Chapter 14
ALLY
Iwas officially thirty-five weeks along; my body was mad at me and achy all the time, and the next five weeks couldn’t pass fast enough. I missed seeing my feet.
Dom: How’d the appointment go? Sorry I had to miss it.
Dom: Groceries should be delivered soon. I ordered extra caramel fudge ice cream.
I smiled down at my phone, ignoring the twinge at my side. The little diva had taken up residence on my sciatic nerve in the last few days and it freaking hurt.
Dom: Did you get new pictures? Send please.
Laughing softly, I texted over two photos that I’d already scanned, knowing he’d want them. My heart did a little flip when he sent back a heart emoji.
This man was killing me. He was attentive and sweet. We had movie nights and dinner together almost every night that he was in town. We’d even gone over to Brooke and Flower’s house for a small dinner party with a few of his other teammates and their partners. Anything I needed, he was ready to provide. I’d been in Denver now for just over two weeks. I was happy I’d made the decision to move in with him, but as nice and attentive as he was, he was getting to me.
Every time he hugged me or flashed me that gorgeous smile. Every time he casually brushed his lips against my hair or when he carried me to bed after I fell asleep during whatever movie he’d put on, and kissed my cheek as I was drifting back off.
Every little touch chipped away at my need to just be roommates. I wanted his hugs to linger, his lips to move from my cheek to my lips. I wanted to tug him into bed with me. My hormones were all over the place, and I wasn’t sure how sex would even work, but I freaking wanted him, and I had no clue what to do. We hadn’t had any more bathroom incidents, and we both acted like it had never happened. Not that I’d told him I’d heard him or anything, but he could probably assume.
My phone dinged again, startling me, and I fumbled to catch it as it bounced on my belly.
Dom: So everything went okay?
Shit. How long had I been daydreaming about this freaking man and not responding to his question?
Ally: Oh yeah. All good. Five weeks to go, and I can’t wait.
Dom: Me neither. We should figure out names soon. You already have a list, don’t you?
I grinned.
Ally: Maybe.
Then my phone was ringing, and when I connected the video chat, his beautiful face filled the screen.
“Lay it on me,” he said, leaning back in his hotel bed.
Which did nothing to still every dirty thought racing through my head. My cheeks heated.
“You okay?” he asked. “You look flushed. Baby Girl still hanging out on your nerves?”
I laughed softly. “My sciatic nerve. Yes. Still there.”
“Maybe I can give you a massage when I get back in four days.”
“Um, sure. Uh, so names?” I paused, shaking my head. “You know I’m supposed to be working right now, Dom.” I tried to sound stern.
“Then you shouldn’t have picked up my call,” he replied with a grin. “So, what are you thinking? Domenica has a lovely ring to it.”
“I’m not naming her after either one of us.”
“Allison is a beautiful name.”
“Thanks, but nope. That would just be weird.”
“Okay. So pull up that list.”
Then, there was a loud banging, and I jumped, looking at the condo door.
“Sorry. It’s over here,” Dom said with a sigh.
I heard muffled shouts from whom I could only assume were his teammates.
“I’m naming my baby right now. Fuck off,” Dom shouted back, and I barked out a laugh.
More muffled shouts.
“Fuck no, Sin. I do not need your help. And Harrietta is completely not happening,” Dom said, turning his attention back to the screen. “Sorry about them.”
“Do you need to go? I really should be working anyway,” I said, giggling as I heard more shouting.
“Fucking hell. They will not go away. Send me your list, and we’ll discuss. Go get some work done while I deal with my idiot teammates, and I’ll try to call you later. You watching the game tonight?”
“I don’t know. It’s in this time zone, so I make no promises about staying awake for the entire thing.”
“Shame I won’t be there to carry you to bed,” he murmured, and my heart started racing again.
“Dom,” I said softly.
I swore his eyes flared with heat, and then his tongue darted out, licking the corner of his mouth. It was all I could do not to moan.
Muffled shouts started up again, and Dom growled.
Dammit. My thighs just clenched.
“Okay, I really need to get back to work. Have fun with the guys. You know you love them and hanging out with them.”
“I wish I was hanging out with you,” he said with a sigh. “All right. Get to work and send me that list.”
“Bye, Dom.” I ended the call before I did anything stupid, like ask if he wanted to have phone sex or something.
I opened up my Notes app and texted him the list of names I had, then turned my attention to the report I was supposed to be working on. It was due tomorrow, and I’d just received the last few data points I needed. I had plenty of time to get it done as long as I shoved away all thoughts about Dom.
Baby Girl chose that very moment to start doing flips. I smiled, resting my hand on my stomach. There was nothing like the feel of her moving around inside of me. With every day closer to her arrival, both my excitement and nerves grew. I wanted my daughter to have everything I’d had and just hoped I would make a good mom. I’d had a great childhood, and I loved my parents. There was a twinge of sadness that my family was now a few states away, but I didn’t regret moving. It was the right thing to do for all of us.
