He leans in, mouth brushing my neck in the softest kiss, one hand still on my thigh, the other warm against my lower back. His mouth finds the spot under my ear and kisses it, slow and warm. “I’ll be back soon,” he adds, running a hand up my back before lifting me off his lap.
He sets me on the patio and stands. I instinctively look down, my eyes trailing to the large imprint of his cock through his sweatpants.
He catches me staring and his smirk widens. He steps in close, grabs my chin between his fingers, and lowers his mouth onto mine.
Butterflies erupt in my belly. His lips are soft and teasing as they dance with mine. He’s a disarmingly good kisser—infuriatingly good at everything.
By the time he pulls back, I’m dizzy all over again. He smiles, brushing his thumb across my bottom lip. “Behave while I’m gone,” he murmurs, planting a soft kiss at the corner of my mouth.
“Try not to miss me too much,” I shoot back.
He chuckles, grabbing his phone from the table, and heads toward the house, tossing me one final glance over his shoulder. “I make no promises.”
And he’s gone.
Chapter twenty
~DOMINIC~
I hop the boards for my next shift, skates carving as I slide back into position. We’re up by two, but I’m not coasting. Not with this much time on the clock and a team full of desperate assholes clawing for blood.
My hip barks the second I dig into my stride. Took a hit early in the first — left side, full weight, straight into the boards. Felt fine then. Doesn’t feel fine now. It’s probably nothing serious. I’m thirty-two, not fifty-two. Still got time before the warranty runs out.
Blazers 2, Red Wings 0.
We’re controlling the pace, cutting off their transition plays before they form. Zed’s been a wall in thenet, like always. We’re rolling three forward lines and two defensive pairings tonight.
I’m centering Line One with Jace on right wing and O’Connor on left. Addams has been working with our conditioning team, so I’ve been doubling shifts, pulling back defensively to anchor when needed.
Coach tried to tell me to conserve energy. I told him to watch the scoreboard.
Jace peels off to my right, skating wide, calling for the puck.
I don’t give it to him yet. I skate the line, baiting the Wings into committing, and they do.
I fake the pass, drop a shoulder, and cut left. Their defense bites too late, and I’ve already threaded through. I snap a backhand to Jace behind the net and skate into the slot, circling out. Jace doesn’t miss a beat as he slings it right back. The puck lands on my tape and I fire. Bar down, net ripples.
3–0.
Crowd goes feral, but I don’t celebrate with them. I’ve played long enough to know how fast a game can turn. People get sloppy when they think they have it in the bag.
I know Jessica’s in the stands tonight. I know exactly where she is — section 112, third row from the glass. I could pick her out in a second. I’ve been doing it each time my shift ends, like muscle memory. The second I let myself glance up, my eyes find hers like a homing missile.
But I can’t afford to get distracted with twenty minutes left. So I keep my eyes forward and fight the urge to find her.
I spit onto the ice, slap the back of Tanner’s helmet as he rotates in for his shift, and drop back onto the bench. I’ve got twenty minutes left to finish burying the Wings and then I’m going home to finish what I started.
I rotate my shoulder and glance up at the clock. Still time to bury them deeper.
But when I lean forward to rest my forearms on my knees, a jolt of pain radiates through my left hip.
Fuck.
There it is again. I grit my teeth and shift my weight off it, rolling slightly to the right. It dulls the edge, but not by much.
Younger me would’ve ignored it. Would’ve skated the full sixty, limped through media, and lied straight to the team doc’s face while he pressed on it with cold hands and too many questions. Back then, I thought pain meant I was tough. Like gritting through it made me untouchable.
Now I know pain only makes you a liability. Every game I ignore it is a game closer to losing ice time and ending my career earlier than it needs to end.
