Iron Cross: The Dartmouth Cobras #6 (12 page)

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

The grip on his nutsack loosened up and he inhaled deep
ly. 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 f
arther 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.”

L
aura refused to look at the grim pictures in the digital folder as she finished typing in the details for last night’s arrest. She didn’t need to. The images were burned into the back of her skull, along with many others, still faces and cold bodies, old and so very young. Her hand shook as she moved to push herself away from Detective Ryan Hamilton’s desk. She saw him approaching from the other side of the detective division’s bullpen, but wasn’t worried about him being upset about her making herself comfortable in his space. He’d be taking over the case, which made handing it over that much easier. No cutting corners, and he’d make sure the charges stuck. For the poor little girl.

And for Laura.

Ryan was a good man, the only brother she’d ever had since his parents had fostered her for five years. She’d gone from being an unwanted only child to becoming the only daughter in a law enforcement family. Her foster father had retired before she’d joined them, but her foster mother still worked as a police psychologist. Fredrick Hamilton had been an awesome “Mr. Mom,” while Debra Hamilton was her idol. Laura hadn’t had the grades to go into psychology, but she was happy to be a regular officer. She’d leave the suits and the deskwork to her foster brother.

Propping his hip on the edge of his desk, Ryan grinned at her.
“Don’t you usually do paperwork in your car? Tell me ‘the boy’ didn’t take off with it.” Ryan had made quotation marks in the air at “the boy,” which made some of the detectives leaving late from night shift laugh. The others didn’t know about her relationship with Tyler, just that he was “a friend.” Who drove her a little nuts. Ryan’s eyes hardened when she scowled and turned back to her report. “Talk to me, Tallent.”

She spun in his black swivel chair and stood swiftly, not willing to waste time on the conversation. “Nothing to talk about, Hamilton. The report’s all ready for you.”

“And you’re in a mood.”

“What do you want me to say? It’s all a big joke. Why would a bunch of Cobra fans
who call themselves cops do their damn job and make sure the players are held accountable for their actions?” All right, so much for not wasting time on this. She sighed and cracked her neck to release some of the tension that had gathered in the tight muscles. “Just drop it.”

“Naw
, I don’t think I’ll do that.” Ryan followed her to the coffee nook, nodding when she held up a Styrofoam cup to offer him some amazingly crappy burnt coffee. He took a sip, regarding her curiously over the rim. “Is it the team you want held accountable, or the boy?”

“Don’t call him that.” Laura choked down the coffee black, not sure why it irrita
ted her so much to hear Ryan calling Tyler the same thing she did. She did it without thinking, probably because she heard Chicklet calling him
her
boy all the time. Or just “boy” when she wasn’t happy with him. She sighed again and rubbed her hand over her eyes. “I’m only on my third cup today. And I’m on my period, so—”

“Enough said.”
Ryan held his hands up like she’d just pulled a gun on him. He even backed up a few paces. His grin was back and he let out a soft chuckle. “I almost pity the kid, but just almost. What he did was stupid, but he’s facing team discipline. Let that be enough, Tallent. The team is held to the law, not to a higher or lower standard. The charges were dropped and you’ve seen it happen before. With worse than some rich guy’s car getting a little banged up.”

“Raif Zovko being rich doesn’t lessen the crime.”

“There was no crime.” Ryan squeezed her shoulder, his brow furrowed as he studied her face. She’d known him long enough to expect what came next. He was almost as good at reading people as her Mistress. “You arrested that little girl’s father and her brothers. Was hard to take them out of that house breathing when she wasn’t. We’ve all seen those kinds of bastards walk free after just a few years. Which isn’t justice, and then you feel like justice is never served. Don’t be that kinda cop, Tallent. You start trying to decide how much people should pay, and you’ll be one of those caught on YouTube beating some punk over a dime bag.”

