Chapter 9 #2
That kind of talent isn’t something you simply fluke or pull out of your ass on a random Thursday training session.
That kind of talent is honed from years of pushing limits.
Encouraged by a talented father, crafted by time and bruises.
God knows how many times the guys have fucked themselves up on the ice.
That’s not even counting the damage actual games have on their bodies.
But for Lennon to be as skilled as she seems to be, you need to be dedicated, and dare I admit it, I’ve developed somewhat of a respect for her now.
She wasn’t joking when she told us she eats hockey for breakfast.
Lennon is not what I expected her to be, not in the slightest. She has a background in law, which is a far cry from the NHL.
There’s something about seeing her on the rink that makes me believe that her dad made the right choice.
Watching her come alive for a few fleeting moments reminded me of someone.
Or someone's. The only other two players I’ve witnessed lose themselves fully the minute they set foot on the ice.
My guys. And I already know there’s a fucking storm brewing in my defenceman’s head, because I just know he didn’t expect to learn that while our girl may not have followed her daddy’s footsteps on paper, she sure as all fuck knows what the hell she’s doing. Hell, probably more so than I do.
I stack the players’ boots away, their blades from today's practice stored in the bin, ready for me to sharpen. After the little interlude at practice, I was unable to stick around any longer when the team finally returned to their regular schedule. Seeing the newfound respect that her little performance earned her from the team was almost too much to handle. The way their eyes glinted over her body had me feeling murderous. Had me wanting to make a show of exactly who owns her, even if she doesn’t know it yet.
I already know that the guys are thinking the same thing by the way their jaws are wired in a permanent, rigid clench.
Which means Sasha will waste no more time before taking what he wants from her.
Making her his, ours, in every way possible, before leaving her in the only way he’s imagined since she got here. Dead.
Me, on the other hand, I can’t think of anything but the way her perfect fucking lips would feel wrapped around my cock. How she’d sound choking on my cum as I fill her so fucking full, she won’t ever starve for another man again.
She needs to know. It’s fucking time.
She needs to know who she should be thinking of when she touches herself at night.
Who will be the ones to ruin her, before putting her back together, just to dismantle her piece by fucking piece all over again.
She should know who owns that tight little body of hers.
Because right now, she doesn’t, and that’s just not good enough.
Lennon might think she’s untouchable, but she’s far from it.
Her scent hits me before the knock at the door sounds, interrupting my thoughts of her.
I give myself a second, allowing my raging fucking hard-on to cooperate, then slowly start to turn to face her, standing awkwardly in the doorway, looking like she doesn’t know whether to run into my arms, or far enough away she forgets her own name.
She can try to run, but I’ll only find her.
There is no corner of this earth I wouldn’t search for her.
No secret little hiding place she can retreat to that I wouldn’t find.
That’s the joy of being my scent match. It comes with perks.
My eyes fall onto the skates in her hand, one of the laces twisting between her fingers.
It isn’t an impatient move. It's more of a nervous one.
God, I like that. I like that she is nervous. Second guessing things.
Instead of giving her the grumpy, brooding side of me, the one that I know that she is expecting, I grace her with a smile.
Leading her into a false sense of security, because why wouldn’t I?
Who knows how long we have with her before Sasha does what he’s set out to do?
Slowly, I walk toward the door, reaching out a hand before gently taking the skates from her.
“Miss Gilmore,” I nod. “Come on in. Was kinda hoping you’d swing by sometime.”
My tone is cheerful but completely fake.
The tension in the room shifts a little, not for the worse, but also not for the better.
She’s surveying me. Trying to figure me out.
Reading every single one of my tells for any falseness.
Oh, don’t worry, darlin’, they’re all there, but your pretty little eyes won’t figure out shit.
Lennon hesitates a little more before finally shaking her head, her own soft smile replacing any doubt she may have felt.
I’m not a fool. I know that a woman like her in a world filled with Alphas like me is bound to be protective of herself.
