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God, that night, I longed to be near her. I wanted to stand just inches away from her in the elevator, but I restrained myself, clenching my fists tightly to keep myself in check. She's the only person who has ever possessed such power over me, and it frustrates me. I refuse to let my emotions dictate my actions. I am always in control.
Why is it that I can't rid myself of this one thing? This one person?
It’s maddening, and it only makes me want her that much more.
Jesus fucking Christ, get a hold of yourself.
“DOMINATOR! About time, man.”
“Happy birthday, little Liam. This party is on fire. Enjoying your newfound freedom?” Smirking down at Liam, I ruffle his hair and he smacks my hand away instantly.
“Oh, this is more of a casual get-together for Liam’s birthday. It won’t get too busy tonight if you want to make some mistakes,” says the redhead draped across Liam’s chest as she gives me a coy smile.
My initial reaction is to say something snarky, but I bite my tongue, giving her a sideways glance as I grab Liam’s beer and take a large swig.
“Happy birthday, Liam,” I say again.
Liam gives me a smile filled with apprehension, his expression guarded, something I've grown too familiar with. He expects me to mistreat his girlfriend, but I'm not that cruel. Especially not on his birthday. Among the guys, I'm known as a wild card, someone who speaks and acts without thinking twice. But in reality, it's quite the opposite. I've carefully constructed a facade, meticulously selecting my words and actions to portray the image I want others to see. The true art lies in controlling the narrative, presenting a version of myself that aligns with people's expectations. I want to be seen as the jerk who goes after women as if it is a game.
A wave of hollering and shouting erupts from behind me before the guys crowd Liam, holding a tray of shots as Noa cradles what appears to be endless bottles of beer. I laugh as I quickly rush over to assist him, preventing any chance of him toppling over and injuring himself with the shattered glass. I’m sure Red over here wouldn’t want her parents’ expensive furniture ruined.
Noa leans into me a little too eagerly as I grab a few bottles and place them on the glass table behind me.
“Thanks, man. I think I saw my life flash before my eyes.”
“You know you can make more than one trip, right?”
He snorts. “Yeah, yeah…I was being a lazy asshole. You can force me to do extra wind sprints if you want.”
“Well…since you’re volunteering.”
That gains me a sideways smile, and I help him place the rest of the bottles on the table. Noa is twenty-five and has been with the Slashers even before I joined the team. He is originally from Finland, and he’s one of the best defensemen I’ve had the pleasure of playing with. He keeps to himself for the most part and likes to keep his private life close to his chest, which I respect. I’ve had to learn over the years how to keep my extracurriculars tightly knit and only show the media what I want them to see. I don’t care if my image or reputation is tainted, but I know some of the guys like Noa want nothing to do with that part of our career. Being professional hockey players means we have to give up privacy, but that is something we all come to accept pretty early on.
“Shots?” Liam asks excitedly, jutting out a small glass against my chest as the liquid sloshes on my shirt. I stare at the droplets for a few seconds before grabbing the shot glass and downing it in one go. My plan to stay sober tonight is quickly going sideways.
“Yeaaaaa, Dom!” Liam screams, following close behind me.
“I think you should take it easy, big guy,” Noa comments to Liam.
“Aw, come on. Let him be, Noa.” Ben, my left defenseman slurs his words as he downs his own shot of liquor.
Right at that second, Liam turns and spews vomit all over one of Red’s friends. An array of curse words and yelps fill the air as I realize these assholes have been feeding the twenty-one-year-old way too much booze.
Looks like I’m on babysitting duty for the night.
“Where's Axel?” I inquire, hoping that one of the inebriated fools will provide an answer. Scanning the room, my eyes search for his distinctive mop of curly, blond hair, but he's nowhere to be found. Axel stands at an impressive six foot four, making him hard to overlook. With his broad and muscular frame, he's easily recognizable.
“Somewhere around here.”
Great. Thanks. That’s super helpful.
“Watch Liam. I’m going to go find some water and get this mess cleaned up.” I turn, but a hand grips my shoulder.
“Hey, Dom…actually, more like Pussy Dominator with that thing in your pants. What’s it like to be God’s favorite man?” Oliver practically spits the words in my face, his boisterous voice carrying over the music.
Ben erupts into laughter, bending over as if Oliver just delivered the punchline of the century at a comedy show. I lean in close to Oliver’s face, and though he stumbles back a bit, I maintain a tight grip on his shoulder.
“Did your mother not teach you it’s rude to stare, Ollie? And if you want to know the answer to your question, why don’t you ask your girlfriend? Those lips felt fucking amazing wrapped around my cock.”
