by Debra Kayn
He shifted his finger forward and rubbed the very spot she needed him to touch. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, Dom … ”
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
She hadn’t expected that he would take his time, to romance her with words, or to see her own excitement reflected back to her in his eyes. His callused finger slid inside of her. He understood, and he continued pleasuring her, until she shattered into a million pieces.
He stroked her thighs, letting her recover. She blinked away the moisture gathering in her vision. “Dom,” she murmured. “That was, oh God, that was freaking wonderful.”
“I know.” He rolled her over, until he was on top of her, settled between her legs. “But I’m not done with you yet.”
She saw the exact moment the ice melted from his eyes and he succumbed to what was happening between them. She reached between their bodies, placed him inside her, and hooked her legs around the back of his thighs.
He began moving slowly. She could feel the tension coiled in his shoulders. Inch by inch, he plunged inside until they were fully connected. He hissed. She cupped his face, and arched her back.
She reveled in his shudder, in the fact that she brought a man his size, his strength, his determination to a level that he trembled in her arms. She felt delirious.
“You feel so good.” He moved back and forth, sliding, caressing her from the inside out.
She gave a throaty moan as his thrust sped up. His arms shook in the effort it took to restrain himself. She raised her hips, meeting him halfway as her body rejuvenated below him. She needed more. He deserved more. She locked her ankles behind his back, wrapped her arms around his neck.
Her body tensed, strained, reached. He drove home, and as he fully possessed her, she gazed up into his eyes. The depth of her love for him brought her to a crazy finish. She clutched him as waves of pleasure coursed through her body, and he shuddered his release.
He went down to his elbows, bracing his weight off her, but staying inside of her. She swallowed. Hard.
Emotional and spent, she allowed him to roll her to her side, curling her against him as he pulled the cover over them both. She laid her head against his bare chest. His heart raced against her ear. Only then did she squeeze her eyes closed. I will not cry. I will not cry.
Chapter Twenty-One
Diana lost track of how many times Dominic made love to her in the last three days. She would’ve thought she’d have him out of her system or the newness would wear off. She peered around the corner of the bedroom door at Dominic lounging on the bed with the newspaper. The opposite was true.
She couldn’t get enough of the big guy.
Playful, serious, entranced, dedicated, athletic. He’d shown her multiple sides of himself in bed and out. Throughout the best thirteen days of her life, there was one thing she’d been dying to do and so far, she hadn’t been brave enough to ask him.
Until now.
She sauntered into the room wearing another one of his jerseys after taking a quick shower. “Hey.”
The newspaper in front of him lowered. He gazed at her intently, his mouth softening as he set aside the sports section. “Hey you.”
She stood at the side of the bed, her hands behind her back, and looked everywhere but at him. Although she watched him in her peripheral vision, she’d chicken out if she had to face him.
When she’d finally found what she was looking for in the kitchen on top of the refrigerator after making coffee for them both, she’d thought of nothing else than asking him for one huge favor. Now that she was standing in front of him, nervousness hit her.
He’d think she was silly asking him to do this for her. She lifted her bare foot and crossed her legs. She should turn and go back out. He’d never know what was going through her mind.
“What do you have behind your back, sweetcheeks?” he asked.
Oh, God. She bit down on her lip. It was now or never, and she did not want to go home knowing she balked, because she was too worried about him laughing at her.
“Um, I was wondering … ” She sat on the edge of the bed, her back away from him, and her hands still hidden from his view. “You know when we first met?”
“Yes. At the field in Cottage Grove.” He leaned over, spanned her waist with his hands, picked her up, and plopped her down on his stomach. “You ignored me.”
“Yeah, well, um.” She grimaced, settling down on top of him. “I can be a snob.”
“No … ” He chuckled. “You?”
She bounced on him and glared. “You’re not supposed to agree.”
“You were adorable. Sexy. Unforgettable,” he murmured.
His gaze warmed and his hands went to her thighs, underneath the material of her shirt. Quicker than she could brace herself, he’d moved her until she sat on his erection. She warmed. “Oh, boy,” she whispered. “Okay. This is good.”
“Very good.” He continued touching her, caressing her skin, and looking at her with those fabulous blue eyes of his that could go from ice to innocence in one blink.
If she didn’t ask him now, she never would, and she had to see him do it one more time before she went back to Cottage Grove. She thrust his sunglasses in front of her and smiled on a shrug. “Do you think you could wear these?”
His brows rose. “Now?”
She nodded. “Please?”
He took his black sunglasses from her and glanced at her again. “We’re in the house.”
“Yeah.” She braced her hands on his chest and leaned forward, liking the way he felt between her legs. Even though they were having a conversation, she found sitting on his hardness a little distracting and too enjoyable. “You’re hot. That first time I saw you, you were wearing them. You had your thugs behind you and they were wearing sunglasses too. I became overwhelmed, because I’d never met someone so famous they came with a security team. But what I remembered, and I can’t seem to forget, was how damn sexy and hot you looked standing there with your arms crossed, your shades on … and despite a gazillion women fluttering around you … you only looked at me. Even with your sunglasses on, I could tell, you only had eyes on me. From that day on, I knew you were my weakness. I fought. I argued. I was a royal bitch,” she ended on a whisper. “Because deep down, I wanted you.”