I thought she’d be a helpless, defenseless Omega, but I’ve come to learn that I’m not always right about my assumptions.
A rarity. And as my eyes lock onto hers, I can’t deny how glad I am of the fight we’re inevitably going to be faced with when the time comes.
Even if, deep down, there’s something inside me that hates the mere idea of that.
But I can’t entertain it. Won’t entertain it.
For Sasha.
“Sorry that it’s taken me so long. The idea of time in this place is insane.
If I didn’t have a watch, I swear I’d lose myself in here,” she chuckles shyly, walking past the threshold and over to the bench I was just working at.
The corner of my mouth twitches as I close the door behind her, the lock sliding into place with a muted click.
“It’s fine. Really. The equipment manager is hardly on your list of important people to see,” I chuckle darkly.
I sort of meant it, but I don’t care enough about it to write to management.
That’s how it always is here. Besides, I know my job and I do it well.
The last thing I fucking want is to be micromanaged, or to have some young intern asshole fuck with my vibe.
Which will no doubt happen if I so much as make a single complaint.
So, I keep to myself and do my job, and in turn, everyone here leaves me the hell alone, save for my guys.
Lennon frowns at the sudden change of tone in my voice.
She’s right there. No more than three feet away from me.
Her scent might as well fucking drown me because my whole body feels like it’s on fire with her being this close.
It was the same as the other day when she bumped into me.
Her being close enough to touch is sort of electric.
As if her mere presence ignites a spark in me, and now that I know what it feels like, I can’t get enough.
“That’s where you are wrong, Dominic.”
Fuck.
The way my name sounds on her tongue is far too tempting. It makes me want things. Things I know that I can’t have. Yet. Not until Sasha, my Alpha, says so.
“The way I see it,” she continues, drawing me out of my wayward thoughts, which seem to be happening a lot more frequently in the past few days.
“The equipment manager plays a vital role within the club, one that goes far too under-appreciated. You are the backbone of every single practice and game day. You are the one who ensures that our players are equipped and ready. Don’t sell yourself short, Dom. ”
Well fuck me dead.
In a matter of moments, this Omega has chipped away at the walls I had been fortifying. With every moment I seem to be spending in her presence, she shows me just how perfect for us she really is. How fate chose right when they made her ours.
It was reality that fucked up when they destined us together. Tying the daughter of a monster to three equally terrifying creatures was a mistake. One I plan on using in my favor.
I narrow my eyes at her, trying to get my own unbiased read on the woman. I know what I have been told to feel. The part that I am expected to play in all of this.
That doesn’t mean I am a blind sheep.
“You are different from what I thought you would be,” I murmur, more to myself than to her.
“What? Didn’t expect the new owner to be an Omega? Or is it because I am a woman?”
There is a defensive note in her tone, her walls quickly beginning to form, and I know if I don’t do something drastic now, I will have to work ten times harder to slither my way in to break her back down.
She goes to turn, but I catch her hand, pulling her into my body. She grunts, her form slamming into me. I let go of her hand, only to direct my touch to her hips.
If I had known how much of an effect she would have had on me this close, I might have let her get away.
Because now that I have her in my arms, it's going to be real fucking hard to let her go. But I have to. I can’t keep her.
At least not permanently. Even though that thought alone goes against everything my body is programmed to feel.
Her gasp has my attention drawn to her lips. The plush surface taking every single thing I had promised Sasha and turning it into dust.
Fuck.
“You are beautiful. So fucking beautiful it is hard to breathe.” I can’t stop the words as they spill out of me, my voice low and raspy, like I’m fighting for damn air. Well, it’s too late. They’re out there, and there isn’t a single thing I can do about it now.
“I…” she begins, but I stop her before she can say anything else, placing my finger over her lips. My knot continues to throb painfully, begging me to sink into her depths. To feel her warmth as it wraps around me, welcoming me home like I know she would.
“You’re an enigma to me,” I confess quietly. “A contradiction. One that I am desperate to know.”