by Luis, Maria
Dominic isn’t taking any risks with Harry, and at least three times a week, the redheaded teenager is over at our house and hanging out with Topher.
My heart squeezes at the thought of my son, and I scour the kids all gathered around the fire to find him. He’s sitting with his legs crossed at the ankles, his chin resting on his bent knees. The matter with Rick dampened his bright smile—particularly when Rick gave up all parental custody to me—but we’re working to bring back his pep.
Dominic, especially.
Following practice, they spend their days swimming in the bay and playing basketball out on the street. They binge Netflix shows that I have no interest in watching—moto gearheads are not my thing—and I’ve walked into the living room multiple times to see my son passed out on one side of the couch and Dominic sleeping on the other.
As if sensing my stare, Topher lifts his head and catches my eye.
I love you, I mouth to him, hoping the fire is bright enough that he’ll notice what I’ve said.
He smiles, a soft, boyish grin that warms my heart. Love you, Mom.
It’s what I need. All I need.
My team around me, Topher, Dominic.
If this is what true happiness feels like, then I never want to leave this camp.
“Come with me,” Dominic urges quietly, his hands already tugging me up onto my feet. “I gotta show you something.”
“Are you sure we should leave?”
“Gloria and Meredith can handle the kids,” he says, leading me toward the cabins we’ve rented for the weekend. “And if they can’t, Brien will step in.”
I laugh at that. “Adam hasn’t even left his car since he got here earlier.”
“He doesn’t do bugs.”
“What a pansy.”
A hard palm swats my butt, and I jump. Twirling around, I put up my hands. “Whoa now, mister—”
“You asked for a bear.”
“Not even once. Remember, I fear them.”
“You don’t fear me.”
I cock my head, staring up at him as I walk backward. “Should I?”
“Yes.”
And then he’s looped an arm around my thighs and I’m over his shoulder—again—as he breaks into a light jog.
“Dominic.” I pound a fist on his hard butt cheek. There’s barely any give. So unfair. “Dominic, you have to put me down.”
“Negative, Coach.” He doesn’t even sound winded as he cuts across the dark field to where the staff cabin is located. “I have to show you something.”
I stare down at the grass as it passes me by, his sneakers churning up dirt. “You’re going to offer to show me your penis, aren’t you?”
His husky laughter is music to my ears. “Ye of little faith, baby.”
Only once we reach the cabin does he drop me from his shoulder, righting me again on my feet. The world goes topsy-turvy from being upside down to right side up, but then Dominic is backing me up into the dark cabin. He flicks the switch by the front door, flooding the interior with light.
When I booked these cabins, it was with the money the team made from the calendar. It sold thousands of copies. Quite literally, thousands. Even more surprising was when high school football teams across the country began shooting their own calendars.
It’s a blessing and a curse.
Every time we spot another calendar gain viral traction online, Dominic buys fifty copies. His house—the one he doesn’t even live in anymore—has become a storage unit for football calendars of teams he doesn’t even know.
Leaning into him, I kiss his arm. “I love you, you know.”
The grin he gives me is nothing but desire and adoration. “I love you.”
Then he drops his mouth to mine, and I’m gone, as I always am, when he kisses me. I arch into him, my palms splayed over his rib cage. The kiss feels like hope and promise and love, and I give into it completely, hopping up into Dominic’s arms and knowing he’ll catch me no matter what.
Sure enough, he does, with his hands hooked under my ass and a masculine chuckle easing between us. “Here I thought I’d have to romance you a little or at least swear that no one is gonna come in here.”
I tilt my head to the side, giving him ample room to kiss his way down my neck. “I saw you whispering with Meredith and Aunt Gloria. You were scheming.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The cabin is nothing but rows of bunk beds. Not that that stops Dominic from carrying me over to the closest one. He props my back against a wooden ladder that leads to the top bunk, and promptly orders, “Hold on, Coach.”
Hold on?
Hold on to what?
My shorts are gone in the next breath, ripped down my legs until they hang loosely around my ankles. Oh, yes please. I love it when Dominic gets handsy. “Did you see it?” I ask, already breathless, as he traces his tongue along the inside crease of my hip bone.
Black eyes dart up to my face. “See what?”
“Underwear.”
With one hand to my pelvis, like he honestly thinks I’m going to disappear on him, he peers down at the discarded panties on the floor. Flicks his fingers over the fabric so he can see the black font that reads: Property of Football God.
His shoulders shake with mirth. “You better fucking believe it, baby.”
And then he surprises me completely, standing tall and inching his waistband down.
I wiggle my brows. “Are we already getting to the good stuff?”
He wags a finger at me. “Hey, now, everything we do together is the good stuff.” The waistband of his shorts lowers, treating me to my very first visual of Dominic in briefs. He only reveals a few scant inches of the underwear but, much to my delight, I can see enough to admire how the black fabric cups his impressive erection like a faithful lover. And that dark happy trail dipping into paradise? God, he’s delicious. And mine, all mine.
Wait.
I blink.
Why is he wearing briefs?
The shorts drop to the floor with a shove of his fingers and—
Oh. My. God.
