Chapter Seven
Evie
Kingston helps put me back together, then watches with a grin as I fix my makeup before going out to greet fans.
"Do you want to come with me?" I ask, pausing at the door.
He strides across the dressing room toward me, tipping my chin up. "This is your night, baby. You go greet your fans. I'll be here waiting for you."
"You really don't want to go?" I ask, a little surprised.
"Really." He kisses my cheek, then tilts my head back, meeting my gaze. "I don't want your fame, princess. I just want you. I'm more than happy to be the motherfucker standing in the shadows, letting you shine."
My heart flutters. I don't think it stops the entire time I'm signing autographs. A few people ask me about him. I just smile, not saying anything. I'm not even sure what to say anyway.
We're definitely something. I'm just not entirely sure what yet. I'm looking forward to figuring that part out. I feel…like I'm floating. The whole night has been a dream, the kind I used to pray for when I was a little girl.
Only the younger version of myself never saw him coming.
Lord knows, I didn't see him coming, not even when I was stepping over him on the ice.
I don't think that younger version even knew what to ask for when she thought about the man who'd sweep her off her feet.
She certainly never envisioned a hockey star with a panty-melting smirk and a penchant for stalking her DMs.
By the time I make it back to the dressing room, he has all my stuff packed up. I stand in the doorway, gaping at him.
"You didn't have to do that," I whisper.
"I don't mind." He strides toward me, wrapping an arm around my waist. "The sooner we're done here, the sooner I get you alone again." His lips brush mine. "I want you to come home with me tonight."
My core clenches, heat flooding through me.
"I'm ready," I say, meaning it in more ways than I think he even knows.
Or maybe he does, because he grins at me like I just gave him the entire world.
We leave the stadium hand in hand.
Everly catches us before we make it to the parking lot, grinning like she just caught me stealing cookies.
"Mom called," she says, her gaze drifting to Kingston. "Dad wants to meet him."
"Crap," I groan, darting a look at him. If my dad wants to meet him, then videos of tonight are already all over the internet. My dad is smart. He knows if I'm kissing Kingston on stage, it means something.
"I'll do whatever you want, princess," Kingston says with a shrug. "If you don't want me to meet him, that's fine with me. You call the shots here."
"Tell her that I'll call her tomorrow. We'll discuss it," I mumble, not even remotely prepared to think about this right now. It's way too much.
Everly just shrugs in response. "I'll babysit Rufus. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" she shouts as she walks away.
I groan, hiding my face in my hands.
Kingston just chuckles beside me, pulling me up against his side. "Come on, princess. You've had enough for the night."
Of my family? Absolutely. Of him? Never.
I'm not sure why I expect him to live in a fancy mansion in a gated community, but he doesn't. He lives in a gorgeous three-bedroom beach house in Malibu.
There are no gates, no security guards, nothing but sand and water stretching for miles.
I know it probably cost him as much as a mansion in the Hills or Calabasas, but I like this better.
It feels more like a family home than something he bought to impress everyone around him.
"I always wanted to live on the ocean," he murmurs, his hand trailing along my spine as he leads me inside. "When we visited when I was a kid, I thought the ocean was magic."
"I always thought the same thing," I murmur, turning to look up at him, only to find his eyes already locked on my face.
The way he's looking at me makes me shiver.
It's not like he's waiting for my reaction or like he expects me to be impressed.
He's watching me like he just can't help himself again.
I could easily get addicted to that. So freaking easily.
"The first thing I did when I landed was drive out to Venice and put my feet in the water," I whisper, smiling at the memory. "We did it every time we visited with my parents. I had to do it again, just to carry on the tradition. It felt a little like bringing my whole family with me."
"Christ," he rasps. "You're so fucking cute, Evie." His hands span my waist, pulling me up against his body. "I just want to listen to you talk until you lose your voice, you know that?"
"Really?" I grin at him. "I'm not that interesting."
"The hell you aren't." His nose skims the side of my face, his grip on me tightening. "You're the most fascinating thing I've ever seen. You know, you looked like a goddess on that stage tonight? You were glowing."
"Performing makes me happy."
He lifts me like I'm weightless, setting me on the back of the couch. His lips run down the side of my throat as he steps between my legs, pulling me close. "I could spend my life watching you up there and not regret a second of it."
