If You Need Me (The Toronto Terror Series)
If You Need Me: Chapter 33

“We have a slight problem.” Hammer appears in my office and nervously fingers the banana-print scrunchie around her wrist.

Shilpa sets down her coffee. “Slight?”

“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate this slight problem?” I ask. This morning has been a giant clusterfuck. I should not have slept over at Dallas’s last night. But he was so damn persuasive.

It didn’t help that I spent the two-and-a-half-hour drive home telling him in excruciating detail all the dirty things I planned to do to him when I got him alone. I was just as amped as he was when he invited me in so I could make good on all my threats. I can function on too-little sleep for one night, but a whole weekend is another story. And my entire body freaking aches. Dallas is exceptionally skilled between the sheets, and his stamina is unparalleled. I could really use a soak in the hot tub to ease my aching thighs and a five-hour nap.

“Probably an eight.”

“That seems like a significant upgrade from slight,” Shilpa mutters.

“I was trying to downplay it.” Hammer exhales a steadying breath. “The shipment is still sitting in the warehouse fridge.”

“It’s supposed to be there when the foodbank opens in”—I check the time—“three hours. I had it all organized. It was being picked up on Friday, before everyone left for the weekend.”

“I guess the driver was running behind because there was an accident blocking the loading dock, so he was half an hour late,” Hammer explains.

“And the office was closed,” I finish for her.

“I would’ve come back if I’d known, but the driver called the head office and was transferred to Topher, so I didn’t know about it until twenty minutes ago.”

“Shit.” And that explains why I didn’t get a call or any information. This is blatant sabotage. Topher has gone too far. But before I confront him, I need a plan to manage this fuckup. “Okay. We should still have time to get everything to the foodbank before it opens and the women’s team arrives.” Is it ideal? Not in the slightest. But the foodbank is a half-hour drive away, and we can load everything into the back of my truck.

“Technically, yes, but we might need to make more than one trip, even if we drive there separately.”

“Why? How much food is there?” Before I left on Thursday, there was enough to fill a cargo van.

“Fresh Foods delivered the fruit and veg on Friday morning. It’s still in cold storage. But there’s more than we expected.”

“How much more?”

“Enough to fill my truck twice.”

“Well, that’s great and also a problem.”

“I can call Hollis and my dad to help?” Hammer offers.

“And I’ll call Ash.” Shilpa already has her phone in her hand.

“I’ll call Tristan and Dallas.”

Once the calls have been made, Shilpa and Hammer head down to the loading dock, and I pay Topher a visit. “Do you have a personal problem with the women’s team, or is it just me that’s your issue?”

Topher purses his lips and looks like a perturbed Kermit the Frog. “Is this about the delivery?”

“Yes, Topher. It’s about the delivery. You and every single other person in this office who deals directly with the teams who use this arena were aware of the foodbank promo I set up for the women’s team. We talked about it in a meeting, and you were briefed in the weekly emails.”

“I get a lot of emails.”

“We all get a lot of emails. When you got that call on Friday, did it not occur to you at the very least to send an email to me and my team to let us know what happened so we could adequately prepare for what we were facing this morning?”

“It was after hours on a Friday,” he says defensively.

“And yet I received an email from you on Friday night at seven o’clock about rink time. So that excuse doesn’t hold a lot of water. I am trying to bring positive press to the Terror organization and demonstrate that we are wholly committed to inclusivity in the sport and support of our community, and this bullshit you pulled makes us look like a bunch of amateur assholes.”

He tugs at his tie.

I’d like to strangle him with it.

“This event starts in less than three hours. And instead of things going smoothly, we’re scrambling to get everything to the foodbank in time. Think about the headline on that one, Topher, and how it would reflect poorly on the Terror as a whole.”

“I can call down to maintenance and see if they have a couple of trucks.” He looks back at his computer and moves his mouse like he has better things to do than clean up his mess.

“I’ve already handled it. What you can do is call Denise and personally apologize for the miscommunication.”

Half an hour later, Dallas, Ash, Hollis, Roman, Flip, and Tristan arrive at the warehouse loading dock with a huge moving van. Even Kai, the team photographer, has come to help, along with the two staff from media relations who the PR division sometimes collaborates with. We load everything and deliver the food with just enough time to unload and set up. I’m so grateful for the support, but I remain frustrated that Topher is set on making my life difficult, ruining good things for the community in the process.