I laugh so hard that the only thing holding me up is the ladder. “You didn’t,” I whisper, pressing my palms to my aching cheeks.
Dominic points to the words written across the briefs.
Belongs to Football Legend. Below the white print is an arrow leading down to his dick.
Without a hint of shame, he shrugs his broad shoulders. “I saw your order come in and couldn’t let you one-up me.”
This—this right here is true love.
Laughing at all times of the day, knowing that your other half is going to pull some crazy stunt because there’s nothing he enjoys more than rising up to a challenge—especially when I’m the one issuing it.
“C’mere,’ I tell him, holding out my arms.
He doesn’t need any more convincing.
He slants his mouth over mine as he corrals me onto the bottom bunk. My butt hits the firm mattress first, and then Dominic’s hand is at my shoulder and pushing, pushing, pushing until I’m sprawled out on the twin-sized bed. He follows me down, leveraging his big body over mine. Yes. I hook my legs around the backs of his thighs when our kiss turns frantic. Tongues sliding, lips wet. Dominic tastes like s’mores, and I lick at his lips when he tugs back to catch his breath.
His chest reverberates with a groan. Yeah, he likes it when I push him and take control of his pleasure. Wanting to hear sexy noise rumble out of him again, I strain my bare hips so I can get as close to him as possible.
Dammit, the briefs are in the way.
“I’m never wearing them again,” he grumbles against my neck. “Good in theory, bad in practice.”
With tight, efficient movements, he strips the material off and throws it onto the floor. Freed from its confines, his thick cock bobs against his lower pelvis. The swollen head is already leaking pre-cum. My mouth waters, and I don’t care what that says about me. I’m openly desperate for this man
, and I don’t care who knows how much I love him.
Dominic’s fingers find my thighs. Sharply, he spreads them even wider. So wide that my right knee is actually pulled into my chest while my left hangs over the side of the bed. There’s nothing at all I can do about my body’s response when Dominic rakes me with such a thorough once-over that my sex clenches in anticipation.
He studies me like he wants to devour me whole.
And I want to be devoured.
The thought alone is sensual enough that I throw my arms open and silently invite him in. Into my bed, into my body, into my heart.
His calloused palms squeeze my inner thighs and then he gives me his full weight. Air escapes my lungs upon impact, but that doesn’t stop me from dragging his head close so I can sip on his full lips.
Perfect.
The length of his hard cock slicks through my wet folds, a slow, sensual back and forth that pulls a moan from deep in my soul. He never once enters me. It’s torture and yet divine, exquisite pleasure and still hell on earth.
Merciless. That’s the only word to describe how he takes pleasure in seeing me squirm beneath him. And squirm I do, needing more, needing him inside me.
“I love you,” I whimper.
He glides against me again, but this time he takes his cock in hand and rubs the head against my swollen clit.
“Oh, my—”
Dominic cuts me off with a feverish kiss. He sucks on my bottom lip. Drags his hard-on through my wetness. Huffs out a low, sexy laugh when I thrash my head on the pillow and beg him to just give me what I want.
He doesn’t.
Instead he ducks his head to lift my shirt up, up, up, until my chest is exposed and his mouth finds my nipple.
Paradise.
This must be what paradise feels like.
“I’m grateful,” I moan, not above fisting the bedsheets as I try to remember how to use my brain. You can do this. “I’m so grateful you walked into the Golden Fleece and turned me down.”
In response, he only sucks harder. Until my toes are curling and my head is digging back into the pillows. The tip of his cock slips into me, a slight pressure that promises so much pleasure, before he pulls back out.
Pulls. Out.
“You are the worst.”
He releases a throaty chuckle that elicits shivers down my spine. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do”—I nod eagerly, molding my fingers over the crown of his head—“I so, so do.”
Clearly wanting to drive me over the edge of insanity, he slowly thrusts inside me. The tip. Only the tip. I’ve never felt so empty without him.
I turn my face to the side, slamming my eyes shut. “I thought you loved me.”
“I do, baby,” he croons like the jerk he is, pushing in, giving me a little more of his length, before retreating all over again. “I love you, even when you lie and tell me my cooking is the best thing you’ve ever tasted. I love you, despite the fact that you leave your laundry all over the floor and pretend not to notice when I stick it in the washer. I’ll love you forever, but especially when you challenge me to midnight swims in the bay and try to drown me every single time.”
His cock drives deeper with every thrust. Yes, yes, yes. My legs flex against the bedsheets. Dropping my hands, I grip the pillow behind my head and pray for patience. Dominic is the antithesis of predictability. He thrives off surprise and shock, and he lives for the moments when he can tease me into diving into the ten-percent chaos with him.
I wrap my legs around his lower back, catching him off guard. We both hiss as he sinks to the hilt within me.
“Jesus fuck,” he grunts, dark eyes glittering with lust. I wait for it, that moment when the panic sets in and he realizes—“Shit, Asp, no condom. I’m so sorry.”
I don’t let him retreat. Tightening my calves and my thighs, I hold him immobile as he props himself up on his forearms. Just to mess with him, I nip the shell of his ear. “I went on the pill.”
