Iron Cross: The Dartmouth Cobras #6 (24 page)

“You all right? We heard something was going on, but the trainers wouldn’t let us go see.” Tyler frowned, looking Raif over, his expression much too serious. “Your jersey’s all crooked. Someone start with you?”

“Is that concern, Tyler? I promise you, I can take care of myself.” All right, that hadn’t been a kind thing to say, but he couldn’t forget how comfortable Tyler had been with Demyan’s hands all over him. But Tyler didn’t belong to him. And Chicklet clearly didn’t have a problem with it. “We should join the practice. You’ve missed enough time.”

Tyler stepped onto the ice with Raif and stayed close to his side. “You mad at me, man?”

“Why would I be?”

The detached answer apparently wasn’t what Tyler had expected. He gave a short nod and slowed. “No fucking reason, Raif. You’ve been pretty clear about needing shit spelled out for
you
. I don’t, so I’ll get out of your way.”

A sharp spin and Tyler almost knocked the rookie left winger, Braxton Richards, off his skates. The rookie had about three inches and twenty pounds on Tyler, but by the way Hunt stopped and snarled “Watch it, Vanek.” he apparently thought Richards was fragile.

Or he was itching for a fight.

Stay out of it, Zovko.
Locking his jaw, Raif continued in the other direction. Every instinct had him wanting to watch over Tyler, protect him from every harsh word from the trainers, from every hard check. In a way, he understood why Chicklet left the boy to his own devices more often than not. Worrying about Tyler could easily become a full time job.

And likely drive Raif insane.

Practice was exactly as Richter had instructed. Short, ending with instructions to come in a couple of hours before the game for a team meeting. Raif left the ice last, taking his frustration out on the post—unintentionally making them ring over and over again as he snapped the puck at bone-breaking speed toward the net. He gave up on improving his accuracy and headed to the locker room for a shower.

Tyler was just leaving the showers. Naked, using a towel to dry his hair, water droplets glistening on lightly tanned flesh. Tight muscles, a round ass not lost to muscle like some of the other men. This wasn’t the first time Raif had seen the young man naked, but never before had he looked at Tyler as someone he could have.

Sranje!

He needed to put the
boy
out of his thoughts. The distraction of Tyler Vanek was becoming too much to handle. Raif forced himself to look away from the tempting sight.

“Fuck, Tyler. Since when do you walk around naked? Showing off the tan you got on my balcony in Tampa?” Carter bumped into Tyler’s side as he walked next to him, laughing. “Good thing there were no cameras up there, huh?”

U picku materinu!
Raif pressed his eyes shut, willing himself to go into the shower and let some cold water take care of his swelling dick. The idea of Tyler lying naked in the sun spoiled all his intentions to remain detached. And worse, he could feel his blood boiling at the idea of Tyler on a secluded balcony with Carter and Demyan. How close were the friends? Was Ramos as free with his sub as Chicklet?

“
Niño
, I grow tired of the games.” Ramos sounded dangerously calm as he stepped up to Tyler and Carter in front of Tyler’s stall. “And you will not play them here.”

Tyler snorted and dropped his towel on the floor. “Chill the fuck out, Ramos. He’s joking.”

Every single man in the locker room went still, including the doctor who was taping a fresh cut White had on his forehead and the trainer icing Pischlar’s shoulder. Callahan cursed under his breath, shook his head, and disappeared into his office. Carter seemed to suddenly find the black carpet under his bare feet fascinating.

Ramos smiled and braced his hand at the top of Tyler’s stall as he leaned down. “When will Chicklet return, boy?”

Raif felt a grip on his shoulder even as he began to move forward to intercede. He glanced over his shoulder to see Mason grinning at him. Mason spoke quietly, his tone laced with amusement. “Let the kid sweat. He walked right into that one. You do know he’s trying to force your hand, right?”

Is he?
Raif’s eyes narrowed as he watched Tyler pale and stutter that he wasn’t sure when Chicklet would be back. He calmed a little when Ramos simply nodded.

“Please let her know I’d like to speak to her.”