Once everything is ready, everyone but me and Hammer takes off. Apart from the late delivery, no one would guess that we had any glitches, and the foodbank is incredibly grateful for the donation and the help of the women’s team on what turns out to be one of the busiest days they’ve ever had.

Afterward, Hammer and I meet the rest of the girls at the Watering Hole.

“You look like you could use this.” Shilpa slides a pint glass of club soda across the table.

“I’m parched.” My phone buzzes with a message from Dallas, letting me know he’s picking me up in an hour. “I hope whatever Dallas has planned includes lying on the couch and him watching a movie while I nap. I’m exhausted after this weekend.”

“Sounded like you had a great time,” Rix says with a smirk.

Essie points a finger at her. “People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.” Essie surprised everyone and moved back last week from BC. She’s Rix’s childhood best friend, making her an honorary member of our group whenever she’s in town. And now she’s full-fledged since she’s living in the city again.

Rix raises both her hands. “I’m not throwing stones. I’m just saying he seems like a real giver, and he wants to make her happy.”

“He strikes me as the kind of guy who will always make sure you come first,” Hammer muses.

“Ten out of ten, every single time,” I agree. At least that’s how it’s been since we started having sex two days ago. We’ve had a lot of sex over the past forty-eight hours, even with the engagement party and the two-and-a-half-hour drive home. “But that stays between us. Dallas does not need his ego stroked.”

Shilpa pats my hand. “Um, sweetie, everyone already knows. We heard it with our own ears.”

I flick a straw wrapper at her. “Now everyone knows what my orgasms sound like.”

Rix pats my arm. “More people than I’d like also know what my orgasms sound like, so we can be embarrassed together.”

“I appreciate that.” I hug her arm. “And thank you all for driving up to Huntsville for the engagement party. It was so nice to have you there, especially after the reunion.”

“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

I return the smile. “Is everything okay? Tristan seemed tense earlier. Nate too yesterday.”

She nods. “He’ll be fine. He just has some family stuff, and it’s giving him feelings he doesn’t know what to do with.”

“Are his dad and brothers okay?” I ask.

“Yeah. We’re figuring it out. Nothing to worry about.”

I nod, leaving it alone for now, turning to Tally. “Have you started packing for your move into residence next month?” Her summer has been busy. She’s dancing five days a week and working for me part time.

“Some stuff is in boxes. But the rooms are smaller than I’m used to, so I’m trying to be selective about what I’m bringing. And I found out my apartment is co-ed.”

“How does your dad feel about that?” I ask.

“He’s trying to be cool, but I heard him stressing over it to my mom. It’s not like I’ll hook up with one of my roommates. That seems like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Speaking from experience, I agree that it isn’t the best plan to hook up with a guy you’ll share space with for an entire year,” Rix says.

“I know it worked for the two of you, but the guy I date in first year becoming the guy I end up spending the rest of my life with doesn’t seem likely. I’m excited to have roommates, though,” Tally says.

“It’ll be great,” I agree. She’s disciplined, smart, and has a good head on her shoulders.

A waft of muggy July air sweeps through the Watering Hole as my new boyfriend walks through the door. Dallas looks gorgeous in a pair of khaki shorts, a dark blue T-shirt, and an open, button-down plaid short-sleeve shirt over top. The smile that lights up his face when his gaze lands on me makes my heart stutter.

He crosses the restaurant, and his fingers glide along the edge of my jaw as he tips my chin up and kisses me gently. “Hi. I missed your face.”

I laugh. “You were with me a few hours ago.”

“I know. But we had the whole weekend together, and I spent most of today not with you. I like this better. You should sleep over again tonight.”

I arch a brow. “I wouldn’t call what happened last night sleeping.”

“It was fun, though. Especially the part where you⁠—”

I press a finger to his lips. “Be a good boy and save it for later.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His eyes heat, and the way his lip curls makes everything below the waist excited. “Sorry to interrupt, but we have somewhere to be in fifteen minutes.”

I hug the girls goodbye and leave the Watering Hole with Dallas.

“Any hints?” I ask as he links our fingers.

“You’ll see soon enough.” His lips replace my temple. “Everything work out okay at the foodbank?”

“Yes. Thanks for coming to the rescue.”