A wicked smile swiftly tugs at his mouth. Then, “God, I love you.”
And then there’s no more talking, only thrusting hips and grasping fingers. Our mouths fuse, and I don’t giggle when our teeth clack together or even when he forgets we’re rocking it out on the bottom bunk when he tries to sit up. He smacks his head on the metal springs of the top bunk.
“You’re mine,” he rasps, tugging my knees up so they’re flush with my chest and he can hit that sweet spot just there. “Mine,” he repeats, his hips slamming forward and sparking heat inside my veins, “mine to love”—he kisses my mouth, sloppy and desperate—“mine to hold”—his hand cups my breast, his thumb flicking over the hard peak—“and mine to fuck.”
I cry out the moment his fingers travel over my rib cage, down the slope of my stomach, to stroke my clit. He’s filling me up and owning my body and it feels so good. My hips lift off the mattress as I meet him thrust for thrust. “Please, please—”
He gives it to me.
The orgasm rocks me to my core, turning me inside out. I hold onto him tightly, clinging to his broad shoulders, as I crane my neck and come undone.
He shatters a moment later, my name gritted out from between his teeth, his hips pistoning forward with wild abandon as he spills himself inside me.
It’s euphoric.
Downright life-changing.
I kiss Dominic’s stubbled cheek, his dimpled chin, wherever I can reach.
It’s not until we’ve come down from the high that he urges me back into my clothes with a swat to my ass.
“I thought you showed me all I need to see?” I point to his semi-hard erection.
Laughing, he only shakes his head like I’m too much for him. “Outside—now—before the kids come find us.”
“Now you’re worried about the kids finding us?”
Laughing, but still trusting him implicitly, I follow by his side, my hand engulfed in his, as he leads me around to the back of the cabin. The moon is out tonight, its illumination turning the lake silver and the woods a dusty gray. I made the right decision in bringing the team out here to wrap up summer camp.
They needed it.
I needed it.
Angling me so that my back is to the cabin and I’m facing the silver lake not ten yards away, Dominic says, “Look up.”
I blink, startled. “Look up at what?”
“You’ll see.”
“Because that doesn’t sound ominous at all.”
“Aspen.”
I hold up my hands. “Okay, okay! I’m looking up.” I tip my head back, my gaze soaking up the sky. Stars twinkle like little gemstones. I cast my attention east, toward London—though we’re a good hundred miles away from my little hometown on Frenchman Bay.
Wait.
My eyes narrow. Is that . . .?
“Dominic! Oh, my God, it’s a shooting star!”
“You should make a wish.”
Make a wish? What to wish for when I have everything I already want? I’ve never been so happy as I have been this last month. Life is good. Life is sweet. Life is . . .
I close my eyes, briefly, and let myself be whisked away on the fairy tale of wish-making, exactly like Dad had me and Willow do whenever we were feeling sad as kids.
I wish . . .
I wish . . .
My hands find my belly, and I hide a grin.
“Did you make your wish?” Dominic asks, his presence hot at my back.
“I did.” I stare up at the sky for one more moment, then add, “I made two.”
“Cheater.”
“Swindler,” I correct with a little laugh. “The first was that I wished you would kiss me tonight.”
I turn, expecting to see him standing in front of me—and then glance down. My hands fly to my mouth when I see him on his knees.
On one knee.
“Dominic—”
His hands shift forward, flirting with the moonlight to reveal the velvet box he’s holding. “I promise to kiss you every night fo
r the rest of your life,” he vows, popping the box open to reveal a ring. The details are lost to the shadows and all I make out are a yellow stone and glittering diamonds. I don’t even care that it’s not fully visible, nestled in the black velvet as it is—it’s beautiful. “I promise to always put you and Topher first.”
“Topher! Does Topher—”
Dominic chuckles huskily. “Topher helped me pick out the ring.”
“Oh. Oh.”
“I promise,” he continues smoothly, plucking the ring out of the box and holding it up, “to remind you that you may be my boss on the field but you like it when I boss you around in the bedroom.”
“Oh, my God, you’re crazy.”
“I also promise to accept the fact that Guinness somehow makes you drunker than a skunk, and that somehow, whenever you have some, you end up face-first in my lap.”
I’m a hot mess. A crying, hot mess.
“I don’t have the ability to plan for shooting stars but clearly the universe is looking out for me on this one. That was a great touch. Also, for what it’s worth, I have another pair of briefs in my duffel bag that reads Football Husband, but I thought that might be a little too obvious. I’ll save them for our wedding night.”
My cheeks are warm, my limbs are shaking, and I have never, in my life, felt so treasured and loved as I do right now. “Yes!” I cry out. “Yes, I’ll marry you!”
Dominic dips his head, a deliciously smug smile spreading across his face. “Baby, I haven’t popped the question yet.”
“Just yes! My answer is yes.”
“I planned this whole thing out, you know. I want to see it all through.”
“You can really just put the ring on my finger. I won’t oppose.”
He draws in a sharp breath, and then . . . Pops. The. Question.
Only, it’s not the question I anticipated.
I stare down at him, brows creeping toward my hairline. “I’m sorry, I’m going to need you to repeat that for me.”
