Page 20

Chapter 20

Promises Worth Breaking

Dmitri

H otel rooms blur together after a decade in the league—generic art, bland carpets, forgettable city views.

But tonight, Tampa’s lights glitter through floor-to-ceiling windows like they’re taunting me. The team’s heading to dinner soon—some trendy place Coach swears has life-changing salmon—but I don’t give a fuck.

Because all I can think about is her.

My phone sits on the desk, a silent, burning temptation.

It’s been twelve hours since I left Erin. Twelve hours since I held her. Since I left her lying in my bed, sated and spent.

And I haven’t stopped thinking about her since.

The day had been hell after landing in Florida—light skate, film review, and an hour of media obligations where I grunted one-word answers while replaying every little gasp I coaxed out of her. I nearly took Finn’s head off during a simple drill because he wouldn’t stop smirking about how distracted I looked.

Now it’s evening, and my control is fucking gone.

My phone buzzes and my breath stalls.

For one, heart-stopping second, I think it’s her.

It’s Liam.

[Liam]: Sophie says Erin’s acting weird. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, big guy?

I curse in Russian, dragging both hands through my hair.

I know all about it. Her moans as I spread her out on my sheets, taking my time. Her screams when I used my mouth. Her shattering over and over until all she could think of was me.

Another text:

[Liam]: Dima. You there?

I exhale sharply, willing my pulse to slow.

[Me]: Everything’s fine.

I glance at my watch. Eight o’clock.

She must have put Ris to bed and is probably reading in the living room or working on her videos.

The team is probably wondering where I am. But the thought of sitting through dinner, pretending to care about fucking salmon while Erin’s in my house, waiting for me —

I want her in my bed.

Fuck it.

I grab my phone, fingers hovering over her contact. One tap, and I’ll see her face. One tap, and I’ll hear her voice.

The screen lights up.

My pulse thunders.

She’s sitting in bed, propped against a heap of pillows, a book on her lap. Wearing my T-shirt. It hangs off one shoulder, her preferred look showing off those toned muscles and exposing golden skin, her hair a wild cascade over her collarbone.

Her eyes are smoldering. Hungry.

“Hi.”

I drag in a slow breath, forcing my grip to relax on the phone. “Is this a good time?” My voice is thick. “Ris asleep?”

“Yes,” she murmurs. “She had a great day at school, ate well. We tried to call you before dinner, but you didn’t answer.”

“I saw. Interviews.” I pause, drinking her in. “My T-shirt looks good on you.”

She bites her lip, and a low growl rumbles in my chest.

“It was in the laundry,” she admits, voice dropping to a near whisper. “It smells of you.”

That does it.

“Does it help you with…things?”

She hesitates, then slowly trails her fingers down her neck, across her collarbone—exactly where I breathed against her skin last night.

“Yes,” she whispers. “I can still feel you on me.”

“What are you imagining while you’re wearing it?”

The blush spreading across her cheeks is devastating.

“Mm. So many nice things.” She evades the answer. “But I want to hear what you’re thinking about first.”

I lean back against the headboard, gripping my throbbing cock and letting her see exactly what she does to me. Her breathing accelerates. “How you gasped when I touched you. How perfectly you fit against me. All the ways I’m going to make you fall apart when I get home.”

She makes a small, desperate sound. “Tell me.”

“First,” I growl, “I’m going to pin you against the wall. Press my thigh between your legs while I taste that spot on your neck that makes you shake.”

Her eyes flutter closed. “Tell me more.”

“Then I’ll carry you to my bed. Undress you. Spread you out like a feast. Take you apart with my mouth until you’re begging.”

“Dmitri...” Her voice breaks on my name.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Are you imagining my cock filling you, sliding in and out of your pussy?”

“Yes,” she shudders. “The long, slow strokes. It feels so good.”

“Open your eyes, solnyshko . I want to see your eyes when you imagine it.”

She does, and the raw need in her gaze nearly breaks me. I want to climb through the screen and consume her. Or at least catch the next plane to New York. But instead, I do the next best thing, shifting on the bed, pumping my throbbing dick, my jaw clenched tight.

“Tell me, solnyshko .” I manage to growl, rough edges curling around my words. “Did you think of me today?”

She pants now, her breath coming in fast.

“Yes,” she moans, and my blood ignites.

“Did you imagine my cock stroking your pussy?”

Her cheeks are on fire, but she doesn’t look away. “Yes.”

“Did you…take care of yourself?”

She nods. Slowly.

“Show me how you did it.”

Her breath stutters.

“Show me how you took care of yourself,” I demand, voice dark, gravelly. “I want to see how desperate you are for me.”

Her fingers tighten in the sheets.

For a moment, I think she’ll refuse.

But then, she tilts the camera.

Her hand is under the hem of my T-shirt. She watches me. Waiting.

“I don’t have anything on under this.” Slowly, so fucking slowly, she inches the fabric up, revealing smooth, bare skin, the swell of her thighs parting just enough to make my mouth water, giving me a glimpse of her pink, bare pussy.

