Dillon whipped his head toward me, eyes widening. “What the fuck is it with you? This is between Ida and me.”
I advanced, my pace measured, making sure Dillon wasn’t crushing Ida’s windpipe.
If he did… Rage billowed through me, my muscles seeming to swell. I wouldn’t let that happen.
“No, you just assaulted a woman. That makes it between any decent person and you.”
“And you’re decent?” Dillon sneered. “I know about your past, man. The orgies, the fights. You’re nothing but a bully on the ice. The asshole the rest of the guys use to do their dirty work. You’re just like me—worse. So, walk away, Dolov.”
“Maxim,” Ida Jane said. Her voice was raspy, her throat clearly damaged. “I can’t breathe…”
I arrived early to pick Ida Jane up, unable to stay away from her any longer. I made paper airplanes for some of the kids while she finished her therapy session and some paperwork. The moment Blade and I arrived home, we splayed out on the couch—yeah, I wasthatdog owner—while Ida Jane made me more apple butter. I ate it on toast, in oatmeal, even by the spoonful. Something about the spices made me feel warm, like a hug from food. Weird as that was, I loved the taste and the feeling, and Ida Jane seemed happy to make it for me.
Blade turned his head from his position and moaned. Houston was in a heat wave, fairly common for any time of year, but the dog and I hated the high temperatures paired with the high humidity. I turned the fan up to high and sprawled out in gym shorts and a tank top. The dog was on his back, legs flopped open to get more coolness on his hot junk—I understood because mine was sweating.
Much as I wanted to lower the temperature in the house, which had been my only big splurge before getting married, I couldn’t do that to Ida Jane, who seemed to enjoy the warmer temperatures. So Blade and I moaned from the couch, and she brought us icy drinks—in the dog’s case, ice—which we slurped up.
Ida Jane settled next to me on the side opposite Blade and thumbed through the mail. “Ooh!” She waved the envelope in the air, grinning. “I know what this is,” she said.
“Open it.” I sat up, excitement sizzling through my system, my heat sensitivity forgotten.
She pulled out a new blue card inset in a larger piece of paper. Her name: Ida Jane Barlow Dolov was printed in bold black type. I stared at it for a moment, letting reality sink in. We were married. It was legal at the government level now. Maurice Lambert would now have a much harder time deporting me.
I tugged her into my arms, wrapping them around her.
“We’re official,” I said against her lips as I kissed her. Because why wouldn’t I? Kissing Ida Jane was one of my favorite past times. My favorite one was sliding inside her body, but I enjoyed snuggling and taking walks with her, too.
She kissed me back. “Indeed. And you’re legallymine.” She laughed at my confusion.
I traced her cheekbone. The bruising had disappeared, and Ida Jane looked gorgeous with her dewy, smooth skin.
“I’ve been yours since we met, Fists.” She didn’t understand how true that was. I was afraid to tell her just how much she meant to me.
I’d been so sure I could get married and not let my feelings get involved. But with Ida Jane, I couldn’t resist—couldn’t help but adore her.
She dropped her head against my chest and belly laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“I can’t believe I wooed you by standing up to another man.”
That reminded me of my dream. Tension twisted through my guts. He was out there, and I was sure he was plotting.
“Assertiveness is incredibly hot.” I grabbed her hand and placed it on the growing bulge between my splayed legs. “See?”
“Oh, I feel it all right.” She traced my length, making my head spin with desire.
“That feels so good. I lose my mind when you touch me.”
“Just what every woman wants to hear her man say.” She peppered my cheek with kisses while I relaxed deeper into the couch.
“Don’t stop,” I said, breathless.
“I think I need to prove that you’remine, Maxim Dolov,” she whispered before she nipped at my ear lobe.
“Don’t need to prove anything,” I panted. “I am. Fuck. Don’t stop. Feels good. So good.”
She slipped her hand inside my gym shorts and briefs, and I groaned as her fingers wrapped around my girth.
