Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Willow sighs when I finally come to rest, my arms wrapping around her and rolling us to our sides. “That’s not exactly how I thought the evening would go,” I tell her, brushing my lips against her shoulder.
She laughs, a carefree sound that assures me she’s more than happy we started out this way. “And you didn’t even have to dirty your kitchen to get some.”
My head pops up. “Come again?”
She glances over her shoulder. “Well… I mean, that was great, right? It’s what we wanted. No need to cook me dinner, you know.”
I frown. “You’re a completely odd woman.”
Willow snorts. “Oh, come on, Dominik. We have great sex together. It’s why you pursued me. It’s why I gave in. But we scratched the itch, and now you can take me home. In fact, I’ll just take an Uber to meet you next time. No sense in—”
I flip Willow onto her back and surge up, caging her in by placing a hand on either side of her ribs so I can loom over her. “Fuck if you’re leaving. I am going to make us some carbonara because I’m starved after that workout. We’re going to eat, then we’re coming right back to this bed where we’re going to stay all evening. And I don’t want to hear another word about it.”
“But—”
My mouth hits hers for a bruising kiss that’s meant to tame her. When I lift up, I repeat. “All night. I’ll take you home after breakfast.”
“But this is just sex. That’s all. There’s—”
“Willow,” I growl, and her mouth snaps shut. “I’m starting to get you have some sort of issue with intimacy or something. If you want to call this merely great sex, that’s fine. But I’m greedy, which means I want a lot of this ‘sex only’ thing, so you’re staying in my bed all night tonight and that’s all there is to it.”
She wants to argue. I can see I’m impinging on some deeply held belief she has. I don’t know what the basis of her issues are and frankly, at this point, I don’t care. I’m not looking for a deep relationship either.
This can work out between us for the short term because I think we both essentially want the same thing.
Except… I need to be in charge. That’s all there is to it.
“Look,” I say in a more reasonable tone. “We’re both going to be in the same proximity for the foreseeable future while the Vengeance is in the playoffs. We’re both very, very compatible in bed. Neither of us is looking for anything more than sex. So let’s just roll with it, okay? And don’t freak out if I want you to stay all night. It’s certainly not a marriage proposal or anything.”
“Good,” she huffs, sounding very affronted by the word “marriage”. “Because I don’t want anything deep.”
“Fine,” I agree, grinning at her fierce expression. “Neither do I. But there’s one thing we do need to make sure we’re in alignment on.”
“What’s that?” she asks suspiciously.
I place my fingertip at the hollow of her throat before dragging it down the center of her chest. “This body is mine and mine alone. You share it with no one else while sleeping with me.”
Willow narrows her eyes, baring her teeth. “Fine. It’s a good thing you do a passable job of wringing an orgasm out of me. You’ll suffice.”
I laugh at the totally underwhelming report of what we’ve got going on together. Good thing my ego is large enough to take it.
When I drop my gaze to hers, I shake my head in a chastising manner. “You’re cute when you try to be all independent and act like you don’t need me.”
“I don’t—”
My hand slides down her stomach, right in between her legs, and I give her a firm squeeze. Willow gasps and arches into me, her eyes fluttering closed and her teeth digging into her lip.
Oh, yeah.
She may not want to let her heart get involved, which again… totally fine. But her body is already locked down tight and firmly in my possession. It’s mine to do with as I wish and I’ve already got a million ideas on how to exploit that.
CHAPTER 7
Willow
The atmosphere in the Vengeance arena is so electrified, the hair on my arms rises. The team is out on the ice for pre-game warmups, and Metallica is blaring to pump up the crowd. Even my dad is banging his head a little from where he sits at the end of the row. He and my mother flew in this morning to attend the first playoff game that is historically monumental for this expansion team.
My mom is next to him, but she’s not fazed by the rock music. Instead, she’s standing, her arms crossed over her stomach as she watches her son—my brother Dax—perform warmup drills with the team. She was always the one who was super vigilant over Dax’s hockey while my dad was the fun cheerleader type.