If You Need Me (The Toronto Terror Series)

The two-minute drive is fraught with an exceptional amount of sexual tension. All the time and energy I’ve spent hating Dallas, every time I organized a promo op specifically to torment him the way he used to do to me, now seems callous and vindictive. It feels petty and small. I spent years believing he’d set me up on purpose as a prank meant to entertain his friends.

“You never tried to explain,” I say softly. My throat is tight, and my feelings are on fire.

He nods after a moment. “I realized that until I’d given you a reason to believe I was a different person now, it wasn’t worth bothering with. I was a dick to you for a long time—too worried about the unimportant stuff, when you were always the only thing that mattered.” He reaches for my hand as he pulls into the driveway. “And then more recently, it didn’t seem like you wanted to talk about it. So I tried to communicate in other ways. I wanted to earn the right to be honest.”

Every sweet thing he’s done, every soft moment, every bouquet of flowers, crocheted peach, and coffee left on my desk were meant to show me the truth. That he cares. That he’s sorry. That he isn’t the asshole I’ve spent my entire life hating.

The walls I built around my heart are falling. The armor I wore dissolving.

He parks in the garage, but instead of passing by the house, he takes my hand and leads me down the path behind it so we don’t get stopped by his mom asking how the reunion went. New energy crackles between us, no longer fueled by anger and vindication. My gaze stays locked on his profile as we navigate the uneven ground.

Low tones of music and laughter reach my ears, as though someone is hosting a lakeside summer party close by.

Dallas opens the door to the cabin, and I step over the threshold, tugging him along with me. As soon as the door closes, I grab his tie and pull his mouth to mine. His arm winds around me, one hand skimming my curves. I slide my fingers into his thick hair, gripping the strands as our tongues battle and tangle.

I can’t get enough of the soft sureness of his lips, of the way his hands are all over my skin. We’re a frenzy of desire as I abandon his hair and shove his suit jacket over his shoulders. I break the kiss long enough to say, “Get me out of this dress.”

“You’re my ultimate fantasy, Wills.” He finds the zipper and tugs it down, a gentle counterpart to the frantic way I’m trying to rid him of his suit.

It’s dark, and while my eyes slowly adjust, I feel my way through his buttons. As if he can read my mind, Dallas reaches behind him and flicks on the light over the sink, bathing us in a soft glow. Shadows dance over his face, and a shiver runs down my spine as his eyes move over me.

The sweet Dallas who stayed by my side all night merges with the alpha hockey player who will do anything to protect the puck. The same guy who doesn’t hesitate to check someone into the boards is also the man who delivered a baby foal and let me dress him up as a clown, even though he hates them. He takes my hands in his and brings them to his lips. His calloused fingertips glide long the length of my arms until he reaches the straps on my shoulders. He hooks his fingers under them and reverses the motion. My dress falls away, sliding over my hips and pooling at my feet.

“Fuck, Wilhelmina.” His fingertips travel the lace edge of my bra. “The number of times I’ve fantasized about being here with you is embarrassing.”

“You probably shouldn’t have told me that.” I bite back a moan as his thumbs sweep over my nipples through the lace and satin.

His gaze lifts, and a deliciously devilish smile appears. “I hope like hell you make me regret it, Willy.”

I narrow my eyes while I work his tie loose. “You call me that to annoy me, don’t you?”

“It gets your attention, which I always want.”

I pull his tie free. “You mean that, don’t you?”

“This, right now, with you standing here looking like a goddamn goddess, undressing me? It’s my personal heaven.” He takes my face in his hands and slants his mouth over mine.

I’ve never been wanted this way, and it’s a heady, addicting feeling. His hands move to my waist, and one eases lower while the other trails up my spine. He flicks the clasp of my bra open.

This time it’s him who breaks the kiss and me who makes the displeased sound when I try to keep his mouth connected to mine.

He gently grips my chin. “Let me see you.”

I slide my hands down his chest, and my bra drops to the floor. Dallas’s nostrils flare, and he sinks to his knees in front of me. He presses a kiss below my navel and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my underwear. “Permission to remove these very pretty panties?” he asks.

I run my fingers through his hair. “Permission granted.”