She hadn’t planned on spilling her guts to him or confessing to how much he’d turned her on from the first minute they met.
For several seconds Dominic didn’t say anything. She started to get off him, when he took the sunglasses, put them on, and flipped her over onto her back. Her body came alive. Excitement, Lust. Love. Hope. Anticipation. All her emotions tangled together.
“Dom … ”
He remained silent and all she could concentrate on was the feel of his hard body settled between her legs. Her thin mesh jersey top she borrowed from him was no barrier to the heat that rolled off him. Her nipples hardened and ached. She dragged in a deep breath, and trailed her hands up his arm, over his shoulders.
His eyes were hidden behind the sunglasses, his lips parted. “You, Diana Spenner, are the only woman who I have ever wanted to look at.”
Oh, geez. She liked that. A lot.
There was no way she could hide her reaction to his confession, not from a man who knew every type of woman and enjoyed them his whole life. And she was his favorite. The warmth she was experiencing coiled deep inside of her.
She was practically panting as she reached between them and pulled his boxers out of the way. “Condom?”
He stretched to the side, never leaving his position between her thighs, and grabbed another condom off the nightstand. With ease, he ripped open the foil, covered himself, and brought his attention to her. Her lashes fluttered shut and she held herself still, barely breathing.
“Open your eyes,” he whispered, his words thick with control.
Diana wasn’t sure if she could look at him, but then his mouth was crushing hers and everything about the moment became him. The way he touched her.
The feel of his lips pressing down, eliciting a response from her — one she couldn’t deny. Her emotions tumbled out in a raw, soul-burning phenomenon. She wanted him now. Hard and fast. Her and him.
His tongue, moist and demanding, parried with hers. There was an urgent possessiveness in the way he kissed her. Every kiss she’d ever experienced in the past, every boyfriend she’d ever dated, every fantasy she’d created in her head burned away with the memories Dominic created for her. From right now, there was only him.
One hand came off the bed and he stroked her heat with his finger, opening her, and guiding himself in. He slowly plunged into her wetness, holding himself there with more control than she was feeling herself. She ached for him.
Dominic withdrew, then thrust again, and the whole time he stared down at her. She didn’t have to see his eyes behind the sunglasses, because she knew he only looked at her.
She locked her legs around his hips and hooked her arms around his neck. Dominic came down to his elbows, continually riding her body. She arched up to kiss him. To her surprise, Dominic kissed her back, but took total control.
He was gentle, and so sweet she thought all her dreams were coming true. She moaned. Her body spiraled higher. Oh, God.
His hands, his thighs, his hips claimed her. But his mouth showed her what he wasn’t saying in words. Staked to the bed, consumed by everything Dominic, Diana cried out his name in the most wonderful, soulful release. He’d gone still, his breathing ragged a millisecond before he groaned, burying his head in her neck.
It was in that quiet moment, Diana saw something so beautiful, so potent, and so scary, she knew without a doubt what she must do. Her stomach soured at the thought. She’d convinced herself she could return to Cottage Grove with no regrets.
It was too late.
She loved Dominic with every breath in her body. He’d opened her eyes, showed her a side of him she would never have seen — that no other person had seen. If he hadn’t stalked her and not given up, her life would be poorer.
She squeezed her eyes closed. Now she was sitting on a half million dollars, in love with a professional hockey player who couldn’t be in her life, and her dream of owning the Ferriday house were coming true. She should be happy. Her arms tightened around Dominic. All she could think about was how little time they had left together.
Chapter Twenty-Two
In the hectic rush of Dominic getting ready for the Sharks versus Red Wings game, Diana carried her luggage out to the living room. She’d already washed the bedding, remade the bed, cleaned the bathroom, and stolen his jersey. There was nothing left to do.
Dominic would take her to the airport on his way to the game. If she stopped for too long, thought too much about the moment, she’d start crying. She’d never voiced what she really wanted.
He never asked her to stay, and deep in her heart, she knew her life was back in Cottage Grove. Once she arrived at the hotel, she’d let herself have a good cry for losing a man who’d stolen her heart. Then she’d walk to the real estate office and slap down the money for the Ferriday house to get over how hard it was going to be to find the strength to walk away from someone like Dominic.
Dominic’s keys jingled. She turned and winced. The serious Dominic was back. His eyes colder than ice stared back at her.
“Do you want to drive?” He tilted his head to the side.
She picked one of the bags off the floor. “No, you can.”
He ran his tongue over his teeth, his jaw twitching. “I’ll get the rest of the bags and put them in the trunk.”
“Thanks.” She followed him into the garage.
On the road, she stared at his hand on the gearshift. The white scars over his knuckles from all the rough play on the rink, the broad width of years of building his muscles, and the callouses from hours of work and dedication for a sport he loved would stay engraved in her head for the rest of time. Yet all she could conjure at the moment was the soft touch of his fingers against her skin. She sighed.
“You okay?” He reached over and squeezed her hand.
She nodded. “Yeah. I just … ”
“What?”
