Read Online GAME MISCONDUCT (The Dartmouth Cobras) by Bianca Sommerland - Free Book Online Page A

then moved down to kiss the slender length of her throat. “Not here, but when this is done, we’ll go out to dinner and act like a regular couple. If you can forget what you saw and what I said—”
    “No. I won’t forget and I won’t pretend.” Oriana retreated a step and put a finger on his lips. “I already told you I wouldn’t do that to you.”
    He felt like she’d just thrown ice water in his face. She wouldn’t even give him a chance. Not that he blamed her. What she’d seen him and Sloan do would traumatize most women.
    Her fingers stroked along his cheek, then delved into his hair. She rose up on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss. “You said we should take this one step at a time. How about we do that?”
    “Yeah.” Drawing her into a firm embrace, he pressed his lips to her brow before backing. “Let’s do that.”
    * * * *
    Black leather boots, a book bag, and a white jacket were strewn across the bathroom floor. Sloan followed Perron, confused as hell when he saw who was inside. He hadn’t expected to see her again. Wasn’t sure he wanted to.
    Oriana Delgado sat on the wide, gray laminate counter, bare feet on the edge of the white sink, forehead resting on the mirror. The reflection showed him her face was blotchy, like she’d been crying. Sloan didn’t feel an ounce of pity for her. What could this stuck-up brat possibly have to cry about?
    “Oriana,” Perron said. “They’re here.”
    Her eyes pressed shut, she gave a jerky nod, then hopped off the counter. Looking unsteady on her feet, she turned to face them. “I—”
    Perron stopped her mid-turn and ran his hands down her back. His fingers brushed the exposed flesh of her ass where the bottom of her dress had twisted to one side. Sloan’s mouth went dry. That heart-shaped butt was just made to fit in his palms, made for him to squeeze while he . . . fuck! Even outside, all covered up, she’d tempted him. Now, with her all rumpled and temptingly vulnerable, it was impossible to feign disinterest.
    She squirmed as Perron’s hand covered her ass. “Max—”
    One firm arm around her shoulders held her still as Perron tugged down the hem of her dress. “There you go, love. Not tryin’ to take advantage—you were giving the boys a show.”
    Yeah, she was. Thanks for ruining it, buddy.
    “Oh, god.” Oriana hid her face under Perron’s arm, whispering. “This isn’t embarrassing enough?”
    “It’s all right, darlin’.” The southern drawl Perron usually hid in order to fit in crept into his tone as it deepened with concern. He kissed the top of her head and murmured into her hair. “Would you like for me to ask them?”
    Whiskey-colored eyes flicked from one man to the next, paused on Sloan, and closed before she pressed her face to Perron’s chest and mumbled. “No, I will. I’m just . . .”
    Sloan grinned. S urrounded?
    Mason moved into the room, and the door drifted shut behind him. “Is this about Stanton? Are you ready to leave him?”
    “I can’t leave him.” Her lips parted in a wide O before she snapped them shut.
    “Oh, please—” Sloan scowled when Perron gave him a dirty look. Did the man seriously think he’d waste his time listening to her drama?
    Before Sloan could tell them all to enjoy the evening and take off, Mason crossed the room to stand over the girl in full white-knight mode.
    “What does that bastard have on you?”
    “N-nothing—” Oriana seemed to be trying to burrow under Perron’s jersey. Her words were muffled against his chest. “Forget it. Max, please bring me h . . .” She shook her head. “Somewhere.”
    “Are you sure?” Perron frowned, massaging her shoulders when she didn’t answer. “You can trust them; I wouldn’t have suggested this otherwise. Just spit it out.”
    She gave him a you-can’t-be-serious look, angled away from him, and crossed her arms over her chest, causing her breasts to strain against the tight black laces of her corset.