The request was enough to have Tyler nodding quickly, then dressing in silence. The rest of the players did the same, as though they recognized the underlying tension. Raif expected Tyler to hurry out of the locker room, but instead he sat there as the room emptied, staring down at his shiny new black dress shoes. He rubbed his thighs as Raif approached him, not looking up.

The strangest urge to hug the young man, or possibly shake some sense into him, kept Raif from speaking at first. He’d never dealt with a reckless, bratty sub before. But he had a feeling he was partially to blame for Tyler going so far.

“You’re too young to trash your career this way,
zlato moje
. Not all will understand that you’re a sub begging for attention.” Which was not something Raif should acknowledge or encourage in any way, but he couldn’t stop himself from running his fingers through Tyler’s damp curls. From tugging at them to make the boy tip his head back. “Tell me what you want from me. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?”

Tyler closed his eyes. Tried to nod despite Raif’s solid grip on his hair.

“Say it.”

“I can’t.” Tyler’s throat worked as he swallowed hard. “Please don’t make me. It don’t feel right to talk about how much I want…I can’t—
fuck,
why isn’t me showing you enough? You’re not fucking blind!”

“No, I’m not. But tell me why it’s so difficult for you.” Maybe if Raif understood why the words were so difficult for Tyler to get out, he could find a way past it.

Shoulders hunched, arms folded over his chest, Tyler huffed out a breath. “I like that Chicklet sees what I can’t say. When I ask for things, it comes out all wrong. Not even sure I
should
be asking for anything from you because it’s…weird. And even if it wasn’t, I’m not really the one you want, am I?”

“You’re very wrong about that, Tyler. It has been difficult to keep my hands off you.” Raif smiled when Tyler opened his eyes, lips parting slightly. He followed the path of Tyler’s tongue wetting his bottom lip. “Let us meet halfway. I intend to bring you home with me. To use you in any way I please. All you have to say is ‘yes.’”

Breathing in short bursts, as though he’d just done a sprint around the rink, Tyler met Raif’s eyes. Raif could feel Tyler shaking, which almost made him take it back. Tell Tyler he didn’t need to decide now.

Then Tyler whispered something.

Releasing Tyler’s hair, Raif put his hand on the sides of Tyler’s stall and leaned close so he would hear the answer this time. “What?”

“Yes, Raif.” Tyler shook his head, an impish grin spreading across his lips. He cocked his head. “Good enough? Because if I kiss Luke again, or let Scott feel me up, I’m gonna get my ass kicked.”

“They’ll have to get through me first. Not that it’s an issue any longer.” Raif grabbed a fistful of Tyler’s shirt and jerked him to his feet. He’d never had the need to be so rough or possessive in his life, but at this moment nothing would please him more than to leave marks all over Tyler’s body so none would mistake who he belonged to. “Aside from Chicklet, I will allow no other to lay hands on you.” He struggled to find the words, those in his own language feeling so much more accurate than any he could say in English. But he needed to make sure Tyler understood each and every one. “I claim you, Tyler. You have one last chance to tell me not to, because there’s no turning back. You wanted my attention and now you have it in full.”

“That’s
all
I want. But…I love Chicklet.” Love and loyalty shone through Tyler’s steady gaze and Raif craved that for his own. And respected it more that he could say.

“I know you do. But she told me I could have you.” Raif bent down to lick Tyler’s bottom lip, allowing himself no more than a taste. More would come very soon. “I am very happy that she’s willing to share.”

“Are you?”

“Willing to share?” Raif chuckled at Tyler’s nod. “With her. Yes. But tonight…”

Ah, the impatience of youth. Raif’s smile broadened when Tyler frowned at him. “Tonight?”

“You belong to me.”

* * * *

The condo wasn’t what Tyler had expected. A short drive, chatting about the game tonight and other stuff, had him nice and relaxed, but stepping over the threshold was nerve-
wracking. Even all the nice new clothes he wore weren’t fancy enough for this place. He hadn’t expected a mess or anything—Raif was the kinda guy who had his shit together—but this might as well be a hotel.