“Oh fuck off, you know I wouldn’t do that.” She gave him a little shove, hoping he was wrong and she wasn’t somehow projecting her frustration over the
little girl’s case onto Tyler. On the off chance he wasn’t, she’d take his advice and let it go. She was good at that. She’d done it with worse situations.

Speaking of which
…

Taking a deep breath, she tossed her empty cup in the trash, then folded her arms over her chest. “What happened to that little girl was horrible. But the youngest brother—he’s only thirteen. I didn’t care at the time, but he was the only one who cried when she was pronounced dead.”

“Baker mentioned that. Actually, he asked me to take it easy on the kid.” Ryan arched a brow. “What do you think?”

“Do what you have to. If he testifies against the father, you’ll have a much stronger case.” And she knew that wasn’t what
Ryan was asking. Maybe she should have more sympathy, but all she kept hearing was the sweet old lady who’d lived next door crying and telling all the officers how cruel the brothers had been to their little sister. The poor old lady was scared to death of the father, but she’d found her courage when she’d heard the screaming. All Laura’s sympathy went to her. And to the little girl.

Not that it matters what I think
.

“Either way, you’ll have a social worker there during questioning.” Laura unfolded her arms and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “You can’t be an asshole. Pretend to be nice.”

Ryan laughed, calling after her as she walked away. “I’ll have you know I am nice, Tallent!”

She didn’t comment, but she smiled as she headed out to her unit.
She couldn’t stay mad for long with her foster brother around. And being on the job made all the nonsense with Tyler irrelevant. No matter how horrible reality was sometimes, she couldn’t see herself doing anything else. The badge, the uniform, had kept her hopeful for her future when she finally stopped getting all depressed about her past.

She’d been raised to be a good housewife
, and coming out as a lesbian had crushed her biological mother’s dreams of grandbabies. She’d known something was “wrong” with Laura before Laura had even figured out she was a lesbian. She’d told Laura’s father all the time “There’s something wrong with your daughter, Brian…” Not that Brian Tallent gave a damn either way. He’d ignored his wife’s constant lectures, the spiteful words every time Laura dared leave the house in jeans—

The woman had
never lifted a hand to Laura, but she’d spent years making her daughter feel worthless. Debra Hamilton had spent even more time rebuilding the broken girl Laura had once been. But Ryan was the one who’d been there the last time Laura had let her past trip her up. Prom night and Fredrick Hamilton had stood at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes tearing as she descended, the look of pride more than enough to replace the one she’d always hoped for from the father who’d never bothered with her. Ryan came into the house just then, in uniform, grinning like an idiot and holding two corsages in clear plastic boxes.

“Where’s your date? I got her one too because I knew you wouldn’t.”

Laura stopped at the bottom of the steps, sure her cheeks were the same shade as her dress. “I didn’t ask her. I was hoping she’d ask me, but I’m not sure she knows I’m—”

“Damn, there goes my plan to get a picture with two hot chicks.” He winked and moved closer to pin the delicate
corsage of baby’s breath to the silk strap of her dress. “Would it be weird if we took a picture together anyway? You look real nice.”

“Thank you, Ryan.” She was going to cry and ruin her makeup. Her brother was such a sweetheart. She wished she
had
asked Stacey to prom, if only to share this moment with her. Only, if she’d asked Stacey and they went together, people would know Laura was a lesbian. Because everyone knew Stacey hated men. But no one could hate Ryan. She hooked her arm to her brother’s. “It wouldn’t be weird at all. I want to remember this, and you look pretty nice yourself.”

“Why don’t you go to prom with your sister?”
Fredrick asked after taking a few pictures. “That way she won’t have to be alone.”

Ryan gave her a one
-armed hug and kissed her forehead. “She won’t be alone. Soon as she gets there, she’s gonna ask that girl to dance.” His tone went all protective big brother-like. “But you better tell her she can’t keep you out too late. And I expect to meet her because she gets the third degree—I don’t care that she’s a chick.”

