mood. “Swim trunks. You’ll be going through a lot of poolside footage from the cruise.”

“Mmm, I know. Some of the photos have made it to the fan site.” She purred provocatively into the phone. “You look good, Sir.”

“Have you been enjoying yourself at night, thinking about me?”

She paused, and he could hear the composure fade from her tone as she replied. “Yes . . . I swear, I bit through my pillow last night to keep from screaming. I’m not sure how thick these walls are.”

“What were you doing to yourself, pet?”

A little moan escaped her. “I guess you want details?”

“Naturally.” He let out a throaty chuckle, recalling the way she shivered in response to it the last time they were together, hoping it would give her the same reaction now. “Your body, your pleasure, belongs to me. I must know how you’re handling it when I’m not around.”

“Oh, must you?” Her tone turned cheeky. He could almost see the mischievous glint in her eyes as she tested the limits he couldn’t enforce over the phone. “What if I don’t feel like sharing?”

This playful, naughty side of her did something to him, something he couldn’t quite describe. As much as he loved the purity of her submission during a scene, he enjoyed a little push and pull. He didn’t need her trying to be the perfect sub all the time. He needed all of her, before, during, and after, shining through her surrender.

“I believe you need a firm hand to remind you how to behave,” he said, voice stern, but not to the point that she’d think he was angry. “Since I can’t do much from here, how about we agree that you save your orgasms for when I get back.”

“What?” She let out an aggravated sound. “That’s not fair. Why can you—”

“I won’t be, Becky.”

“You’re going to tell me Scott can’t get you off?”

“When I’ll allow nothing more than a kiss?” He smirked. “I haven’t been that easy since I was a teenager, love.”

“Ugh, but I told you to fuck him and—” She stopped herself before he had to, likely knowing she’d gone too far. “I mean—”

He let out a heavy sigh. “Enough. I think I’ve made it clear that I don’t want that kind of relationship. With you or with him. It’ll be hard for him to see sex as anything but a release—I’m not sure why, but—”

“Maybe that’s because, sometimes, that’s all it is.” All the fun, all the playfulness, had gone out of her voice. She’d become all business, become a woman he couldn’t deal with as a sub, erecting cement walls between them. “You fucked him once, no strings attached. Why can’t you just do that again?”

“Because he needs more.”

“I think you’re wrong.” She hesitated, then barreled on as though to make sure she had a chance to get it all out. “I hope you’re not, but I can’t help feeling it will be so much worse if you’re looking for something serious from him. Can’t we all just enjoy each other? Let the cards fall where they will?”

“Do you mean Scott, or do you mean you and I?” He could be wrong, but it seemed like she was pulling away from him. Which was why he hadn’t wanted to touch this thing with Scott in the first place.

But she was as insistent as ever. “No! I love you. I’m not afraid to lose you to him anymore.”

“Good. Because you won’t.”

“I know that.” She made an unhappy sound. “I’m sorry I ruined things, Sir. It would have been more pleasant to talk about how I used my rabbit, pretending it was your nice big cock as I came again and again and—”

He barked out a laugh. “You are a cruel, cruel woman, Becky.” He lowered his voice, adjusting his shorts, taking a few deep breaths to regain control. “The restrictions stand. You will wait for me.”

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that, Sir,” she said sweetly, continuing before he could speak. “Unless I know you’re getting what you need.”

“A disobedient sub is not on the list of what I need.” In only two days, he would be with her again. His lips twitched as he came up with a way to make the restrictions just a bit harder. His mouthy sub would benefit from the challenge. “Do you have Ben Wa balls?”

“No . . .” Becky sounded embarrassed. She obviously knew what they were. “Why would I?”

“Their handy for strengthening the muscles you use to pleasure me,” he said smoothly. “Go buy some. I want them inside you for a few hours every day. When I come back, the first time I fuck you, they will be inside you.”

“While you—”

“Yes.” His tone deepened as he imagined pushing into her, feeling the balls shift, stimulating them both. “Can you have someone watch Casey? I want a few hours where I have complete access to your body. So I can take you wherever—and however—I please.”

“Oh God.” Becky groaned. “And I’m not allowed to—”

“Nope.”

“You, Sir, are a fucking sadist.”

