BREAKAWAY (The Dartmouth Cobras) Read online

  BREAKAWAY

  The Dartmouth Cobras

  By

  Bianca Sommerland

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2012, Bianca Sommerland

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Edited by Rosie Moewe

  Cover art by Reese Dante

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.

  Warning

  This ebook contains material not suitable for readers under 18. It also contains scenes that some may find objectionable, including hockey violence, BDSM, ménage sex, bondage, anal sex, sex toys, multiple partners, woman love, and man love including, but not limited to an erotic shower scene. Readers are advised not to attempt reenacting the scene while reading the ebook.

  Dedication

  To all the players who held the fort during the 2012 lockout, spending their time playing charity games. I can't blame anyone for leaving, but I respect those who stayed.

  Acknowledgements

  I thank you in every book, but this time, I need to add a little more. Cherise Sinclair, I was nothing but a fangirl at one point, an aspiring author who looked up to you and respected you so much, who saw you as the perfect example for the kind of writer I wanted to be. And not just by writing characters people would love, but by loving the craft and continuing to grow and thrive no matter where the written road took me. That hasn't changed, but now, I don't just admire you, I consider you a friend and a mentor. You've helped me navigate through road bumps in my career and my personal life. You always push me to find the right words, but there are none that fit for this except I love you and I appreciate you so very much. Keep kicking my ass, darlin'! We both know I need it!

  To Rosie Moewe, damn it, I don't know how you put up with me! You've been with me through every step of this book, you've been a friend, a support system, and so patient while I've gone through my ups and downs. You are so precious to me and I've never known a more giving person in my life. I couldn't have made it through this book without you.

  Missy Vogler, thank you for making me laugh, for listening to my drunken ramblings, for being so honest and giving me a shoulder when I needed one. I'm looking forward to chillin' in our matching Dartmouth Cobra PJs! In you I've made a lifelong friend and I can't wait to see what the future brings.

  To my beta readers, Jennifer Zeffer, Stacey Price, Maria Alvarez, and Genevieve Trahan, I loved hanging out, and throwing around ideas with you about the book! You have all been so essential in making this series successful, and whether you've been with me from the beginning, or came in later, know that I appreciate you so very much.

  Toymaker, thank you for helping me get inside the head of a good, strong Dom, for giving me advice and some wicked ideas to play with. If I ever get a Dom of my own, I want him to be just like you. Loving, understanding, and damn inventive! Lol! Eirocawakening, what can I say other than I love you! In such a short time you've gone from being a great friend, to more of a sister. There's nothing I can't tell you, and I'm looking forward to the days when we can be our weird selves together in a . . . unique setting ;)

  My readers, as always, you have given me all the support and strength I needed to bring you more of the characters who are as real to you as they are to me. All the emails and comments I've gotten from you have done more to keep me going than you will ever know.

  And a special shout out to the Dartmouth Cobras Street Team! You'll all be getting another visit from the guys soon! You've earned it!

  To my family, thanks for waiting for supper, and laundry, and pretty much everything else. Sometimes, all we had was minutes before I had to get back to work, but you made every second count. And in return, I'm bringing you all to Disneyland!

  Just one thing…there's a few more books to write. Rain check, okay? ;)

  Chapter One

  Mid April

  Luke Carter trudged up the steps and dug his keys out of his pocket. Goosebumps rose under his dress shirt and his numb fingers shook as he tried to fit the key in the lock. He had to stop letting his roommates hog his indoor parking spot. And he needed a new spring coat. His shoulders had broadened over the last year and nothing seemed to fit right. A nice thick sweatshirt would’ve kept him warm, but he’d wanted to look good for his girl. He tightened his grip on the bouquet of clunky flowers, pink and white—Stargazer something or another. They smelled real nice anyway.

  Nice enough for her to forgive you?

  He made a face at the stupid flowers and thought back to a chat with his good buddy Landon, the Dartmouth Cobras starting goalie. The man had used books to fix things with the chick he'd been into. And that chick was now his fiancé.

  Teresa ain't into books. But maybe jewellery—or something pretty. He'd forgotten their . . . third month anniversary? Which was apparently a big deal. Not that he could've known. He'd never dated a girl this long.

  Either way, he knew he'd screwed up. All he had was some flowers. That would have to do for now.

  After unlocking the door to the apartment he shared with teammates, Tyler Vanek, and their newest roommate, Scott Demyan—a linemate who'd gotten kicked out of his last two apartments—Luke nudged the door open and stepped inside. Then he blinked and stepped back out.

  He had to be fucking seeing things.

  Moving slowly over the threshold, he shook his head as his stomach turned and clenched his fist hard enough to break the flower stems in half. Teresa gasped and pushed away from where she straddled Demyan on the coach. She crossed an arm over her bare breasts, using her fingers to comb through the tangled mess of her chestnut colored bob as blotchy red covered her cheeks.

  Demyan groaned and leaned forward. "Look, man, it's not what you—"

  "Shut the fuck up." Luke tossed the flowers aside. "Shut the fuck up and be a fucking man, you son-of-a-bitch. You're screwing around with my girlfriend? In my house? You've got brass."

