It’s such a cave-man tendency.
What the hell craziness is wired into my DNA that causes me to actually like it?
CHAPTER 8
Dominik
I smile to myself as I watch Willow. She’s in my home again, right where I want her. Standing beside her mom, dad, brother, and sister-in-law.
Getting her back here so soon was a little harder than I had anticipated. When I dropped her off at Dax’s house just this morning after our very long and very satisfying night together, I had asked for the pleasure of her company tonight after the game.
She’d declined, stating she wanted to spend time with her parents who were flying in.
It was a legit reason, but I also sensed that wasn’t the entire truth. So I’d asked, “If your parents weren’t coming in, would you come stay with me?”
And as I had suspected, she shook her head. “No. This isn’t going to be an every-night type of thing, Dominik. That sort of implies a relationship.”
“No, Willow,” I’d corrected in a low voice as we stood on Dax’s front porch. “That merely implies I want to fuck you every night I have the opportunity.”
She’d snickered, given me a quick but final kiss, and turned for the door. Her parting shot was, “See you around.”
It had been meant to put me in my place. To wield a little bit of power over whatever is between us.
Which is absolutely unacceptable to me.
Hence, I orchestrated being able to sit with her during the game tonight. I would have preferred she agree to come up to the owner’s box with her family, but I was not about to be put off. I had no doubt I could get the people beside her to move if need be, and it had worked out nicely.
But I wanted more than just time with her at the game. Because of that, I had Mrs. Osborne plan a party at my new house for tonight, then sent an email that I expected the team and their families to be there so we can all celebrate the start of the playoffs together.
It was total bullshit. I only wanted to get Willow into my house this evening. Once I got her there, I didn’t intend to let her leave. But a party is always a fun time and Mrs. Osborne went all out with the catering. It also helps we trounced the Seattle Storm tonight—7-1—which has everyone in a jubilant mood.
Me more so than anyone else because not only did my team win, but Dax also showed up with his parents and—more importantly—his sister in tow.
So far, I’ve ignored her. Some of the players are aware of my interest in her as I’ve point blank made no secret of it when I’m around her brother, having repetitively hounded him for help in getting through to her when she wouldn’t respond. I’m sure that’s filtered through the locker room, juicy gossip and all. Plus, anyone with half a brain who’d been at the rookie party where I first met Willow saw my interest in her, and I like to think my players are pretty damn smart.
Now, I have no clue what her parents think. I’m sure the actions I took to sit beside Willow at the game probably spoke volumes. Unfortunately, they probably have romantic notions. They see a man trying to court their daughter when what I actually want to do is control and fuck her.
Of course, maybe they are aware their daughter isn’t the type to do relationships, and they have no expectations.
Regardless, I can’t worry about their feelings. In this respect, I’m selfish and looking out for myself.
Someone taps my shoulder and I twist to see Rafe standing there. As of this morning, he is technically off the Vengeance roster and on our minor league team in Rapid City, South Dakota. He won’t make the trip there, though. His waivers will go through tomorrow, and Gray Brannon will snap him up. Our team will be grabbing Kane Bellan.
Obviously, Rafe did not play tonight since he was released to the minors, but he cheered his former team on from the stands. He’s flying out tomorrow to his hometown of Raleigh, North Carolina to join his new team, the Carolina Cold Fury.
When he extends his arm, I take his hand in mine for a shake. “I just wanted to thank you again for everything you’ve done for me,” Rafe says, his voice a little clogged with emotion. “You didn’t have to, and I realize this put the team at risk.”
“I was glad to help you out,” I reply humbly.
“Yeah…” he says, seeming almost awed. “You are glad to help out. That makes you different. So while I’m grateful to be able to have this time with my dad, I’m extremely upset about leaving the Vengeance. I always felt like it was family, and what you did validated that feeling.”
And shit… his words cause an unpleasant feeling in my chest. Pain-in-the-ass emotions.
Clearing my throat, I change the subject to something a bit easier to discuss. “You ready to go tomorrow?”
Rafe nods. “Spent most of the day packing. Movers will be coming later in the week to get my stuff, but it’s going right into storage. I’ll be staying at my parents’ house until—”
He cuts the sentence off cold. It’s obvious what would have come next had the thought not been too horrible to finish.
Until his father dies.
“Was he happy you’re coming home?” I ask.
Rafe laughs, ruefully shaking his head. “No. He wanted me to stay here and see it through. He’s always been that way when it came to my hockey career. But he also understands why I’m not, and he’s as grateful as I am that you managed to get me on the Cold Fury. Now, I’ll at least have my job, which will help me keep my sanity.”
I give him a mischievous smile. “Well, you won’t be winning the Cup with that team, so you are sacrificing quite a bit.”
Chuckling, Rafe leans in after surreptitiously glancing around. “Listen… tomorrow, I’ll be an official member of the Cold Fury, which means my support and die-hard loyalty will be with them. But, for tonight, let me just tell you… I think this team is going to go all the way.”
I give his shoulder a squeeze. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. We’re going to miss you.”
“Going to miss y’all, too,” he replies gruffly, scanning the room. “This party is great. Gives me a chance to say my goodbyes to everyone.”
