Goal Line (The Dartmouth Cobras Book 7) (29 page)

“Today was bad.” She snuggled up against his side, relaxing when he eased her head onto his shoulder. “I’m so happy you don’t hate me.”

Why would I ever hate you?
His jaw tightened as he considered what she might have done that she’d feel guilty about. Maybe she was still interested in Pischlar? That would be hard to swallow, but it wouldn’t make Dominik hate her.

I won’t share.

Running his hand absently over her hair, he pushed the baseless fears aside. Nothing she’d said or done lately gave any indication that she wanted anything other than a monogamous relationship with him. Her time with Pischlar and White had been mostly to bring the two men closer.

If he really considered how her day had gone, she was probably reacting to how someone who should love her unconditionally had treated her. Maybe she believed her mother hated her.

More likely, her mother simply believed she was looking out for her daughter. In a way that did more harm than good.

In the end, Dominik couldn’t worry about Pischlar. He couldn’t erase the hurtful things her mother had said or done.

But he could make sure she never doubted his place in her life. So he pressed his lips to her hair. “I couldn’t hate you, my sunshine.” He breathed in the sweetness of her, fresh like a sun-kissed meadow at dawn. Then he whispered, “But I’m most definitely falling for you.”

Sahara was never sure what woke her so early in the morning. The only time she’d ever really slept in was when she used to let go and drink too much just to numb the pain. Strangely enough, that had happened more often once she’d been free of Grant than when she was still with him.

Or maybe it wasn’t so strange. While she’d been with him, she’d been in a constant state of anxiety. She woke each day and prepared herself to speak carefully, to smile prettily, and to avoid doing anything that might upset him.

People talked about abuse, and it was so easy to sympathize while not being part of the frightening scenario. Even when she was. Of all the things she remembered of their relationship, the first time he’d hit her stuck out the most.

She’d just walked in the door after visiting her parents. A guy she’d had a crush on when she was very young had complimented her dress. Her father had playfully threatened his teammate and nothing had come of it. They all knew she was with Grant.

When Grant asked her how her day was after practice, she’d laughed and told him the story.

His eyes narrowed. “Were you trying to get his attention? Your dad is a good man, but I’m surprised he didn’t say anything about what you’re wearing.”

She looked down at the yellow sundress Grant had always loved. “I was looking forward to seeing you tonight. I wore your favorite dress.”

“For another man.”

Laughing, she shook her head. “No, I’m so over him. He’s just a few years younger than my dad. I just didn’t feel like getting changed.”

“Why? Aren’t I worth the effort?” He came closer, staring at her, a strange look in his eyes. “You’re with me. Why would you go anywhere without me looking like that?”

She rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Damn, I didn’t know it was a big deal. Relax.”

“Relax?” The back of his hand hit her cheek. Her shock kept her silent, even as she stared at him. “You know I love you! Why are you playing games! Fuck!” He backed away from her, showing more pain than she felt, even as her cheek throbbed. “I love you so much. Stay away from me. I can’t believe I just did that.”

Covering her cheek with her hand, she walked away from him. Locking herself in the bathroom, she leaned against the door and tried her best to figure out what had just happened.

Then she heard the broken sound of Grant’s sobs. He never cried, and hearing him falling apart broke through the anger and bruised pride in her that wouldn’t tolerate what he’d done. He hadn’t hit her that hard. He regretted lashing out; he’d even told her to leave.

But she loved him, so she’d stay and they’d work through this. He’d made a mistake.

And so had she.

The sex had been great that night. He’d been so attentive and she’d truly believed he’d never hurt her again. Only, he never did change. She’d only gotten better at making excuses for him. For so long that it had become normal.

She shivered and went over to the window to close it, but the slight breeze was unseasonably warm. The chill was from her memories, and this morning they seemed more determined than ever to drag her into the past.

Her therapist had often reminded her to focus on her breathing when this happened. She’d recommended yoga, but she fully approved of the self-defense courses. Anything that made Sahara feel in control. That reminded her she wasn’t stuck in that horrible cycle of abuse anymore.