Stacey had been her first love, but Chicklet was the only one who’d gotten Ryan’s approval. The two had always gotten along well, even though Ryan sometimes grumbled about their
“open relationship.” He was only starting to accept how a poly relationship could be genuine. His habit of dating badge bunnies who fucked his “brothers”—other officers—made him wary whenever he spotted Chicklet with a man even in a nonsexual setting. Laura had only told him because he’d been suspicious of Sloan Callahan for the longest time, and she’d had to explain that Sloan and Chicklet were only friends. But Tyler was more.

R
yan only knew enough for him to assure her he didn’t want to know more. He was nice to Tyler when he came over for supper. He kept his mouth shut when he stopped by the bar and saw Chicklet toying with a male Dom or sub for a future scene.

But somehow, he never missed Laura being out of sorts because of something Tyler had done. He got the dynamics of their unconventional household. Maybe even better than she did. Just a glance f
rom him told her she was acting grumpy because Tyler had been around for weeks during the summer. A smirk when she was in a good mood because Tyler was on a road trip.

And that was usually enough for Laura to stop and take a long look in the mirror. Chicklet loved Tyler. It was a fact
, and Laura wanted Chicklet to be happy. Tyler wasn’t so bad. He could be thoughtful, like this morning, and hopefully he’d eventually grow up.

Maybe? Someday?

She groaned as she cruised down the road in her car, watching the streets as she headed to her first call. A simple eviction—she just had to make sure the tenants left with their stuff and didn’t damage the apartment. Nothing to get the morning with Tyler out of her head. Damn it, she almost felt guilty for being mad at him. Once the moving truck was gone and she was free to head out again, she wondered if she should call the boy and tell him all was forgiven. She slid into her seat and noticed her phone flashing on the passenger’s seat. A few texts from Tyler.

Tyler: Hey, is there any way you could meet me for lunch?

Tyler: It’s cool if you say no.

Tyler: I know you don’t have much time to eat…
I could bring something. I’m really sorry. I was stupid and I hope no one bugged you about me. My agent gave me shit and he agrees with you. He thinks being in jail would teach me a lesson.

Tyler: O
K, I’m gonna stop bugging you. Text me if you want. When you’re not busy.

Shaking her head, Laura sat back in the driver’s seat, still parked, and thought about how Chicklet would want her to reply. And came up blank. Chicklet refused to get involved in her relationship with Tyler. She liked for them to get along, but she wouldn’t force the issue unless things were unpleasant at home. Which wasn’t often. They both knew their roles and were happy with them.

If Tyler was her friend, she’d accept his apology. And maybe letting him into that role would make things easier. Two years of tolerating him as a roommate and the man in her Mistress’s life, but never letting him be anything more, was exhausting. Chicklet was happy when they were on good terms. Maybe this was the first step in making that happen more often.

She took a deep breath and turned her phone sideways to type.

Me: Lunch would be great. Not sure when I’ll have time, but I should be able to stop at my regular Tim Horton’s around noon. Meet me there and order me a panini. And one of those honey cruller donuts.

A few seconds later, Tyler replied.

Tyler: You got it! Thank you!

A few routine traffic stops and a robbery false alarm later and Laura pulled into the Tim Horton’s between home and the Forum. She’d texted Tyler
again only minutes before, so he was still standing by the cash register, waiting for their order. He gave her a hesitant smile when she patted his shoulder before heading to a table.

There was a wistfulness to his smile that
tugged at her heart. She blamed that on giving him the opening to be a friend. A friend she sometimes let fuck her because his dick was one of the many toys in her Mistress’s arsenal, but she would look past that. He was what Chicklet wanted, but he was a person, not a funky vase Chicklet had picked up at a garage sale that Laura had to pretend to like.

Two years was a long time to treat another human being like a temporary fixture. He didn’t seem to be going anywhere
, and maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. She did have good memories with him. Her smile was genuine as he came to the table with a tray. She recalled something that made her laugh.

He cocked his head as he sat across from her. “Umm
…you’re happy?”