“I’m happy we became friends, Dom.” She smiled. “Thank you for asking me to help you. I’ll never forget you or the last two weeks.”
He glanced out the side window. “Me, neither, sweetcheeks.”
Geez. Sweetcheeks. She’d even miss him calling her fat when he really didn’t mean she was fat.
At the small runway for private aircrafts, Dominic handed her items over to the co-pilot. She stood alongside the plane, not ready to go. There were so many things she hadn’t told him, so many things they hadn’t done. Most of all, she waited for him to change her mind about leaving. All she needed was him asking her to stay.
Dominic walked over to her. She held her breath. This was it.
He reached into his pocket, removed his wallet, and withdrew a check. “Here you go. If you have any problems cashing it, let me know.”
She stared at the zeroes until they all blurred together and were unrecognizable. She forced a laugh. “Don’t forget, my dad’s a banker, remember?”
“Right.” He looked off into the distance.
“I won’t forget about naming one of the rooms after the great hockey player Dominic Chekovsky either. It’ll be the best room at the bed and breakfast.” She laughed softly to keep from crying. “Any time you want to stay at the B and B, I won’t even charge you.”
His mouth hardened. She frowned.
“Dom?” She stepped in front of him and waited for him to look at her.
He’d closed himself off. She wanted to tell him to keep playing hockey in his socks, to dance and forget about time, and to drive with the top down on the Porsche with the radio cranked full blast. Yet she was afraid he’d do that with some other woman, and she couldn’t find the strength to think about what comes next for him.
“I better get on the plane.” She rose onto her tiptoes and kissed him soft and long. The warmth that always came filled her chest and she trembled. Forcing herself to go before she changed her mind, she stepped back. “I’ll see you in Cottage Grove some time, right?”
He inhaled deeply. “Maybe.”
“Goodbye, Dom.” She smiled sadly.
“Have a safe flight, sweetcheeks,” he whispered.
She turned away before he saw her tears. The co-pilot helped her into the charter plane and she sat down, buckling the harness. When the plane rolled forward, she turned to the window.
Dominic stood watching the plane, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. She put her fingers on the glass. He dropped his chin to his chest, turned, and walked away from her.
• • •
Four hours later, Dominic sat in the penalty box after letting his anger continue to fester over letting Diana walk away. He itched to get back in the game after a five-minute penalty. There were three minutes to go in the last half of the game, and he wanted back in. More than anything he wanted Craig Brown, and he wanted to make him hurt.
Hurt the way he’d hurt Diana. It was as if she couldn’t wait to leave him, and that confused him. They’d grown closer during their time together.
Last night, he thought he’d won the lottery. He’d lain there in her embrace, his hips resting between her thighs, her arms around his neck, and their breath mingling. For the first time, he felt at home. After all these years of coping with his schedule, his life, his career, and being away from his home country, he’d reveled in knowing he was right where he wanted to be for the rest of his life.
Nothing, not his parents, hockey, his team, his community brought him the peace and contentment that Diana gave him. Every time she looked at him, he filled with energy. He wanted to do better, go bigger, and be a man she could be proud to walk beside. He loved teasing her, because he noticed the way she drew closer until her body softened against him. His chest tightened. He wanted to protect her and make sure she’d never leave him.
He hit his ho
ckey stick against the wall holding him back. Anger built inside of him. He already missed her.
She’d walked out of his life, and he let her go like a fool. The last smile she gave him said everything. He’d hurt her. He’d failed. He’d lost her.
Maybe he was foolish to believe they could work something out between them. Was it even fair of him to ask her to tie herself to life with a hockey player who had to put the team first and spend his days on the rink?
All he had to do was get through this game, and then he could deal with what happened today. He ground his teeth together and concentrated on the penalty clock. All he needed was time to get his head in the right spot, the game behind him, and then he’d figure out his next move.
He’d fucked up.
Useless to stop Diana from walking away from him, he deserved all the torment he was under. Nothing was the same without her by his side. He had no idea what any woman wanted from him, especially Diana.
She’d accused him of wanting her for sex, and he’d let her walk away as if all they had was a good time and it was over. He’d lived up to her original opinion of him. Shit.
The buzzer went off and the door swung open. He raced out across the ice, picking up the pass from the forward, and skated full speed ahead. Brown zeroed in on him from the side, he passed the puck off, cut across the blue line, and came out behind his opponent. He trailed the edge of his stick along the ice, waiting.
The opening came the same time Brown glanced behind him. He captured the puck. Left, right, left, raised his stick, and Brown crushed him against the board. He bounced back, punching the other player in the face. His head snapped to his shoulder, and he continued to wail.
The referee forged between them. Bradley skated in and pushed him away from Brown. He ripped off his gloves, his helmet, and threw them across the ice.
“Check it, man.” Bradley got in his face. “Coach is going to have your ass. That’s three penalties in one game.”
“Go to hell.” He pushed himself away and slid back in the penalty box.
He looked at the scoreboard. Hell. Game over. The Sharks won, but he still ran strong and hot. He studied the stands, going straight to Diana’s spot in the team’s private area. The seat next to Stephanie’s was empty.