He laughed. Pouty subs not getting their own way loved to throw that label around, but most wouldn’t know what to do with a real sadist if they had the misfortune to piss one off. “It’s a shame Callahan left. Seeing a few scenes between him and Oriana would show you what a kind, gentle Master I really am.”

“No, thank you. I’ve heard about their scenes.” He could hear the shudder in her tone. “Blood makes me sick.”

“I’ll never make you bleed, pet.” He made his voice calm and soothing. He wanted her worked up. Not afraid. “But I will enjoy making you squirm.”

“Mission accomplished.”

She asked a few more questions about the Ben Wa balls before they hung up, sounding a bit more eager to go shopping for them, joking about getting a few different sizes. She had to test them out to find the ones that “fit just right.” She gave him details about how she wouldn’t even need lube to slip them into her body.

Vengeful, pet. Well played.

He was satisfied with how their conversation had gone. He truly believed she understood how he would handle Scott. And how he would handle his relationship with her. For the first time, he could see how it would all balance out. It would take some work, but in the end they would all have what they needed.

They were finally on the same page.

* * * *

Insistent buzzing came from Scott’s gym bag, laying on the floor next to the weight bench. He could only think of two people who’d be calling him now. Stephan, to bitch about the interview, or Becky, whom he’d texted to get back to him when she wasn’t busy. He didn’t want to take her away from her daughter.

“Grab that for me, will you?” He grunted, heaving the bar up to the stand, glancing back at Carter who was spotting him.

Carter nodded and bent to fetch Scott’s phone. He answered, wandering off with a smirk as Scott dried his hands on his shorts. “Hey, Becky! How you doing, sexy lady?”

“Give me the fucking phone, asshole.” Scott lunged at Carter, cursing again as the punk evaded him. “Come on! I’m not playing!”

“He’s in a mood. You sure you don’t want to talk to me instead?” Carter went still, licking his bottom lip and smiling softly. “She did? Damn, I would have loved to see that. Jami would make a great mother—I mean, not for a long time, but I know my mom would love it!” He laughed. “Yeah, don’t tell Dean I said that. I’ll end up playing for the Jets if he even thinks I’m gonna knock up his baby girl. Have to put a ring on her finger first . . . yeah, me and Seb have talked about it. Since my mom’s doing better, we’ll probably wait at least another year, but we both want it. Seb? Oh, he’s fine owning us both. The papers won’t change that.” He blushed. “As long as we’re both wearing his collar, he’s happy.”

Scott stopped reaching for his phone, a smile tugging at his lips as he listened to Carter spilling to Becky. The kid probably needed to talk to someone. Scott should have let him know he’d listen. Good to see the boy was happy, though.

“Fuck no. Once he puts his collar on me, it ain’t comin’ off for nothing. What happened with Mason and Oriana was fucking sad, but they ain’t us. I’d rather be destroyed in the seventh game of the Cup finals than lose either of them. Yes, it’s that serious.” He cleared his throat. “Damn, Becky. Now I need to talk to Seb. Fuck, I can’t wait to go home. I wish I’d stayed there.” He grinned. “Sure, here you go. Give my goddaughter a kiss for me.”

Taking the phone, Scott slapped Carter’s shoulder, then moved over to the stationary bikes. “Hey, babe.”

“Hey. I got your text—is everything all right?”

Her voice, something about her concern being aimed at him, had the ground dropping about a foot under his feet. She was probably just being nice, but maybe . . . maybe it was finally happening. Maybe she really cared.

“Everything’s fine. Kinda wanted to talk to you.”

“Kinda?” She let out a sweet, warm laugh that set fire to his blood. Fuck, he wanted to hold her, to tell her—but she continued. “More like testing the waters. I saw your interview and you’re not in trouble. Keane and I spoke about it earlier and agreed to air it. We’d wanted to keep the whole fight between Sahara and Amy off the show, but we might be able to cut out the ugly stuff and keep the drama.”

“That’s good, I guess . . .” Scott frowned. “So this means Amy won’t be exposed as the heartless cunt she is?”

“Jesus, Scott. Please don’t use that word. You’re better than that.” She lowered her voice. “And I mean that. When I heard what you said about your foster sister . . . poor girl. Did she get help?”