  "Yep." Demyan sighed and stood, rubbing his palms on his black jeans. "That's me. Stupid enough to mess around with your woman right here where you'd catch us. Have at me if you want, might make you feel better. Then maybe you two should have a little chat."

  "A chat? Seriously?" Luke slammed the door behind him. "What's there to talk about? You two enjoy each other. But do it somewhere else. Both of you get the fuck out."

  "Carter, please." Teresa reached one hand out to him, her soft hair sweeping over her big, teary blue eyes. "This is my fault. I just thought—"

  "Thought what? If you wanted a threesome, I might have considered it." He let out a bitter laugh, the ice in his tone seeping through his veins. "But not like this. Damn it, you haven't spoken to me in three days. I asked you to meet me here so we could work things out and—seriously, what the fuck!"

  "If I wanted a threesome? What kind of freak do you think I am?" Teresa scowled and grabbed her shirt from the edge of the big denim sofa. "I thought this would be easier, okay? Maybe it was stupid, but I didn't know what else to do!"

  Luke threw his hands up in the air. "About what? Me forgetting our anniversary? I said I was sorry! I was ready to prove it!"

  "Exactly!" Teresa pulled o n her shirt, then moved towards him, speaking low. "I've been acting like a total bitch to you. I figured you'd get fed up and dump me. But you didn't."

  "Why would you want me to dump you?"

  "Because I didn't have the heart to dump you! Not with everything going on with your mom! But I can't do this anymore! I can't be with a man like you!"

  Everything inside Luke went still. His heartbeat stuttered in his chest. He heard Demyan swallow and saw him look away from the corner of his eye.

  He took a deep breath. "A man like me?"

  "Carter—"

  "Luke." He ground his teeth. "Why don't you ever call me Luke?"

  Her lips moved. Then her jaw set and she shrugged. "Because you're a hockey player. And being with a hockey player was exciting at first, but you're not the type of man a woman wants to spend her life with. I'm going to school in Ottawa this fall and I want to keep my options open. I realized this wouldn't work when I went down for a tour last month. There are so many clean cut guys with normal jobs, guys whose jobs don't make them look like—"

  Demyan stood. "I think he gets the point."

  Holding out his hand, Luke shook his head. "No, let her finish. Guys who don't look like what?"

  "Carter—Luke. I'm sorry. Maybe it sounds shallow, but when people look at you, they see a rough hockey player. Damn it, you don't even have all you teeth and you're only twenty-two! What are you going to look like ten years from now?" She rubbed her hands over her face. "My parents asked to meet you. Can you just imagine what they would think?"

  Luke traced the scar that ran down from his lip to his chin with trembling fingers. He touched his partials—which temporarily replaced two teeth he'd lost—with the tip of his tongue. All this time he'd been worried about her finding out about how he craved dominance, how much he enjoyed using ropes to tie a woman, how hot it got him to use a flogger to turn her ass nice and red. He'd stopped all that for her because she was as vanilla as a person could be, even though it meant the sex wasn't all that great for him. But fuck, he loved her. He would have given up everything except the game for her.

  Even if he had been willing to give that up, it wouldn’t have made a difference. He was damaged. Flawed. He saw it whenever he looked in the mirror. It had been pretty stupid to expect her not to.

  "How long have you stayed because you felt sorry for me?"

  "Luke—"

  "How. Long?"

  She folded her arms over her stomach. "Two months."

  Jesus fucking Christ. He sucked his teeth and nodded. "Get out."

  "I'm so sorry—"

  He reached behind him and threw the door open. "I said get out!"

  Not waiting to see her leave, Luke walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and got himself a beer. He drank half while leaning into the fridge. And sighed when he heard Demyan step up behind him.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t go after her.” The bottle hit Luke’s teeth as he gave Demyan a tight smile. “She’s your type.”

  “That she is. Shallow, selfish, and stupid. An asshole like me doesn’t aim any higher.”

  “You expect me to feel sorry for you?”

  “Fuck no. The stuff I told you while I was fucking plastered wasn’t for pity.” Demyan shrugged, staring at the wall behind Luke. “I just thought you knew me better, that’s all.”

  Damn it, busting up the man’s pretty face would make him feel real good, but he did know him better. And they didn't need this shit messing up the way they gelled on the ice. "She just threw herself at you, didn't she?"

  Demyan reached around him to grab a beer. "Yeah, after sitting beside me and telling me how horrible she felt wanting to break up with you while your mom's sick and all. I kinda patted her back and told her she needed to tell you what she was telling me. Then she heard you pull up and just climbed on top of me and took off her shirt."

  "Fuck me."

  "My words exactly. Hell, with my reputation, I didn't expect you to believe me if I told you I hadn't done anything. And I didn't expect her to come clean."

  Luke's whole body ached worse than when their fucking Captain, Sloan Callahan, put them through their paces the morning after a bad loss. His heart felt like it had fallen victim to a sledgehammer. Why the hell had he gotten all wrapped up in a relationship anyway? They never worked out, his parents were living proof of that.

  "I'm gonna head to the club, I haven't been there in awhile." Luke finished off his beer and stepped back to close the fridge. "You wanna come?"