“If you ever want to come back…” I say, letting the notion hang in the air. “Just give Christian a call, okay? We’ll see what we can work out.”
“Thank you, Dominik.” We shake hands again, then Rafe melts into the crowd for what I’m sure is going to be a lot of emotional farewells.
I decide to make the rounds, ensuring I talk to every single player and the family they dragged along. I want to be known as the team owner who is always available for anything they might need.
I manage to avoid Willow for almost an hour. It’s not done with any ill intent. I just spent the better part of three hours with her and her family at the game, and I don’t want to spook her. While Willow puts up with some of my domineering ways because I amuse her, I have a feeling if she ever feels too cornered, she’ll bolt on me.
I’m not ready to lose when I haven’t even fully gotten into the race.
But when I notice people starting to pack it in for the night, I decide I better up my game and make my demand she spend the night. Glancing around the great room, I don’t see her. For a moment, I panic that she slipped out while I wasn’t paying attention, but then I notice her parents, Dax, and Regan inching toward the front door.
I make my way there, weaving in and out of people and avoiding eye contact so I’m not waylaid. I reach them just as they enter the foyer.
“Are you leaving?” I call to get their attention.
Willow’s parents smile graciously. I’ve enjoyed my time around Linda and Calvin Monahan, particularly watching their excitement as they watched Dax play tonight.
“It’s getting a little late for us old-timers,” Calvin says as he sticks his hand out. “But thank you for inviting us.”
“And we’re heading out, too,” Regan adds. “I have an early shift.”
Dax doesn’t say a word, but at least his trademark glare is absent.
Bu
t I like needling him, so I force conversation. “Where’s your sister? She already head out?”
Irritation flashes across his face, but then his lips curve up in what I’d deem a sinister smile. “Actually… she wanted to stay out for a bit. Said she’ll get an Uber home. Last I saw her, Wylde was doing a good job of keeping her entertained.”
That gives me pause. In fact, I whip around to see if I can locate them. While Willow promised me exclusivity last night, it doesn’t mean I like the thought of Wylde hitting on her. There’s a reason he’s considered the playboy of the team.
When I return my gaze to Dax, he’s smirking.
Asshole.
But I don’t play his game, instead turning back to his parents. “You two are welcome in the owner’s box for any game you come to in the playoffs, whether it’s home or away. Okay?”
“You’re way too kind,” Linda Monahan exclaims.
“Safe travels back to Michigan,” I say before bending to kiss Regan’s cheek, which I’m sure Dax will hate. “Great hanging with you at the game.”
“Thanks, Dominik,” she replies.
I lift my gaze to Dax where he stands behind Regan. I’m not teasing or trying to get a rise out of him now. “Great game, Dax. You’re a true leader on this team, and we’re lucky to have you.”
He’s taken aback, which I get a little satisfaction from. But he gives me a slow nod of acknowledgment, “Thank you.”
With a final nod at the Monahans, my intention is to find Willow and stop whatever mojo Wylde might be throwing her way. In addition to being controlling, I’m also very proprietary.
I stroll through my house, not stopping to make conversation but not ignoring anyone who addresses me. Therefore, it takes me a good fifteen minutes before I find Willow on the back patio in the midst of an intimate conversation with Wylde.
Chairs angled toward one another, heads bent in close, Willow sips on a glass of wine as Wylde palms a beer.
My hackles rise instantly.
Far more aggressively than they should.
Willow has promised herself to me and nowhere in my world does conversation mean anything more than conversation.
Except I think what’s bothering me is she seems enthralled in their conversation.
We don’t have that—Willow and me.
We have sex, which is what we agreed on and for some reason, those grapes taste really sour right now.
When they notice my approach, they go silent. Wylde lifts his chin. “Great party, Dominik. Perfect way to start the playoffs, but you could have invited some puck bunnies.” He waggles his eyebrows.
That Wylde is making a flat-out lewd reference to hooking up with other women right in front of Willow should appease me. But I’d never felt threatened he’d take her from me sexually.
What I am threatened about is he seems interested in her mind, and, moreover, that she’s chosen to share it with him.
Willow only smiles passively, not appearing offended at the interruption. I study her, wondering if she’d put up a fight if I yanked her out of the patio chair and tossed her over my shoulder. Ignored all my guests to haul her off to bed.
I’m thinking yes.
“Welp,” Wylde says, exaggerating the word as he rises from his chair. It must be clear he’s now the third wheel. “I think I’m going to hit The Sneaky Saguaro. Check out the action.”
I finally give him my attention, reaching out to shake his hand. “Great game, Wylde. And I’m glad you could drop by tonight.”
He nods before shooting Willow a smile. “Nice talking to you, Willow.”
“Likewise,” she murmurs.
Silently, we watch him cross the patio and head into the house.
When the door closes behind him, I sink into the chair Wylde vacated. “Your family left a little while ago. They said you were planning to hang out.”
“Yup,” she replies, then takes a delicate sip of wine.