“Yes. Eventually.” Sort of. She’d gotten out of the relationship anyway. Last he’d heard, she’d been working in a strip club. That was years ago. Who knew what she was doing now? He’d lost touch with her in his early teens. His brother had given him updates until she disappeared off the grid. She was just one of the many he’d failed in his pathetic life. But Becky didn’t need to hear all that. “Sahara’s not in trouble though, right? You guys get why—”

“We do. Don’t worry about her. As soon as she gets back, I’ll be working with her on the rest of the program for the Ice Girls’ final competition. She’ll be taken care of.” She paused. “What about you?”

His brow furrowed. “What about me?”

“Are you being ‘taken care of’?” Her tone took on a slight edge. Almost like she was nervous bringing it up. “I’m sure you know Zach and I talked?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t change much. I still need to show how much I’ve—”

“He doesn’t need another sub, Scott.”

“I know that.”

“Do you? Because you’re certainly acting like one. I saw a picture of you with him by the pool—thankfully it didn’t go farther than my desk. The way you were looking at him . . .” She went quiet, and he heard her inhaling slowly. Then let the air out in a laugh. “With how strong you came on before, your being timid surprised me. You have the opportunity to . . .”

Fuck. She sounded like he’d let her down. Which was freakin’ weird. Was she really that anxious for him to fuck her boyfriend? “Zach ain’t into flings, Becky. You should know that better than anyone. I thought that’s why you chose him over me.”

“That’s true. But I’ll tell you the same thing I told him. It doesn’t always have to be serious. I’ve been thinking about it a lot and . . . and not everything has to be a full-course meal. I think Zach needs a bit of a snack.”

Scott pressed his lips together, inhaling slowly. Right. Well, that made sense. Zach liked dick and pussy. Why wouldn’t his sub want him to have access to both while ensuring that she was the one he woke up with in the morning?

Better than nothing, I guess.

But . . . “What about you? You want a snack too?”

“This is about Zach.” Her voice sounded small, and her next words made it clear why. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Whatever happens while you’re on the cruise is between the two of you. I guess part of me thought you were calling for more than an update on Sahara. That maybe you needed to hear from me that it’s really okay.”

“Yeah, that’s clear. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?”

“Not everything’s got to be a full-course meal. That goes for you too, doesn’t it?” Hell, if she wanted to play this way, he wasn’t about to let her back off now. “Enough about him. You’re talking to me. You want a snack, babe? I’ll be fucking cookie dough ice cream, chips, pretzels—all your favorite junk food. I’ll be your naughty indulgence. I’ll be anything you want me to be.”

“Damn it, Scott. Yes, it’s tempting. And I might eventually . . .” She groaned. “It doesn’t matter. Be that for him. He needs to stop trying to make this into something it will never be.”

“You let me worry about him. All I want you thinking about is what I’m gonna do to you.” His smile was feral, and he turned his back on Carter when he caught the boy watching him. “I’m gonna rock you’re fucking world, beautiful. Every woman needs that at least one in their lifetime, right?”

For a really long time, she didn’t answer. He wondered if he’d gone too far. He’d never really classed Becky as one of those women who just wanted a wild ride from him. His own goddamn stupidity. That’s all they ever wanted. No matter how good or sweet they were, they saw right through him, saw all the things they shouldn’t want, but did. And they knew he could give it to them.

He’d wanted more with Becky, but at least this was something. Something he could hold on to long after she’d forgotten all about him.

“At least once,” she said quietly. She exhaled. “You’re doing well, with your image, the interviews, everything. Really well. I need you to know that I’m impressed.”

“I try.” He made small talk, letting her go with a curt promise not let the cameras catch any more pathetic, submissive looks from him. He remembered that moment, how he’d felt looking up at Zach. Maybe a bit like surrendering, like getting on his knees, swearing to do anything, to be anything Zach wanted him to be. Which was nothing more than a good man when it came down to it.

What a fucking joke. It’s all an act. He dropped his phone in his bag, shaking his head when Carter asked him if he wanted to grab a bite to eat. His stomach was in knots. But that didn’t change a thing. I’ve eventually got to stop pretending to be something I’m not.