“Honestly, anytime. What happened with the initial pickup?”

“Topher happened. The loading dock entrance was blocked because of an accident, so by the time the delivery guy arrived, the office was closed. The call was routed to Topher, and he did nothing. Thankfully, we had enough time and people to help this morning to make it work.”

“Why does Topher have it out for you?”

“Just because I’m me, I think.” I hug his arm. “He and I have never really gotten along, but it doesn’t help my case that I’m involved with you now.”

He frowns. “I made your job harder, didn’t I?”

I shrug. “Your heart was in a good place. You’re a famous hockey player dating someone who works for the team. I’m the unscrupulous woman who seduced a player.”

“Excuse me, I had to force you into a fake relationship to even get you to kiss me. And that was mostly under duress.” He tries to make light of it, but his eyes drop to my lips, like he’s remembering those kisses.

“Stop looking at me like that.” I hold up a hand to shield my eyes. “Your thoughts are written all over your face, and they’re obscene.”

He pulls my hand away and bites my knuckle. “Want to get dirty with me later?”

“Only if you can behave while we’re in public.”

His lip curls in a salacious grin. “I can be good. But only for you.” He stops in front of my favorite mani-pedi place and opens the door.

“You scheduled me a manicure?”

“No. You had your nails done before we left for the weekend. I scheduled us both for pedicures.”

I smile up at him. I’ve never been with someone who pays this kind of attention to what I like. “Yeah, you did.”

His answering grin melts hearts and panties. “You approve.”

“I absolutely approve.” I push up on my toes and kiss the edge of his jaw. He is terrifyingly amazing.

He laces our fingers as we enter the spa and they get us settled in two chairs. Anita, my usual technician, passes me a gossip magazine.

“What’s that?” Dallas asks.

“You won’t poke fun, if you know what’s good for you.” I arch a meaningful brow.

Paramita, another technician, sits in front of Dallas.

“Hi. I’m sorry my feet aren’t as pretty as Hemi’s. I’m Dallas, and she’s the love of my life.”

Paramita laughs. “I know who you are. My husband and son are Terror fans.”

“Oh yeah? Who are their favorite players?”

“My son adores you, and my husband is a Hollis Hendrix fan.”

“Hendrix has been with the team a long time.”

Dallas settles in and keeps Anita and Paramita entertained by telling them how he’s known me since kindergarten. “She was the first person to learn how to tie her shoes, and she spent all of play time teaching everyone else until they mastered it.”

“That sounds like Hemi,” Anita says. “So how did you two finally end up together?”

“I saw some guy making her uncomfortable and couldn’t stand it, so I went over to make sure she was okay. One thing led to another, and I figured eventually I would convince her I was good boyfriend material, and now here I am.” He props his chin on his fist and smiles at me. “With my favorite toe keeper. Always keeping me on my toes.”

An hour later, I have blue toenails and Dallas has kept Anita and Paramita in stitches with stories of all his flubbed promo ops. We grab takeout and head back to his place. “I can’t sleep over again tonight,” I warn as we take the elevator to his penthouse.

He frowns. “Why not?”

I smooth the line between his eyes. “Because I slept like garbage this weekend, first from the sexual tension and then the actual sex. I need to sleep tonight so I can function tomorrow.”

“What if I just spoon you all night?”

“If you get spoony with me, you’ll get a hard-on, and then you’ll rub it on my ass, and we both know what that will lead to.” I won’t be able to resist Dallas or the D. I know this already.

“We can have early sex and be in bed by nine.”

My eyes slide closed. “I can’t believe you’re trying to negotiate sex with me.”

“Is it working?”

“No.” Absolutely yes, it is.

He cages me against the mirrored wall and drags his lips along the edge of my jaw. “I’m desperate for the taste of you, honey. I need to be inside you, and I need the sound of my name on your perfect, pretty lips when I’m making you come.”

“We’re in bed by nine—nine thirty at the latest—and if you rub your hard-on on my ass in the middle of the night, I will make sure you regret it.”

He backs off, eyes dark and smile full of primal satisfaction. “No rubbing my hard-on on your ass in the middle of the night.” He gives me the Boy Scout salute. “I promise I’ll make every orgasm worth your while.” He steps back as the elevator dings, signaling our arrival at the penthouse floor.