“Would that by any chance include plans to stay the night with me?” I ask, giving her a charming grin. This morning, she’d said she wasn’t going to, but given the fact she’s still here and her ride isn’t, I’m hopeful.
Willow appraises me before answering. “I wasn’t going to, but then a job came up in Ottawa. I decided to take it, so I’ll be leaving soon.”
“What’s the job?” I ask, aware she’s a photojournalist but not knowing much past that.
“Oh, there’s some major student protests going on over a tuition hike. Apparently, thousands will be marching the day after tomorrow.”
Sounds dull to me.
“They’re worried about riots so in case it turns into more than just a march, the AP contracted me to take photos.”
Riots? “Is that dangerous?”
Willow shrugs. “Probably not. I mean… it’s a bunch of college students, right?”
“I guess,” I murmur, disappointed Willow will soon be leaving. “So… you’ll stay tonight?”
“Sure,” she replies. “I mean… why not?”
“Try not to sound so enthusiastic,” I reply dryly, and Willow laughs.
At least there’s that.
“Admit you had fun tonight.” It catches her by surprise, if her eyebrows shooting up are any indication. “Sitting together during the game and celebrating great plays with high fives—all while wanting to just kiss the fuck out of each other.”
“I most certainly didn’t want to kiss you during the game,” she says primly. It immediately makes me resolve to prove her wrong at the next game she comes to.
“What about now?” I ask. “Want me to kiss you?”
Her smile is sly. “Maybe.”
I’ve got a million different places I want to kiss her, and I expect I’ll be spending a good bit of time with my mouth between her legs.
“When are you coming back from Canada?” I ask, tapping my fingers on the arm of the chair.
“Unless things get hairy with the disgruntled students, I expect I’ll be at game three in Seattle. I’ll probably fly directly there.”
She’ll be gone for four days. It sucks, but I’ll survive.
“I invited your parents to sit in the box with me during any of the games,” I tell her, needing to extend the same invitation to her. “I’d love for you to join me for game three, but, more than that, I’d love for you to stay with me that night. I got a luxury hotel suite in Seattle with its own patio jacuzzi. Imagine the things we could do in it.”
“I imagine after four days without each other, we’d break it,” she says, and I love that answer more than any other she’s given me. That means she’s going to be missing me as much as I’ll be missing her.
And I dare not even ruminate about what that means.
CHAPTER 9
Dominik
The rules of mediation require us to meet in a neutral location. The place we’d agreed upon is a conference room in a downtown Phoenix hotel. Representing the Vengeance organization on one side of the long table sits myself, our attorney Fred Gruber, Christian Rutherford in his capacity as the general manager and the three individually named defendants, Dax Monahan, Erik Dahlbeck, and Sebastian Parr, who is our director of merchandising. All three are the victims of false accusations, which were made by the woman directly opposite me.
Nanette Pearson is nothing like I’d envisioned. She had been described by our attorney as a manipulative sex siren who masterfully set up three of my employees for a sexual harassment lawsuit in order to get a big payout.
The woman is very pretty, no doubt. But her own attorney has clearly had a hand in her “transformation”. Hair swept into a low-key bun, minimal makeup, and a drab black suit with a blouse underneath buttoned all the way up completes her ensemble. The piece de resistance is the strand of pearls at her throat.
She looks every bit the meek, humble victim she’s been portraying herself as since she filed this lawsuit. According to her, Erik, Dax, and Sebastian lured her into sexual relationships with the promise she’d receive som
ething valuable in return from the Vengeance team. What she expects those “returns” to be is unclear, and I’m interested to hear their thought process today. However, it’s only for my own amusement. I’m not going to believe a fucking thing she says because I fully trust my guys.
She’s in it for the money and nothing else. Granted, Dax did in fact sleep with her, but there’s no law or rule against that. He wasn’t representing the organization in any official capacity, and he had no power or authority to make her any promises. Erik swears he never touched her, and Sebastian reported her directly to Christian after she tried to offer him oral sex in a job interview. She claims Sebastian demanded it from her in exchange for a job, but I don’t believe it. If that were the case, why would he have left his office immediately after and went directly to Christian to inform him about what happened?
Bottom line, I know these men.
They are my men and my loyalty is to them. Not to mention, through extensive investigation and interviews, we’ve been able to confirm this Nanette is plain batshit crazy and always coming up with get-rich-quick schemes. On top of that, she has a criminal history of petty theft and forgery. I’d stack her credibility against my guys any day of the week.
Regardless, the mediation today is simply an attempt to see if we can settle the matter. It’s something the courts prefer for expediency.
Prior to today, Fred Gruber had met with us to explain the process and what would occur. First, there would be a presentation by Nanette’s attorney to lay out their case and why they believe she’s entitled to compensation. Then Fred would have his chance to detail our defense and why we believe she’s not entitled to anything. After their speeches, a neutral mediator will supposedly work their magic to enter us into negotiations and agree upon a sum that is fair to all sides.
Fred had ordered us to keep our mouths shut, our expressions bland, and our tempers under control. It’s going to be hard to do, that’s for sure. Especially listening to this woman tell lies, knowing she expects me to reach into my wallet to hand her money.
Dominik Page 6