The control thing might be difficult, considering how much Sahara needed Dominik to take charge, but she wasn’t waking him up because she was dealing with her damn issues. Not that he’d mind if she did, but no matter how often he assured her he accepted her, flaws and all, she couldn’t just accept herself this way. She wanted to be stronger. To feel like she was actually making progress.

Flashbacks could ruin a whole day, but she refused to let herself sink into the same old hopeless pit. She changed into a pair of gray jogging pants and a white tank top and did some stretches in the sitting room, sensing some of the shadows within retreat with each satisfying tug in her muscles. About fifty jumping jacks got her blood pumping, and she moved smoothly into the routine one of her trainers had taught her. A mix of self-defense and jujitsu, which she’d planned to take regularly but had to put off until the hockey season was over. The idea of being able to take down an armed opponent appealed to her.

Not so much because she thought she could beat someone holding a gun to her head, but if you could block a knife, blocking a fist didn’t seem so hard. Strength and size weren’t the deciding factors.

One precise movement after another, Sahara let the focus on her body smother the unease in her mind. The routine was almost like a choreographed dance, only she could see every attack and counterattack. She moved faster, letting out a rough sound with each kick and punch. Sweat beaded at her temples and ran between her breasts, and she smiled as she saw the faceless assailant in her head go down for good.

There wasn’t so much as a breath of warning or a scuff on the carpet, but Sahara sensed Dominik watching her. Her cheeks heated as she glanced over at him. “Ah…I hope I didn’t wake you up? I was trying to be quiet.”

His lips curved into a soft smile as he approached. “You were, but I’ve gotten spoiled by having you sleep beside me. I thought you might have gone to get breakfast again—”

“I could if you’re hungry. I was thinking of bringing you to the bakery if you’ve got time.”

“I’d love to, but—”

“It’s not far. And they have more than chocolate.” She used the front of her shirt to dry some of the sweat from her face, hating that he was seeing her all gross after watching her kick some imaginary ass. “Do you mind if I get changed first?”

He shook his head and folded his arms over his chest. “Stop interrupting me. I was going to ask about the workout. Is that the self-defense you were learning with Scott and the girls?”

“Some of it.”

“Are you self-conscious that I saw you?”

She wrinkled her nose. Then nodded. “I haven’t done the routine in a while, but it relaxes me. I should have waited until I got home.”

Dominik arched a brow at her. “Why?”

“Why?” She blinked, not sure what he was asking. Why did it relax her, or why wait until she got home? Nibbling on the side of her lip, she shrugged. “To avoid embarrassment?”

Letting out a light laugh, Dominik took her by the wrist and pulled her against him, his kiss like a sweet reward for her honesty. “We’ll have to work on that. If it relaxes you, maybe you should do it more often. You still take courses regularly, yes?”

“Semiregularly?” She tried to remember the last time she’d actually gone to the community center where Scott volunteered once a week. Scott had called her last month to ask her why she hadn’t been around. And she hadn’t been back since.

Her only excuse was the Ice Girls had been working hard on the pregame shows, but Scott was in the starting lineup on a team in the playoffs and she couldn’t remember him ever missing a class.

Nodding, Dominik tipped her chin up with a finger. “Consider this my first nonsexual command as your Master. You will continue the classes. If they aren’t challenging enough, choose another form of self-defense to expand on.”

Or what?
A petulant little voice in her head asked. She couldn’t completely ignore the side of her that demanded independence, but the stronger part of her, the side that craved his control, prevailed.

She inhaled slowly, sweet anticipation sizzling in her veins. “So my submission will go beyond the bedroom?”

“Yes, unless you object?” Dominik smiled when she shook her head. “Good. Now try some of those moves on me. They’re more than punches and kicks. That spin and elbow to the floor was interesting.”

Her very favorite move, one she still couldn’t believe actually worked. Nothing compared to the elation she’d experienced when she’d executed it successfully for the first time. Her instructor had even put her in front of the class a few times to demonstrate.

Why the hell did I stop going?

She grinned at Dominik. “It’s a takedown, but I’ve only ever done it on a mat. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

His brows shot up. “Hurt me? Sunshine, I’m sure you’re very good, but look at me.”

“I am. Learning self-defense against small, weak men would have been pointless, don’t you think?”

“True, but I’m not concerned that you’ll hurt me.” The edge of his lip twitched into a challenging smirk. “Show me what you’ve got.”

