Chapter 22 Dominic
DOMINIC
The days between my night with Mia and game day roll by too slowly.
I’m caught between seeing Dad, who needs his oxygen tank upgraded, meetings with his care team, meetings with sponsors, and trying to somehow keep up with the team and their training, while also being keenly aware of the fact that I’ve had no time for Mia.
We text each other whenever we can, and she sends me some pictures that have me needing to escape to my bathroom to have a fucking agony wank at work like some pervert. And I realise I miss her. I really, really fucking miss her.
It’s a visceral pain to climb into bed without her. I’m old enough to know how intoxicating that first rush is, when everything is new and exciting. That first rush led to three of my marriages.
I also know I’m a hopeless romantic, and I have to be careful with this woman. She’s tough as nails, but I don’t want her to have to be tough to withstand me. With Mia, it’s different. I want to be the place where she can fall down, where she can be herself.
The fact she’s almost submissive in bed is thrilling to me. Not because I want her submission - I’m not some young lad that needs his ego stroked - but because she wants to give it to me. Because she trusts me. I know better than to ruin that.
“How’s Grandpa?”
The voice tears me from my reverie, heat rising in my cheeks. Archie walks into my office, and here I was thinking about how his wife was submitting to me in my bed just two days ago.
Ex-wife. She’s his ex-wife. Stop guilt-tripping yourself.
“He’s fine. Cranky as ever about being fussed over, but fine. He can stay at home for now.” I lean back in my chair as Archie wanders in, taking a seat opposite me. “He said you’d been to see him the other night.”
Archie shrugs, looking out the window at the training field. “I guess I needed some support, and I knew I wouldn’t get it from you.”
“I was more than willing to support you if you’d actually shown up.”
Archie laughs cynically and gives me a side-glance. “Yeah right.”
“So, Libby Mills?”
Archie’s head snaps to look at me. “What about her?”
“What about her indeed?” I raise my eyebrows, and Archie shrinks in on himself just a little. “Is it true?”
“Which part exactly?”
“The year-long affair?”
Archie sinks further into his chair, like a petulant little boy, and huffs out a sigh. “I mean, it wasn’t quite a year.”
“Are you having a fucking laugh?”
“Oh my god.” Archie springs to his feet, resuming the same pacing from Barry’s sunroom. “Yes, alright. It… it started last year. It wasn’t meant to be anything. It was just casual fun at first.”
“Casual fun while you’re married?” I shake my head. “There’s a word for that.”
“You don’t get it.” Archie turns to face me, throwing his hands up. “Mia never made me feel special. She’s always so judgemental. I never felt good enough for her.”
“And you thought you’d just prove her right by going out and cheating on her?” I cock an eyebrow. “Good plan.”
“Well what was I meant to do?”
I stare at him blankly, wanting to slap him upside the head and wondering if that’d jolt his brain into a position where it would start functioning.
“I don’t know, Archie? Maybe, hmm, let’s see… Divorce?” I give him a bright smile. “That’s usually the idea when you’re not happy anymore. I think that’s why it exists.”
“Yeah, you’d know.” Archie glares at me. “How would that make me look? Divorcing the poor little foster kid from Leeds for the wealthy blonde actress? Yeah, that’s great for my image isn’t it, Dad?”
“You stayed with Mia for visuals?” I ask incredulously.
“Everyone loves her!” Archie explodes, like a spoiled little brat throwing his toys out the window.
“Everyone admires her! They like who I am with her, they like what it makes them think about me. I’m the good guy, right?
I’m not a fucking snob who looked down on the shopgirl. If I leave her, I’m the demon.”
“And you thought running off to Spain with the rich blonde actress would make you look better?”
Archie’s nostrils flare, and he rakes a hand through his hair. “I-I told you, it was just a casual thing at first. But then… Libby told me she wanted a family, and, well, you know Mia can’t have kids.”
Rage bubbles in my chest. “So you finally found a good enough reason to leave her.” I laugh harshly. “Nice. Really nice, Archie. Let me guess, you were going to make it public that Mia was infertile?”
Archie’s indignant expression instantly drops into something sheepish and pathetic, and I want to kill him.
“You were, weren’t you?” I growl, having to press my hands to the desk to stop myself charging across the room and beating the shit out of him. “Fucking christ, Archie. Your cruelty really knows no fucking bounds, does it?”
“It was Mum’s idea,” Archie mumbles, and I can feel the veins in my temple popping out.
“Your mother? She knew about you and Libby?” I don’t know why I’m surprised. Andrea has hated Mia from day one, she made that more than clear. But this is low, even for her.
“She knew about Libby, but she didn’t know about Spain and all that. She was more worried about me maintaining my name and my place in the club.” Archie actually kicks his shoe into the ground, scuffing it like a snot-nosed kid. “I know it wasn’t exactly honourable-”
“Not exactly honourable?” I storm towards him, and he flinches. “Not exactly fucking honourable? You wanted to try and justify your infidelity, Archie, by airing your wife’s private medical information. That’s disgusting. That’s twisted. What is wrong with you?”
“It was all for nothing anyway!” Archie squares up to me, fury in his eyes. “Libby never finished up with her last boyfriend, and then in Spain she told me she was pregnant!”
I blink as I try to absorb what he’s saying through the veil of my own anger. “She… So she is pregnant?”
“Yes!” Archie turns away from me, hanging his head. “She got pregnant at the start of the season, while she was away filming.”
“But it’s not yours?”