I half expect him to get me naked the second we walk in the door. But instead, he cues up one of my favorite movies to watch while we eat takeout. It’s already eight by the time we’re done with dinner. He puts the leftovers in the fridge, and I excuse myself to the bathroom to freshen up.

Dallas is still in the kitchen when I return to the living room. I grab one of the crocheted peaches from the fruit basket on his side table as I browse his massive collection of graphic novels, then flop down on his oversized couch and tuck a plaid pillow behind my head. He returns a minute later and stretches out on top of me, resting his head on my chest and pressing me into the couch with his weight.

“What are you doing?”

“Snuggling.”

“With my boobs?” I laugh and run my fingers through his hair.

“With all of you.” He nuzzles in. “I can’t get close enough. You feel so fucking good, Wills.” His lips replace bare skin. “I’m still hungry. You gonna let me eat you for dessert?” His eyebrows dance, his grin wide and so damn beautiful it scrambles my brain.

I burst into laughter.

“Is that a yes?” He kisses the end of my nose.

“Yes, you can make out with my pussy.”

He drops his head, lips capturing mine as he edges a knee between my thighs. I sink into the kiss, into the softness of his lips against mine. He strokes the edge of my jaw as he rolls his hips, and I’m already panting and achy by the time he starts working his way down my chest.

He folds back on his knees, pulling his shirt over his head before he helps me out of mine, and then rids me of my pants and underwear as well. His hot gaze caresses my body, and he follows with his hands, smoothing up the outside of my thighs. He drops his head again and kisses a path from my soft belly to the apex of my thighs.

And then his mouth is on me, tongue swirling, fingers sliding inside me, pushing me toward bliss with every perfectly timed pump and curl. I can’t take my eyes off him as he devours me, making desperate, greedy noises as he fucks me with his tongue and fingers.

I’m teetering on the edge, holding off, but his eyes lift, and he pins me with that look I know so well. Even with his mouth latched to my clit, his lip curls in a devious grin and one finger slides lower, pressing against my back door. As he pushes his fingers deeper, that single finger slides into my ass. My eyes roll up, and a full-body shudder rushes through me. The orgasm is gloriously intense, dragging me under and keeping me pinned there as I moan Dallas’s name.

When I’m boneless and panting, he shucks off his shorts and boxers, grabs a condom from his wallet and rolls it on, then fits himself between my legs again.

“You don’t want to finish this in the bedroom?” I ask as I drag my nails down his chest.

He shakes his head as he grips his erection and lines himself up. “I want the memory of being inside you every time I lie on this couch.”

“You’re a little obsessed, aren’t you?” I’ve never been with someone like this.

“Wholly, unequivocally, unabashedly obsessed.” He kisses the end of my nose. “I’m going to pound you into the couch now, honey.”

“Bring it on, sweetheart,” I taunt, digging my nails into the back of his neck.

His hips jerk forward, and he fills me with one hard thrust. I moan, hooking my leg over his hip as he pulls back, all the way to the ridge, before he fills me again. He frames my face with his wide, warm palms.

“Keep your eyes on mine,” he demands. “I want to see what I do to you.”

He keeps fucking me, the rhythm as intense as his expression. I see every emotion as it passes through his eyes, ending with the primal satisfaction that darkens his gaze when another orgasm rolls through me and his name tumbles from my lips on a low, desperate moan.

“I love that sound…” Dallas tucks his arm under my leg, changing the angle, going deeper and dragging the orgasm out. I can’t stop coming, or moaning, or digging my nails into his back.

The chemistry is incendiary, the sex a revelation, and I’m already addicted to the feel of his body moving over mine, the way he fills me so completely. But the thing that I can’t get enough of is his enraptured expression, the way he bares his feelings without apology. I’ve never felt this loved, this consumed, or this cared for before Dallas.

And I can’t tear my eyes from his as he reaches his peak. His muscles are tight, neck straining, biceps flexing. For a moment I wonder what it would have been like if he’d asked me out the way he’d wanted to. Would he have been my first? Would he have made me feel this special, this wanted, the way he does now?

All those hard lines and cut angles suddenly soften, and he presses me into the couch, still bearing most of his weight as his lips replace my neck and skim until they reach my ear. They move against my skin, and I instinctively know what he’s saying without sound.

That he loves me.

That he’s mine.

And so is his heart.