Looking around after kicking off his shoes, Tyler fixated on the only thing in the place that proved someone actually lived here. Pictures of a man, others with a woman, and a kid—with
Raif
as a kid. Wasn’t hard to see they were his parents. Weird thing was, with all the pics of Raif at different ages, there was only one with him and his mom and dad. Raif looked like he was about twelve. He had a huge smile on his face, a real one. But his parents had perfect, shiny-toothed, camera ready, fake smiles plastered on their lips.

Tyler picked up the picture in its old-fashioned silver frame and glanced over at Raif. He wasn’t sure if he should say anything. Just because Raif had brought Tyler home with him, that didn’t mean Tyler could start asking stupid, personal questions.

Raif shook his head and sighed as he stepped up to Tyler’s side. “You are too easy to read, Tyler. Speak your mind. And get used to doing so.”

All right, I can do that.
Tyler held up the picture of Raif with both his parents. “Are your parents divorced? They look like they don’t like each other, but it’s just a picture, so maybe I’m seeing it all wrong. They look like they like you though—I mean, love you. Of course your parents love you!”

The blank look Raif gave him had him wondering if keeping his mouth shut wouldn’t have been a better idea. But then Raif shook his head and smiled. “Divorce would have been a blessing for them both, but it wasn’t necessary. They spend little time together. And the time they have for me is well spent.”

The time they
have
for you?
Tyler didn’t like that. But he kinda got it. His mom was great when she was single, but then she’d gone on the “you need a daddy” crusade and he was lucky to see her before leaving for school in the morning. He put the picture back on the glass shelf. “They look like good people.”

“They are. Both have done work for charities all over the world. Progress is always good and they’ve made strides for those less fortunate. I am very proud that I am their son.” Raif moved to the square, harsh sofa that looked like it belonged in a Tetris game. He sat and patted the cushion next to him. “Your parents must be very proud of you?”

“Yeah. I don’t have a dad.” Tyler sat on the sofa. Damn, it was hard. He’d rather sit on the floor, but Raif hadn’t asked him to. That would’ve been better. Would have made things clear, but they were just getting started. So he stuck with Raif’s last question. “My mom is proud of me, but my father… well, I hope he’s still in jail. He beat her and stuff. I hate him. But it’s old news.”

Raif put his hand on Tyler’s wrist, stopping him from rubbing his thighs. He’d probably noticed that Tyler wasn’t comfortable talking about this stuff, but…well, he was a Dom. It was in his nature to dig deeper. Chicklet did that sometimes, but Tyler was used to that. She had a way of doing it that made talking okay.

And she knew pretty much everything. So Tyler wasn’t sure he wanted to drag out all the stuff that was
over
. Not right when he and Raif had just gotten past dodging each other like forwards on an offensive rush against a dogged defense. But he’d seen how Raif was when the puck hit his stick. He wouldn’t stop until he took a shot or made a solid pass.

No passes to make here.

“Speaking of your father is a hard limit. You do not need to tell me so. I understand. And I expect certain things involving your mother are difficult as well. We will leave that for when you are more comfortable with me.” Raif’s lips slid into a slanted smile. “You’re waiting for me to lead you, Tyler, but we have reached a compromise, yes?”

Tyler liked listening to Raif talk. Didn’t matter what he said, he just had a cool accent that made Tyler hard. Nodding would work, so he did it. Reclining on the sofa wasn’t relaxing, but hearing Raif, agreeing to whatever he said, was. So Tyler went with that.

“Compromise,
zlato moje
. You are a lazy boy. I will have your words.”

What does that even mean?
Tyler tilted his head on the back of the sofa so he could look at Raif. The man’s hair was messy, which made him sexy as hell. A grin stole across Tyler’s lips. “What kinda words do you want,
Master
?”

“You try my patience, Tyler. How would you like it if I took your submission as an excuse to bend you over the back of this sofa and fuck you? You’re not comfortable now.” Raif stood and took off his jacket. He was real big standing over Tyler. And the idea of him being mean and rough on this cold sofa had Tyler’s dick shrinking a few inches. Tyler sat up straight as Raif moved away from him, toward the hall, his tone casual, like they were talking about the team’s last game. “I’m sure with enough lube, I could enjoy myself, but you would be quite sore. And you do not like this room. You need to be held. Cared for. But I’m not sure where we should begin.”