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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Marissa

Dozer leads me by the hand through the crowd and out the door to his truck. It’s nice getting to just go home with him and not having the extra frustration of dealing with traffic, especially since we’re going to the same place.

Once we’re in the car and driving home, he reaches over and rests his hand on my leg. It reminds me of last week when we were so keyed up, emotions running so high after our conversation, but still so much uncertainty.

Now, the sexual tension is as thick as ever, but I know what this is, what we are, and while it’s still early, I’m confident we both want more or less the same thing—a relationship. A partner. Someone to grow with, someone to support, and who gives the same support in return. Most of that was already in place, really, we just needed to acknowledge that we’re both attracted to each other as well. That even though we might not have thought we were ready for a relationship when we met, sometimes the perfect relationship falls into your lap.

And if I had any lingering doubts about him genuinely wanting to be with me, the way he kissed me tonight in front of everyone laid any niggling worries to rest. That kiss was as much a claiming as it was a greeting.

“Do you mind if we spend tonight at my place?” I ask, rubbing my hand up and down his forearm.

He gives my leg a little squeeze, glancing over at me as he confidently navigates his way through traffic. “Sure. Do you mind if I run upstairs to grab a couple things first?”

“Of course. I can come with you, if you want. Or I can just meet you at mine.”

He gives me a hungry look. “If you come up with me, I’m not sure we’ll make it back down to yours.”

Grinning, I shake my head. “Okay. I’ll go to my place, and you grab whatever you need and meet me there.”

We talk about the game the rest of the drive, with him lamenting the loss, his muscles pulling tight as he talks about how this might affect their chances at making the playoffs.

“You’ve still got lots of time, though,” I point out. “It’s early December. The playoffs aren’t for months.”

He glances at me, a half grin tugging at his lips. “Weren’t you the one who commented about every game counting not that long ago? The road to the Stanley Cup starts in the regular season.”

Chuckling, I shake my head. “True. I did. And I know. Still, though, it’s not like one game is enough to knock you out of the running, right?”

He dips his head to the side. “That’s true.”

“And you looked amazing out there. I’ve watched you play quite a bit the last couple of months, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so graceful and on point.”

He glances at me, eyebrows raised. “Graceful?”

I return his look. “You don’t think hockey players are graceful, gliding around on the ice like that?”

“I just don’t think anyone’s ever applied that term to me before.”

“Seriously? Then they’re delusional.” I lean closer, running my hand up his arm. “You’re gorgeous on the ice. Totally in your element. It’s so fun to watch you play, and when you’re really in the zone like tonight?” I do a chef’s kiss, and he laughs. The full, throaty sound makes me smile. I like making him laugh.

“Well, thank you.” He sounds genuinely pleased at my compliment, almost like he’s not used to being complimented. I file that away and make a mental note to compliment him more often. It’s not something that comes naturally to me, but if it makes him feel more appreciated, I’ll definitely make the effort.

When we get back to our building, he leans over and kisses me after he parks. “Wait here,” he says, then hops out of the truck before I can respond. I unbuckle my seatbelt, watching mystified as he jogs around the front of the truck. The penny drops when he opens my door, making a big flourish with his free hand to indicate I should exit the vehicle.

I know I have a big, dopey grin on my face, but who wouldn’t with these kinds of antics? I climb out and wrap my arms around him, giving him a quick kiss. “You are the sweetest,” I whisper, punctuating the statement with another kiss before releasing him.

Or trying to release him, anyway. He captures me to his chest, kissing me more thoroughly before pulling back with a sound of distress. “Dammit, I’m not gonna make it back to your place if we don’t get going.”

Giggling, I step away so he can close the door. He jogs the couple steps to catch up to me and reaches for my hand, and we’re both smiling like idiots the whole way to the elevator.

I wish I could bring him home with me for Christmas. Since our relationship is less than a week old, it seems way too soon to do that—though we have actually known each other for months now. Still. He probably already has Christmas plans. I don’t want to disrupt that. But having him with me sure would be nice. He’d charm Mom and even Dad would have to respect him a little considering he acts so much like a gentleman, opening doors and all that.

I’ll keep a lid on that thought, though. I don’t want to get ahead of myself.

We separate at my floor. He holds the door to kiss me until the elevator starts beeping, then he pulls away reluctantly. “I’ll be back in a sec. Don’t start without me.”

I shocked laugh erupts from me. “Don’t start without—” He gives me a narrow-eyed look as his meaning sinks in. Then the doors slide closed, and he’s gone.

My cheeks heat as I look around, making sure I’m actually alone. It’s a pretty quiet building, and I don’t often see other residents, but it’d be just my luck that the older couple who live across from me would have caught any part of that.

Fortunately, though, I’m alone. I hurry to my door and unlock it, making sure my place didn’t magically get ransacked and messed up while I was away. I cleaned earlier, knowing I was going to invite Dozer over tonight. We’ve stayed the last several nights at his place, and as much as I’ve enjoyed it, I really want to spend some time in my home.

Of course, everything’s just as I left it. I wasn’t robbed, and no magical creatures broke in to mess up my house. Because that’s not a thing that happens in reality, despite what my sister used to try to tell my parents when she was little. Whenever they’d see that her room was a mess, she would look at them with her big brown eyes and say something like, “I don’t know what happened! I cleaned it like you told me to. Someone must’ve come in and made a mess while I was gone!” When pressed, she would suggest maybe it was fairies or mischievous elves, which would make my dad roll his eyes and complain about her reading too many fairy tale books.