I rolled my shoulders, trying to get comfortable as she moved around. At least this desk chair helped.
Dom.
Of course, this chair reminded me of him. Sometimes it was hard to reconcile the fuck buddy I’d had on and off for years with the man who rubbed my aching shoulders and watched whatever movie I wanted to while binging on my current ice cream craving. I wanted to keep things as non-messy as possible, but if I was honest with myself, I was falling for him.
Shit. That wasn’t supposed to happen.
Yes, I wanted him like I’d never wanted anyone else—that had always been the case because he was hot and great in bed.
But now it was growing into more and that almost scared me more than my impending motherhood.
I leaned back in my chair, taking a deep breath.
Focus on work.
On work. Not on his gorgeous chocolate-brown eyes or his stupidly full lips that I want to suck on while he cups my breasts.
Damn. It.
I wiggled around in my seat, like that was going to ease the ache between my thighs or something.
Then I heard a ping, but it wasn’t my phone.
Oh, it was my work messenger program. My boss needed something.
Thank god. I could focus on that and not the father of my child who was driving me to distraction.
I responded to my boss on a lead for an upcoming project for one of our newer clients. I was still gathering data to present to them in a few weeks so they could set up focus groups. Time flew by as it always did when I was immersed in research reports and glorious spreadsheets. A lot of people would find my job boring, but I loved it. Solid data was important in order to make logical plans about how to proceed in all aspects of life.
“Come on. Get it in,” I yelled at the TV later that night. I was fighting exhaustion, but the Stampede had just scored, turning a tight game around, so I was invested.
And it had nothing to do with the sweaty interview with Dom they’d aired during the second intermission. I squirmed on the couch. Sweaty Dom, his hair plastered to his forehead as he tried to catch his breath after getting a goal in the last few seconds of the second period, was unfair to my well-being. Dammit, he was so damn hot.
And him saluting the camera after his goal, something he’d been doing every time he scored since my move to Denver, wasn’t helping my brain either.
I was achy and tired. My craving for an orgasm or two had slowed down in the last few weeks, but fucking hell, I still wanted that man constantly. Of course, he probably didn’t want to have sex with me when I looked like a blimp.
Feeling unsexy while wanting to get nailed to the mattress was not fun—not that I could be on my back right now.
Ugh.I dropped my head at my little pity party. But he had wanted me enough to moan my name when he jerked off in the shower just over a week ago. That had to count for something.
What the hell was I doing? I wanted to keep this as mess-free as possible, as I continually told myself. Having sex with Dom was about as messy as I could get.
I smirked.
But it would feel so damn good.
DOM
“That’s fucking right,” Millsy shouted as Sin scored. We were playing our second game of the road trip and currently were up three to two over Calgary. We’d squeaked out a win two nights ago against Vancouver, and that momentum was continuing with tonight’s game.
I tapped my glove against Sin’s and the rest of his line as they skated down the bench in celebration. There was nothing I wanted more than to head home in a few days with eight points. This season had been touch and go so far, and I definitely hadn’t helped with my shitty play earlier on, but just like the rest of the team, I was finding my groove.
And as much as her news had thrown me off at the start of the season, Ally was becoming my lucky charm. There was something about knowing she was watching me that made me want to do my best and get all the points. She looked so fucking adorable in the picture she’d sent me a few hours ago of her in my jersey. Our little peanut was getting bigger and bigger, and stretching the jersey made me stupidly happy.
So happy that I could almost forget about the text my father had sent the other day. Another one of his messages about how I was still looking sloppy this year and that my focus clearly wasn’t where it should be because I was playing house with “that woman I knocked up.”
Fucking prick. He’d again called me an idiot for not wrapping it up. Asshole. Then he’d thrown in that there was plenty of time for kids after my career was over.
Damnasshole.
I was determined to not be like that. I was going to be everything he never was, which honestly wouldn’t take much effort.
“Dom, scoot.” Micah’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I turned to face him as he nodded over my shoulder.
I glanced back to see the empty space where the third line had been sitting, but they were now on the ice.
“Oh, sorry.”
“Get your head in the game,” Millsy said.
“It’s there.” I slid down the bench.
“You okay?” Micah asked.
“What? Yeah.” I took a sip of the water in front of me and twirled my stick between my legs, amping myself up.
When I hit the ice less than a minute later, my father was shoved out of my brain, and my focus was solely on playing the game I loved.
And maybe getting a goal or two for Ally.
For the baby.
Did she notice my little salute every time I scored?
***
“We’re doing this,” Ally said, pointing a pair of tongs in my direction as I held a bag of rice.
I’d gotten home earlier today from my road trip and after she’d finished working this afternoon, she’d informed me that we were going to cook tonight. That we had to learn so we could cook healthy meals for the baby. I didn’t remind her that, according to the books I’d read, Baby Girl wouldn’t be eating actual food for a while.
“Rice is hard, isn’t it?” I asked.