She squared her shoulders, not sure if he was teasing her or pushing her to prove herself. Either way, he was about to get exactly what he’d asked for. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He bared his teeth in a broad smile, turning to pick up the coffee table and move it to the other side of the room. Returning, he took an attack pose, knees bent slightly, hands up as though prepared to block a punch.

Naked except for his boxers, Dominik’s majestic form was bared before her in a way that was both alluring and intimidating. All those bulging muscles, the smooth brown flesh of his wide chest and thick legs, he was a powerful man who could—and had—simply throw her over his shoulder and have his way with her. Which wasn’t a problem.

But the reason she felt so comfortable with him was because she knew that strength would never be used against her. If she actually had to use her moves to fight him off, one of them would end up in serious pain.

Probably her, but she wouldn’t go down easy. If he underestimated her, she’d have a fighting chance.

This wasn’t about being able to fight him though. She was confident in her ability to defend herself. She needed him to be as well.

“I’m not attacking you, you’re attacking me.” Not bothering to take a stance, she motioned him forward. “Don’t give me a warning. Come at me like you imagine someone who wanted to grab me would.”

Dominik’s smile faded. His jaw ticked, but he gave her a firm nod.

Then he lunged, reaching for her.

She latched on to his wrist, turned into him, and used his own momentum to flip him over her hip. His back hit the ground and he let out a grunt. She drove her elbow down, letting out a shout of triumph.

But the satisfaction vanished when Dominik jerked away with a wince. Her elbow had connected with his mouth. And his bottom lip was bleeding.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! One sec, I’ll get something.” She jumped to her feet, ran to the bathroom, and grabbed the box of Kleenex. She ripped out a handful as she rushed back.

Sitting up, Dominik gave her a crooked grin as she knelt beside him and gently pressed the tissue to the small split. “It’s not that bad. But I stand corrected. My girl is damn tough.”

“I didn’t mean to actually hit you.” She’d
never
hit anyone this hard during her courses. Yes, she’d warned him that he could get hurt, but she’d been concerned about him falling hard on the thin carpet. She chewed her bottom lip, moving the tissue a little, relieved to see at least the bleeding had stopped.

“Sahara, I’m impressed. And, more importantly, you weren’t trapped in fear or sadness or letting anything hold you down. You’re strong, and this is one of the first times I haven’t seen you doubt that.” He took her hand, prying open her fingers to take the red spotted tissue. “I’m willing to spill a bit of blood if it means you’ll see the woman I do every single day.”

Fuck, I love this man.
Sahara leaned closer to him, staring into his eyes as she pressed her hand to his cheek. She wasn’t ready to tell him yet, but the emotion spread like a straight shot of strong spirits once the burn passed and all that remained was the warmth circulating through her veins. Her skin felt like it was glowing and she needed to touch him. To kiss him. To let her body tell him what words couldn’t even express.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up to straddle his thighs. “You won, fair and square. Name your prize.”

She didn’t even have to think about what she wanted. But how to tell him? Would he understand that it was the only prize she would ever need?

“Let me surrender to you, Dominik. Like I’m not fragile and full of triggers. I need to be your submissive in every way possible. Even if only for today, I need to feel what it’s like to completely give up control.”

His fingers slid into her hair and he tugged slightly until she met his eyes. His expression was impossible to read, but she had a feeling he was trying to gauge the reasons behind her request. She knew he’d say no if she were asking so she could prove she was as good as Oriana or any of his other past submissives. But she wasn’t sure if he’d say yes even if he saw how desperately she needed to fully offer herself to him.

A sub might kneel for a Dom, but if he didn’t want her at his feet, the act meant nothing.

He inhaled slowly. “You’re not asking to play. You’re asking for something real.”

“Yes.”

He inclined his head. “Then that is exactly what I will give you.”

Bubbly excitement burst in her chest and she pressed her eyes shut, biting her tongue to keep from saying something stupid. The proper reply would be “Thank you, Sir.”

Not difficult, just say it!

“When do we start?” No, that was all wrong! She giggled when he gave her a level look. “Sorry. I mean, thank you. Thank you so much, Sir. I swear you won’t regret this.”