I can’t help grinning at that memory of a tiny Gabby trying to convince everyone that fairies came in to play with her toys while she was at school or asleep. It couldn’t have been her. No, sir. She always put her toys away when she was done. It was naughty elves who wanted to get her in trouble.

“Well, tell them they have to come back and help you clean up,” Mom would always say. “Since they made the mess, they should have to clean it, don’t you think?”

Gabby would nod, dragging her feet into her room. “They never come help when I ask them to, though,” she’d say glumly.

And Mom would sigh. “Sorry, kiddo. You gotta pick up your toys, though.”

One time, after Gabby was in college, Mom and I were having coffee, and she confessed that part of her wondered if Gabby wasn’t telling the truth. “She said it so many times and with such conviction, it was hard not to believe her sometimes.” That’s apparently why she never let Dad punish Gabby for lying, and instead just insisted she clean her room, with or without the help of the mischievous creatures who were always making messes.

Dozer wasn’t kidding when he said he’d be quick. That or my trip down memory lane took longer than I realized because before I know it, he’s knocking on my door. I skip a little to get to it, pulling it open as fast as I can. “Come in,” I barely manage to get out before he’s bowling me over, kicking the door closed behind him, his mouth sealed on mine, his arms wrapped around me and carrying me along with the same speed and strength as a tsunami.

It’s no wonder he’s the guy always going after the other team when they check one of the Emeralds’ players. He’s fast, he’s focused, and he’ll slam into you like a force of nature. It’s a wonder those guys don’t just fall over and give up at the first impact. I guess they’re probably used to it, but still.

His raw power is amazing. Thrilling. Intoxicating. And the way he uses it to toss me around like I’m delicate and tiny makes me feel … cherished. Treasured.

It’s new and different for me. Peter would complain if I sat on his lap. And I never tried with anyone else because I didn’t want to feel like a fat cow again.

But Dozer? He doesn’t seem to have any trouble moving me around like I weigh nothing.

The more time I spend with Dozer, the more it seems like there was never anything wrong with me at all. I just hadn’t found someone who worked with me in the right ways.

He carries me into the living room, where he stops kissing me to look around. “Bedroom?” he asks, and I hitch a thumb over my shoulder, keeping my other arm wound around his neck.

Dropping the reusable grocery bag in his hand to the floor, he grips the back of my thigh, pulling one leg up to his waist, and I quickly get the idea and wrap my other leg around him as well. Grinning, he carries me to my bedroom where he gently lays me on the bed. He kisses me thoroughly, stripping me slowly, each article of clothing sailing over his shoulder followed by his until we’re both naked. “Show me what you like,” he murmurs against my skin as he kisses my neck.

I squirm against him. “This. I like this.”

He stops kissing me and shakes his head, a wicked twinkle in his eyes. “No. That’s not what I mean. Show me what you do when you’re alone. When you’re thinking of me.”

A hot flush rushes up my body. “Who says I do anything while I’m thinking of you?”

He grins, caressing my cheek with the back of his finger. “This blush.” Sitting up, he looks around. “Do you have a vibrator? Where is it? Is it in the nightstand?”

“Uhh …”

He shoots a quick glance my way as he opens the little drawer, then comes up, a triumphant grin on his face as he holds aloft the purple vibe I keep in there. “Please?” he asks quietly, passing me the vibrator. “You’re so sexy. I want to watch you come.” He settles on the bed next to me, leaning over to kiss me, his hand trailing up and down my body, coming close to but never quite touching the places I really want him to.

His touch is almost hypnotic, though, and before I can second-guess myself, I part my thighs, dragging the silicone toy along my skin. When I’m alone, I’m usually a lot more perfunctory than this. Masturbation is like relieving a sexual itch, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s better when you just take care of things without dragging it out.

With Dozer, though, I like that he takes his time. That he doesn’t rush to get his dick in me as fast as possible. That he spends so long kissing and caressing before anything else happens. That he clearly wants to make sure I get what I need too. And not just as an ego boost, but because he cares about me, and he takes the time to make sure I orgasm too.

When I turn the vibrator on, he lifts his head, looking down between my legs, but I reach for his face, bringing his mouth back to mine. Even if he did say he wanted to watch, he doesn’t protest, kissing me thoroughly, his hand still mapping its way across my body, now sliding up and over my breasts one at a time, his thumb stroking each nipple in turn before gently pinching them in the way that never fails to make me gasp, electricity shooting down my spine to gather between my legs.

The next time he stops kissing me, I keep my eyes closed, letting him watch if he wants to, losing myself in the sensation, the knowledge that he thinks I’m sexy, that doing this turns him on, and that in turn ramps up my own desire. For him. For us. For this.

I hear him rustling around, and my eyes flutter open for just a second to see him moving around. Then he’s kneeling between my legs, gently pressing my thighs apart to make room for him, stroking his dick slowly with one hand. “Can I?” he asks, and I nod.

Without disrupting my work, he gets himself in position, and I feel the broad head of his cock nudging at my entrance. I gasp. When he drives himself home, I come with a shout, the shock of his thrust all it takes to push me over the edge into bliss.