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Fuck, I want him. I feel suddenly breathless as the need crashes over me, buffeting me like a wave. Watching him skate is hot enough. But watching him win? Watching him dominate? It has the demon deep inside me breathing fire, desperate to show him how well he can be dominated too.
It’s been weeks since I’ve had him all to myself. They says kids change things, and they weren’t lying. Between all the crazy schedules and the travel, I’m struggling to remember the last time I had my way with him alone. Why can’t I picture it? The shower, I think. He’d just come home from an away game.
That flirty wink replays in my mind easily enough—the curve of his smile, the sweat on his brow. He’s all confidence tonight, all power and control. I need him to cede it to me. Need him to remind us both who we are and what we crave.
And I crave that man like I crave air.
My husband. My lover. My fucking soul mate.
Well…one of them.
I groan again, watching the clock tick down.
“What’s wrong with you?” Ilmari mutters, nudging me.
I shift my hold on Tuomas. “Nothing. I’m fine.” My gaze is still locked on Jake across the ice. He’s standing now, gloves and helmet off, clapping and cheering for the team, his smile making my chest feet tight.
Next to me, Ilmari snorts and shakes his head. “Seriously?”
I glare at him. “What?”
He holds my gaze. “You think I don’t know you? You think I don’t know that look?” he adds, pointing at my face with a smirk.
“Shut up,” I mutter.
He huffs a soft laugh. After a minute, he reaches out. “Give him to me.”
I pull back. “What? No, I—”
“Just give him to me,” he says again, lifting Tuomas away and holding both boys at once.
“Mars—”
“If you get caught, I had nothing to do with it,” he mutters.
“You’re a terrible influence, you know,” I tease. “And this is way worse than a little swearing. You’re about to be complicit in a crime.”
He raises a brow at me. “Are you planning to rob a concession stand?”
“More like defile one,” I reply.
He just laughs. “Go, before I change my mind. And before the crowds swarm,” he adds, gesturing up at the ticking game clock.
Shit, I have less than two minutes. People are already starting to flood out while most of the stadium celebrates.
“You got the babies?” I say, letting myself feel a slight twinge of guilt before Ilmari is elbowing me.
“Go.”
I take off up the stairs, keeping my head down in case any fans try to snag my attention. I know this stadium like the back of my hand, and I’ve got my security pass in my pocket. Mars had to turn his in when he retired, so he technically can’t get down to the locker room without an escort. But the guards all know him and they all love Rachel. When they see him sporting double babies, they’ll let him right through.
The final game buzzer sounds and the crowd roars as I duck down a stairwell, flashing my pass to get into the tunnels. Once there, I’m able to avoid the crowds, weaving my way around the rink and over towards the locker room.
“Hey, Mr. Price! Great game,” calls a friendly security guard.
I jog past him with a wave, ignoring the twinge in my knee. Between Hurricane’s strength and conditioning regiment and Jake’s massages, I’ve seen drastic improvement in my range of motion, even if the pain still flares, especially after a long day like today. Right now, I hardly notice it. I’m a man on a mission.
I know I’ve got some time yet. The press will hold Jake back for an on-ice interview. As captain, they’ll want to hear from him his thoughts on the game and our playoff prospects. The man is a PR dream—handsome, well spoken, charming as sin. He could sell a bag of dildos to a nun.