“Penny said this recipe is foolproof,” she replied before she turned back to examine the three pots she’d pulled out. “This one.” She held out a medium-sized pan toward me.
“Do I just dump the rice in?” I asked.
“Measure it first, of course. Two cups of water and one cup of rice should be enough.” She pulled the package of rice from my hands and examined the back. “Wait. Water first. Bring to a boil, then add the rice. Yeah, we can totally do this.”
I chuckled softly. She was right. Learning to cook was important. I was a takeout and meal-service kind of guy. Occasionally, I tried my hand at cooking, but it never came out the way it was supposed to. It was just easier to get a meal delivery service, especially during the season.
“You can handle rice, right?” she asked, glancing up as she held out the bag of rice again.
“Sure, sure.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you.”
“There’s a reason those pans look new.” Then I shrugged. “But we got this. What are we having again?”
“Italian marinated grilled chicken, roasted veggies, and rice.”
“Sounds good. I’ve got a fire extinguisher under the counter,” I teased.
“Very funny. And I can cook; I just don’t really like to, so I stick to easy stuff, like pasta and store-bought meatballs,” she said.
“Store-bought? Rose Lanzi would be horrified,” I said with mock outrage. I had yet to find an Italian restaurant as good as Lanzi’s here in Denver. Man, I missed that food.
“Don’t you dare tell her or anyone else. It’s our secret,” she said, pointing those tongs at me again.
I chuckled and scooted closer to her, nudging her shoulder. “I won’t tell a soul. And we’ll learn how to cook together. It’ll be delicious.”
Was it a trick of the light or had her eyes just flared when I said delicious?
Get your head out of your cock, Dom.
“Dom,” she murmured.
Yeah, her eyes had definitely flared. And right now, my heart was racing as I leaned closer.
Then the oven dinged.
“Oh. I need to put the veggies in. Get on that rice. I’m starving.”
“Me too,” I muttered, stepping away from her to fill the pot.
We moved easily around the kitchen as we prepared dinner. A subtle brush here, fingers trailing there. And my body was fucking tense. She had a nervous energy and I was feeding off it. I ached to kiss her, but would she push me off? She’d been adamant about just being roommates, but I wanted her more than my next breath, and just being in the tight space of the kitchen was not helping my willpower.
She was fucking stunning. Since the rice was cooking and the veggies were in the oven, there wasn’t much else for me to do aside from watch her as she stood in front of the stove, flipping over the chicken with one hand while shoving a few strands of hair that had slipped out of her bun over her ear with her other. Her cheeks were tinged pink, and her shirt stretched over her belly.
I leaned against the kitchen island behind her, my fingers gripping the edge so I didn’t give in and wrap my arms around her, tugging her against my body. Then she glanced over her shoulder at me.
“What?” she asked. “I feel you staring.”
“Just watching you cook.” I was parched. “You thirsty?”
“Uh. No. Um, yeah, I guess,” she said, tucking another strand behind her ear.
Fucking hell. I wanted to run my tongue along the shell, pull her lobe into my mouth and suck.
Shit.
I cleared my throat and stood up straight, reaching for her water bottle that was currently next to her just as she went to grab it. Our fingers grazed each other’s and I swore sparks hit me right in the chest.
“Oh,” she said, pulling back quickly.
“I’ll fill it up for you,” I said, trying to sound normal, but my voice was gruff, and I heard her suck in a breath.
She had to want me as much as I wanted her, right? I couldn’t be imagining this much tension.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
It would probably do both of us a world of good if I just climbed into the freezer and cooled the fuck down. My cock was hard as hell; one glance down, and she’d know exactly how much I desired her. I was going to have to rethink my at-home wardrobe because athletic shorts left nothing to the imagination. Although, with the current state I was in, only a fucking suit of armor would hide it.
“Do you need me to do anything else?” I asked. Like wipe your brow with my tongue?
Fucking hell. Get it together.
“Uh, nope,” she said, holding my gaze and taking a sip of the water I’d handed her.
“Is something burning?” I asked.
“What? Shit.” She turned back to the stove and flipped over a piece of chicken.
I peered over her shoulder, breathing her in because fuck, she smelled amazing.
“Dom, you’re distracting me, and now I’ve burned dinner,” she said, shifting her head to look at me.
My hand instinctively moved to wrap around her waist, my fingers spreading over her belly, my thumb dangerously close to the bottom of her breast.
“It looks fine. I’m sure it tastes delicious.” Fuck, I wanted to taste her.
She swallowed hard, and I was mesmerized by her boobs rising and falling. Not that she was wearing something low-cut and giving me a peep show or anything. Hell, she was nearly drowning in one of my shirts, but it stretched in all the right places. I loved seeing her in my clothes and had given her free rein of my stuff. Hell, I’d probably slipped this shirt into her laundry so she could have it.
“Dom,” she whispered again.
And then the oven timer dinged, and the stove timer went off.
“Shit. Stop. Go away so I can finish this and we can eat,” she said, pushing away from me.
Fucking cockblocked by a stove.
That was new.