He slides them over my hips and down my thighs, and I brace my hand on his shoulder as I step out of them. His hands go to my hips and his eyes stay on mine as he leans in and kisses just above the apex of my thighs. “I want to worship every inch of your perfect, gorgeous body.”

“You’re definitely starting in a great place.”

He nuzzles into my sex, and I’m struck once again by how awe-inspiring it is to have this huge man on his knees in front of me, his expression and his touch equal parts reverent and greedy.

His tongue sweeps out to taste me, and my knees almost buckle at the deep groan that vibrates over my skin. He rises, hands sliding around to cup my ass as he lifts me. I wrap my arms around his neck and hook my feet behind his back as he carries me the short distance to the bed.

He climbs up onto the mattress and carefully lays me on the comforter, his hips dropping until I can feel him thought his pants, hard and thick against me. He captures my mouth in another searing kiss before he starts his descent.

“Wait!” I shout.

He stops immediately and pushes up on his arms, eyes wide with worry. “Am I moving too fast?”

“No. Not too fast. But I need you in less clothing. Preferably in no clothing.” As hot as it is to have him so intent on getting his mouth on me, I’d love a spectacular view to complete the experience.

He looks down at himself and frowns. “Shit. Sorry. I’m on a mission.”

I sit up, adjusting my position so I’m kneeling on the bed, too. “But I want to do this part.”

His hands drop, and his smile makes my stomach and everything else clench. “Yes, ma’am.”

As I unfasten the last few buttons on his shirt, Dallas’s fingers explore my dips and curves. He kisses up the side of my neck. His other hand glides up the inside of my thigh.

“You’re very distracting,” I murmur as I push his shirt over his shoulders and tug it free.

“You’re better at multitasking than I am, and I can’t keep my hands to myself when you’re naked and undressing me.”

He nibbles my earlobe as I run my nails down his chest, appreciating just how hard he works to be in this kind of physical condition. My fingers glide along the waistband of his pants, and he makes a deep noise in the back of his throat. I unclasp his belt, pop the button, and drag the zipper down. The temptation is too much to resist, and I slide my hand into his boxer shorts, wrapping my hand around his length for the first time.

“Fuck me.” Dallas groans into the side of my neck. He cups my face and pulls back, eyes dropping to my hand inside his boxers. I free him, and he makes a guttural sound as I stroke my thumb over the head. I can’t take my eyes off his face, the overwhelming euphoria that softens his features, or the intense way he watches my hand.

I have this effect on him. I make him feel this way. And I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to see it. Him. How he feels about me. It’s so obvious, so devastatingly clear, and I’ve been oblivious, stuck in a past that colored my view of him. Because I wasn’t ready to believe anything else.

“Enough,” Dallas barks. He pries my fingers from his thick, swollen cock and brings my hand to his lips. “You can touch me later, but first, I get to worship you.”

Dallas guides me back down to the mattress and stretches out over me, settling in the cradle of my hips. His erection presses against me through his boxers. He kisses me, softly, tenderly, and then works his way down my body, devoting attention to each sensitive spot, his fingers gliding over my breasts, followed by his lips. He continues his descent and settles between my thighs on a contented sigh. Half his body hangs off the too-small bed, but he loops his arms around my thighs, broad shoulders spreading me wide. His gaze lifts as his tongue finds my most sensitive skin. His eyes flutter shut as he groans. “Fuck, I’ve been dying to taste you again.”

His wide palms settle on the insides of my thighs, and he holds me open as his tongue explores. All that soft, gentle sweetness evaporates, and the reverence with which he kissed his way down my body turns into ravenous hunger.

Awareness seeps in that when he did this before, it came from a place of true desire. This entire time he’s wanted me. I fist his hair and moan as sensation builds with every sure stroke of his tongue and curl of his fingers. The orgasm rockets through me, his name a scream on my lips.

“Yes,” he groans. “That’s it. Let go, honey. These are my orgasms, and I want all of them.” He laps at my clit, soft strokes that make me shudder and whimper. “And that sound. I’ll never get enough of it.”

My pussy clenches around nothing, and the ache inside me expands. “I need you in me, please.”