He shakes his head. “It’s not possible. We didn’t see each other for over a month.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “And now the club’s thrown me, and Mia won’t talk to me, and…” He cages his fingers around the back of his neck and exhales heavily. “I fucked it all up.”
I’m tempted to feel bad for him for a moment. He’s lost everything. He’s my son. I should pity him, shouldn’t I? But then I think of Mia shaking in that cab when she found out about her dad, of her being all alone, of the press subtly blaming her for Archie leaving, and I’m angry all over again.
Or maybe I’m just protective of the woman I’m fucking falling for and want to kill the man who made her feel like this, even if it’s my own son.
That probably makes me a bad person. I know it does.
But I can’t bear the thought of Mia suffering, not at Archie’s hands, not at Andrea’s, not at anyone’s.
“Mia won’t talk to you,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “And you shouldn’t try. You leave her alone. You’ve hurt her enough.”
“You’re my father!” Archie spins to face me, his face contorted with pain. “My father. You’re meant to care about me, not Mia. You’re meant to help me patch things up with her. You’re meant to help me get my life back. Don’t you want me to be happy?”
My own guilt and shame drive me from the room. I throw up a hand and retreat, the images of fucking my son’s wife on my couch burning on the backs of my eyelids.
“I’m done, Archie.” I stride from the office, past Sarah’s desk, Archie hot on my heels.
“Dad. Dad. I want her back, you have to-”
I turn on him, and he stops short. I jab a finger in his face, gritting my teeth.
“I don’t have to do anything. You stay the fuck away from her.
You have done enough. Enough, do you hear me?
You don’t get to run out on your life, then waltz back in and expect everyone to just forget and take you back. ”
He glances around us, at the watching eyes, and blinks rapidly. “Dad, please,” he mutters. “She’s my wife.”
“No, she’s not. Not anymore.” I turn on my heel and stride away. “Now, I have a game to go to.”
“Will she be there?”
I’m back in his face so fast he visibly cowers, and Sarah gasps, half-rising from her chair with her hand to her mouth.
“If you dare show your face at that stadium, I will knock your fucking block off, do you hear me?”
Archie’s face is the picture of disbelief, eyes wide, mouth hanging slack. He doesn’t respond, just stares at me as though he’s waiting for the punch.
“I said do you hear me?” I bellow, and the whole office has fallen silent.
“Y-yes, sir.” Archie backs away from me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”
“Shut up.”
I stare him down, all the inappropriate, possessive thoughts I’ve had over Mia for the past few weeks taking over.
I won’t let him patch things up with her.
Never. The shame is replaced by raging jealousy at the very idea that he’d dare to try and take back my woman.
The woman who trusted her past and her heart and her body to me is never going back to him.
I turn and leave before I say something I’ll regret.
It’s not the time for those thoughts to come out.
That’s Mia’s call, not mine. And as much as I want to shout from the fucking rooftops that she’s been in my bed, that she’s glorious and wonderful and beautiful, I can’t.
I’m not taking control away from her, that’s been done too many times in her life.
I won’t be like that.
I drive the hour to the opposing team’s stadium, where Mia is waiting for me in the stands.
“Hello there,” she says, her smile dropping into a look of surprise as I take her hand, leaning over her. “Is something wrong?”
“You need to come with me, right now.”
She’s confused, but obeys. She follows me through the box, to the bathroom.
“Dom, what are we doing?” She whispers.
Wordlessly, I pull her in behind me and lock the door.
Mia frowns at me as I turn to face her. “Dom?”
I charge at her, pulling her against me and kissing her. She responds instantly, wrapping her arms around my neck. I back her against the counter, dropping to my knees and pressing my face into her lap.
My hands roam up her thighs, underneath the hem of her dress, and she’s wearing those fucking sexy suspenders again. I push her dress up, yanking her panties aside and pressing my tongue into her hot cunt.
“Dom!” She cries out, quickly clapping a hand over her mouth. She moans against her palm as I fuck her relentlessly with my tongue.
This has to be fast, someone will discover us, someone will come looking, but I need to do this. I need to own this woman’s body for just a few minutes and remind myself that she belongs to me now.
I’m drunk on her scent and her taste, so intoxicating as it mixes with the remnants of my rage. I suck hungrily at her clit, her thighs trembling and the ragged pitch of her breathing telling me she’s about to come apart.
And when she does, shaking and panting, I have to press a hand to my groin to relieve the ache, to stop myself exploding in my trousers right here on the floor. There’d be no covering that up.
I keep my face buried between her legs until she calms. She lets out a long sigh, followed by a satisfied laugh as I pull her clothing back into place and get to my feet.
“Well, that was a surprise,” she murmurs.
“I needed it.” I press my lips to hers. “Sorry, probably completely crazy.”
“You do seem to have a thing for exhibitionism, Mr Graves.” She laughs breathlessly against my mouth. “But I have to say I don’t really mind.”
I sneak her back out into the corridor, and we nonchalantly make our way through the gathering to take our seats in the stands.
I watch the lads annihilate the opposing team, my dick still obscenely hard from eating out my son’s ex-wife.
A malevolent part of me is thrilled at it all, and I know that probably makes me a terrible father.
Sitting here rejoicing in all the things going right in my life while Archie’s falls apart?
I’m a piece of shit.
The voices in my head creep in with venomous words, telling me I should be ashamed. Telling me I should know better.
But with Mia’s scent coating my beard, I can’t even force myself to feel bad anymore.
And tomorrow, she’s taking me to Paris.
This week has been a rollercoaster, but it’s about to be perfect.