I moan because he's kissing me, because his hands are on me, because I can tell he means it. "You're a dangerous man, Kingston Monroe."
"How so?"
"You're making it impossible not to fall for you," I whisper, my heart in my throat. The words are terrifying—literally the most terrifying thing I've ever said. I think they may be the most important, too.
"Good," he growls, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to make me moan again. "I want you to fall, Evie. I want you so wild for me that you can't imagine a future without me in it." His teeth graze my skin, his groan wild. "I want you so fucking in love with me, you can't see past me."
I don't tell him I want the same thing. Somehow, I think he already knows.
Somehow, I think he's known since the moment we met that this was inevitable.
I was always supposed to be right here, with his hands on my body and his teeth in my skin.
I was always supposed to be dizzy from the way he tells me every thought in his head and holds nothing in reserve. I was always supposed to fall.
It's terrifying and exhilarating.
"Don't break my heart," I whisper, the tiniest of pleas.
He tips my head back, his wild eyes locked with mine. The softness there wrecks me like nothing ever has. "Break it? Oh, princess," he breathes. "I'm going to hold it so tight no one else ever even has a chance of taking even a tiny piece of it from me."
"Kiss me."
His hand cradles the back of my head, tilting it up to meet his mouth. He sinks into me like he's got all night, brushing his lips across mine in soft passes before he sinks deeper.
I melt beneath him, my hands all twisted up in his shirt. One slips beneath, my palm landing against his abdomen. His skin is electric against mine, his body so hard my mind can't even comprehend the work it takes to look like he does.
"Damn," he breathes against my lips, his fingers hooking into the sides of my shirt. "I need to see you, princess."
"Yes."
He groans softly, breaking the kiss to tug my shirt over my head. Part of me wants to wrap my arms around myself and hide all the soft parts, flaws, and imperfections, but the way he's looking at me like he just won the lottery stops me.
"You're so fucking pretty, Evie." His thumb brushes my nipple through my bra, making me moan. "I've been jerking myself raw to that picture you sent me. I fucking love that I got to see a side of you that you don't show anyone else."
"It was supposed to be a turn off," I mumble.
"You without makeup, looking like a fucking angel?" He arches a brow, pinching my nipple. "There isn't a damn thing unattractive about that, baby."
My head falls back on a moan, my breath unsteady.
"I can't wait to wake up to you in the morning." He slips the straps of my bra down my shoulders, his fingers trailing along my bare skin. "Christ, Evie. I'm ready to come, just thinking about it."
I groan his name, pushing his shirt up higher.
"You want this off?"
"Yes. I want to see you."
He grins at me before yanking it off over his head.
Good god. I think I could die happy right here, staring at all those abs. There are eight of them. Every inch of him is a slab of golden muscle.
"Your turn, princess. Lose the bra," he growls.
I meet his gaze, reaching behind me to unhook it. It immediately falls forward, catching at my elbows. I lower it slowly, teasing him a little.
"Fucking hell," he groans, palming his cock, his eyes locked on my tits. "I can't fucking wait to get my mouth all over those pretty little things, Evie."
"What's stopping you?"
He growls, yanking me off the back of the couch so fast I gasp, clinging to him. I don't even get a chance to catch my breath before he's storming through the house, taking the steps two at a time.
I see nothing but giant windows and our reflections bouncing back at us before we're in his room. I don't see any of it either before I'm on the bed, bouncing on the plush surface.
He's on me in two seconds, his body caging me in.
"Kingston!" I shout, arching as his lips wrap around one nipple, pulling it into his mouth. My hands fly to the back of his head, holding him against me.
He growls, biting and sucking. I feel every move he makes deep in my womb and lower, pulsing against my clit. I pull his hair, moaning his name as he switches from one to the other, going back and forth until the ache is so intense, I think I might explode into pieces.
He kisses his way down my rib cage, trailing his tongue around my navel until my stomach clenches involuntarily. He lingers there, his eyes locked on mine as he digs his teeth into the soft skin just above the waistband of my shorts, biting until I whimper.
I feel him smile against my skin, like he's proud of himself for marking me.
"I'm going to leave reminders of me all over you, princess."
"Yeah?" I ask, my voice breathless. "Do I get to mark you, too?"