I waited until he dipped his head in acknowledgment. His gaze never left mine. Damn, this man was intense. My nipples perked up and my skin warmed under his scrutiny. I’d never been so seen—felt so singularly focused on before.
“I need you to talk to me—be honest.”
He nodded again, but this time I needed the words. He got that because he finally said, “I understand.”
My lips tipped up. “Good.”
He studied me for long moments. So long, I nearly asked him to leave, which would have required me to move off him, something I didn’t want to do. He was warm, and…shame as it was to admit it, he was alsoright. To me. For me.
I wanted a strong man. Craved that strength. Because I knew he’d have enough to share with me if—when—I needed it.
“What if I told you that you’d be saving me, too?”
“Wh-what?”
He ran his fingers through his hair.
“Never mind.”
“Absolutely not. Spill, Dolov.”
He shot me a faintly disgruntled look. “You’re bossy.”
I lifted my chin. “I’m assertive, as every person should be. Now, how could I helpyou?”
His brow pulled low, his lips flat. “I told you I have to get married.”
He waited for my nod before he continued, “There’s a problem with my immigration status. The Wildcatters are working on it, but ICE could deport me…”
I gasped. “But…but…you’re a famous hockey player!”
“Who is Russian when most of the world hates Russia. My lawyer said my chances aren’t looking good because of a technicality with my original Green Card application. I’d make a hell of an example that no one is above the law.”
I searched his gaze, seeking the truth—that he wasn’t manipulating me to get his way. I hated that I thought that, but after Dillon, how could I not? I was too confused, tired, and achy to really think this matter through.
I pulled away, planning to go back into my room and mull over our conversation and the night’s events. That’s when I realized the towel had fallen open, and I was sprawled out naked in Maxim Dolov’s lap.
Chapter11
Maxim
She scrambled off my lap, smashing my aching dick in the process, but I wasn’t complaining because her attempt thrust those plump tits into my cheek, and that feltfantastic.
I wanted to hold her longer, to worship her creamy, smooth skin, but she disappeared through the door with a flash of her gorgeous ass. I groaned because, somehow, it was even better than I’d imagined.
Once I got off the hall floor and locked myself in my bedroom downstairs, I’d jack off to those perky strawberry-colored nipples and the soft, pale globes of flesh that bobbed as she skittered back into her room…leaving her damn bag out in the hallagain.
With a chuckle and a shake of my head, I rose and repositioned my erection. Then I stretched. Sure, my cock ached with need, but my chest warmed because Ida Jane was nearby. Where I needed her to be. Dare I say where she belonged?
“I’m leaving,” I called. “Your bag’s out here, though I have to admit, I love you naked, so I’m tempted to take it back downstairs.”
Her choked curse made me chuckle. She saidmanureinstead ofshit—like any normal adult would. Ida Jane wasn’t normal, though—she shone too brightly for that label. And she was entertaining in her creativity and workarounds.
While I enjoyed riling her, I needed her cooperation. Wooing her was my best option, so I’d do a damned fine job of it. As I started down the stairs, I wondered if Ida Jane had become more intriguing because she’d told me no—very few elite athletes acceptedthatword.
No, I’d win her for myself because now that I’d tasted her and held her, I needed to make her mine. I’d been attracted to her from the beginning when I watched her give hell to her ex. But I hadn’t expected to respect her as much as I did. Working with traumatized kids? I’d needed someone just like her in my youth—I was lucky I’d turned out okay, but I knew I would have made better choices, been less closed off, if Ida Jane had been there to help me through my mother’s death and father’s alcoholism.
She was fun, quick-witted, and kind. All those adjectives hit mebeforeher most excellent rack or her curvy little ass. So, yeah, maybe I was smitten.