  "Sure. As long as I don't need to be packing up my shit?"

  "Hey, you know what they say." Luke clinked his empty bottle to Demyan's still half full one. "Bros before hoes."

  "They do say that." Demyan tipped his beer to his lips, not coming up for air until he was finished. Then he belched and laughed. "But they never mean it."

  "Well I do." Luke set his bottle on the counter and headed for the door. "From now fucking on."

  * * * *

  Pink and blue flashing lights. The sweet, slick perfume of sex. Two pairs of naked breasts pressed together as red lips met in a passionate kiss. A stage full of lust for a handful of cash.

  Luke leaned forward and slipped a hundred dollar bill into the curvy blonde's g-string. She glanced down and gave him a sultry smile before bending down to suck on her 'dance' partners nice big nipples, one after the other. His dick jabbed at the inside of his zipper, throbbing with the kind of pain he craved when he needed to feel enough for his brain to shut the fuck up.

  Not enough though. Not yet. He shifted as the women resumed fondling one another.

  And I gave this up for her? His lips curled away from his teeth in a sneer. Good thing he'd come to the club on a night when the ladies were scheduled to put on a show. Something Silver Delgado, the club owner's girlfriend and partial owner of the Dartmouth Cobras, had come up with a few months back to up the club's income. And he’d missed out on all this while trying to be the relationship kind of guy.

  Not because he suddenly wanted to settle down. No, it was for his mom. She'd just found out she had an inoperable brain tumor. Since his dad left them, all they’d had was each other. She was scared that she’d die and he’d be alone. So she’d asked the impossible of him. She desperately needed to live to see him get married, and her doctors said she only had a year or two left. His shock had changed her tone pretty fast, and before he had a chance to say a word she'd whispered 'Can you at least find a girl who you might want to marry, one day?'

  He’d thought he could. He’d thought he had. It hadn't been horrible either. Teresa had been cool to have around when he wasn't on the road. She'd met his mom who absolutely loved her.

  I loved her.

  His stupid brain was going into overdrive. He shook as he pictured her all over Demyan, as he heard her telling him his fucked up face disgusted her—fine, not in exactly those words, but—

  Shut up!

  He smashed the bottle in his hand against the side of the stage. The neck snapped off in his fist, cutting his palm. He drew in air and pain and shoveled the depressing thoughts into the back of his head. Teresa didn’t matter. All that mattered was what his mom, what she expected from him.

  Sitting on the edge of her hospital bed at the end of the All Star break in January, Luke had held her cold hands between his. "I don't have to go, mom. They can bring up someone else to—"

  "They need you. You won't do any good hanging around here while I'm getting tests. I'm not going to stop living and I don't want you to either." She brought her hand up before he could argue. "My sister is coming to stay with me. I'll be fine."

  "Iwon't be able to play good."

  "Lucas Isaiah Carter, you better play good." She laughed when he winced at her use of his full name. Then she touched his cheek and whispered. "Don't dwell on this. Give me a reason to cheer each and every game. I'll be watching you."

  His mom didn't ask him for much and this was something he could do. At first he'd felt guilty, acting all normal w ith her still in the hospital, but every time he called she seemed stronger and finally she got to go home. And the act became real. Hell, people lived longer than doctors said they would all the time. Maybe she'd get better.

  She still wants to see me happily married though.

  Well, she didn't need to know he wasn't with Teresa. Not yet anyway. He could do that much for her, let her live with the illusion that her only child would one day give her grandbabies.

  The heat from the cut on his palm spread and he frowned as blood dripped on his shoe. Then he glared at Demyan who was shaking him, snapping out nonsensical words.

  Fingers raked into Luke's hair and his head was jerked back. A hot minty breath flowed over his face as Chicklet, his mentor at the club, moved in close. "Come with me. Now."

  He didn't even consider arguing with her. Then again, no one argued with Chicklet—not even Dean Richter, the Cobras general manager and owner of the club. She was the kind of Domme that could make even the most dominant man submit to some extent.

  Not that Luke would ever submit to anyone.

  She shoved him onto a leather sofa near the bar and went to the bar for a towel. After wrapping his hand tight, she straightened and put her hands on her hips. "What's up with you? You wanna hurt, you know I'll hurt you." She jutted her chin at his hand. "And I won't fuck up your stick handling when I do it."

  Luke clenched his fist around the towel and shrugged. "It was an accident."

  "Maybe so. But you took your sweet time taking care of it. And you weren't hearing Demyan when he told you your hand was bleeding all over the place." Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. "Where's your head at kid? You completely zoned out."

  "Just broke up with my girlfriend—no big deal." He gave Chicklet his most charming smile, even though he knew it wouldn't work on her. She had two subs—one of them his roommate, Tyler Vanek, and even that angel-faced SOB got the Full Metal Jacket treatment when he pissed Chicklet off. But he had to try. "You wanna know what I was thinking? Tyler's gone for a little while, trying to get his brain fixed." Wiggling his eyebrows, he let his gaze roam over her curvy, leather clad body. "He won't mind if we have some fun while he's gone, will he?"