And I mean bare. No hair. Glistening and pink.

“Who did you wax your sweet cunt for?” I growl, stroking my aching cock harder. I swear to God, I’m so close to falling over the edge.

“For you,” she whispers, caressing her opening with her finger, twirling her clit, pumping her finger in and out . “Do you like it? I went this morning, after school drop-off.”

My cock throbs. I want to feel that smooth flesh wrapped tight around me, feasting on her heat.

“Show me how you fuck yourself thinking of me,” I order, voice dangerously soft. “Let me see what belongs to me.”

Her pupils are wide. Her hand is at her opening, sliding up and down, pumping the fingers in and out. I spit into my hand, fisting my cock again, imagining her wrapped around me.

“Good girl,” I breathe, chest tight with hunger. “Now take off the shirt and show me your tits.”

Her breath shudders out, but she obeys. Her breasts are two perfect mounds, her nipples two pink hardened peaks. She leans the phone on the nightstand, takes her other hand and twirls a nipple, continuing to pump her pussy.

My pussy.

I can see that she is close to unraveling. I pump my cock harder. Seeing her body convulse in a powerful orgasm pushes me over the edge too, my come squirting over the bedsheets in a release.

Her chest rises and falls rapidly, a light sheen of sweat glistening on her collarbone. I want to trace it with my tongue.

“You okay, solnyshko ?” My voice comes out gentle.

She nods. The sight of her naked, flushed and satisfied does dangerous things to my pulse.

“That was...” She trails off, biting her lip.

“Perfect.”

“What are we doing, Dmitri?” she murmurs, her fingers still trailing over her own skin, teasing the both of us. “You promised Liam you wouldn’t touch me.”

“Some promises,” I tell her, my voice dark with intent, “are meant to be broken.” My jaw clenches. “Besides, he’s not blind. I told him, solnyshko .”

Her eyes widen. “Was he upset?”

“No. He wants you to be happy.” I pause, my voice rough. “I do too.”

Her smile is pure sin. “Three days.”

“And nights,” I agree. “And then you’re mine again.”

Her breath catches. She shifts, tugging my shirt back over her head, getting comfortable against the pillows like she isn’t wrecking me completely.

“Watch me play tomorrow?” I ask.

“Yes. I wouldn’t miss it.”

I drag my gaze over her, drinking her in.

“Maybe I’ll go through your laundry, find another jersey to wear while watching you play.”

I growl. “You’re trying to ruin me.”

“Is it working?”

“Perfectly.” I scrub a hand down my face. “I should let you sleep.”

She pouts. Actually pouts. “Already? Now that you’ve had your way with me, you’re just letting me go?”

I snort out a laugh. “I need to eat. I have early practice tomorrow. Big game.” I pause, watching her stretch like a satisfied cat. “And I need you rested for when I come back.”

Her cheeks darken, but then she shifts, inhaling deep. “Sorry to ask this...” She hesitates.

“What? Anything for you.”

“Uhh...would it be okay if Luka came over later this week? To record a few videos in your garden?”

I freeze.

“What?”

“Well, it’s such a beautiful, green setting,” she says quickly. “We thought it’d be perfect for a few pop arrangements.”

We. The word makes me recoil, the sound of it like nails on a chalkboard.

“Uh-huh,” I say, voice flat. “What exactly are you envisioning?”

“Luka suggested we play ‘ Thunderstruck’ —you know, the two-cello arrangement? Then maybe ‘ Rolling in the Deep .’ The pool, the garden...it could really set the scene.” She pauses, reading the tension in my silence. “It’s supposed to rain Wednesday. That would make it even more dramatic.”

Rain. Great. Because what I really need is Luka Havran—smug, charming, sitting next to my girl soaked from rain.

Before I can respond, a sharp knock rattles my door.

“Sokolov!” Finn’s voice booms. “Get your ass down here! Coach is about to send a search party!”

I mutter several creative curses in Russian. Both at the interruption and at the idea of that slick bastard setting foot in my house.

But then my girl’s eyes go soft. Hopeful. And just like that, I know I’m going to say yes.

My girl.

That’s right, Havran . My girl.

“No problem,” I hear myself say, my teeth grinding together even as I say it.

Another bang at the door.

“Go.” Erin laughs softly. “Feed your magnificent body. But Dmitri?”

“ Da ?”

She tugs the collar of my shirt lower, just enough to make my mouth go dry. “Score for me tomorrow?”

“Anything for you, solnyshko .”

Her smile is the last thing I see before the screen goes dark, leaving me completely wrecked.

“Sokolov!”

“I’ll meet you at the restaurant! Fifteen minutes!” I shout, already heading for the bathroom. I need a very cold shower before I can face anyone.

“Coach says the salmon waits for no man!” Adam chimes in.

“Tell your daddy to fuck off!”

Their laughter fades down the hallway.

I lean against the bathroom counter, staring at my reflection. My pupils are blown wide, my chest still heaving slightly.

I swear I’ll ruin her when I get home.