“I’m not done down here.” He fucks me with his tongue.

“You can eat my pussy again later, but right now, I need you.”

His gaze lifts and darkens. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

I don’t quite understand the sudden shift in his demeanor. He bites the inside of my thigh.

“Cock. I need you to fill me with yours.”

He gives my clit one last, soft kiss and prowls up my body, broad shoulders rolling, thick biceps flexing. “Say it again.” He stops to suck each nipple. Somehow, during the oral-gasms, he must have taken off his pants and boxers, because he’s completely naked now, and his glorious erection drags against the inside of my thigh as he kisses over my collarbones.

“Say what again?” I’m delirious with need, body in overdrive, anticipation making me a live wire.

“Tell me what you need.” He braces his weight on his hands as he hovers over me, mouth an inch from mine, the head of his cock rubbing against me.

I cup his beautiful face in my palm and see the feelings he has for me swimming in his eyes. Everything I’ve missed. “You, Dallas. I need you inside me.”

He leans over to the nightstand and opens the top drawer. A moment later, he produces a condom. I take it from him and tear the foil packet open. He shifts to give me better access, and I roll it down his length. And then he settles between my thighs again.

Our bodies align, and he shifts his hips forward, sinking into me, filling me on one perfect stroke. And the entire time he holds my gaze. Something passes between us, and for a moment, I feel as though I’m experiencing not only my first with him, but his first with me.

“Fuck, Wills.” His eyes fall closed, and he drops his head, burying his face against my neck, lips moving against my skin as he groans, “Nothing has ever felt this good.”

I expect him to lose control the way he did when he tasted me, but he just rocks back and forth, warm breath breaking across my neck. I run my hand down his spine, appreciating his hot-as-fuck body. When I reach his ass, I give it a tap, encouraging him to just fuck me already. But he continues with the gentle rocking. Sure, it feels nice. Yes, it’s intimate, but I’m not ready for that the way he is. He’s had years to understand his feelings for me, and I’ve had half an hour. So I turn my head and do something to rile him up, the way he usually does me.

With my lips at his ear, I whisper, “Booooo.”

His hips stop moving, and he lifts his head, brows slanted in the most delicious scowl.

I fight a smile.

His brow arches. “Are fucking booing me?”

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean, what am I doing? I’m making love to you.” His expression is both incredulous and determined.

“Honey.” I run my fingers through his hair. “You mess people up on the ice. You’ve promised me depraved things with your filthy mouth. And you just ate my pussy like a desperate man. So what I would really love is for you to channel some of that energy into pounding me into this mattress like the obsessed man you are, right now.”

He pokes at his top lip with his tongue.

“Be a good boy and show me what you got,” I taunt.

He strokes my cheek with his fingers, so sweet and gentle. “You’re sure that’s what you want?”

“To be fucked by you? Yes, I’m absolutely sure.”

“Okay. I can do that.” He kisses the end of my nose. “For you.” His lips brush over mine. “Hold on, honey, you’re in for the ride of a lifetime.”

I start to laugh, but it turns into a gasp when he pulls out all the way to the ridge and snaps his hips forward. I slide up the bed and brace one hand against the headboard, gripping his taut forearm with the other. God, he has great forearms.

He cocks a wicked brow. “You want more of that?”

“Please, thank you, yes.”

He drags his tongue along his bottom lip, and his hips retreat. I’m empty for one interminable moment. This time I’m ready, and I tip my hips up to meet his thrust.

“Oh my fuck,” I groan at the fullness. The way his pelvis rubs against my clit in exactly the right way.

Dallas starts a fabulously punishing rhythm, and every thrust takes me higher, pushes me closer to the edge of bliss. It doesn’t hurt that he’s gorgeous, all tightly corded muscles, chiseled jaw, and intense expression. The bed creaks, and the headboard thumps against the wall with every stroke. And I’m so, so glad we have some privacy, because I can’t hold back my moans of delirium. There’s being fucked, and then there’s being fucked by Dallas. He adjusts his position and hooks his arm behind my knee so he can change the angle and deepen his thrusts. His rhythm never falters, and he doesn’t slow his pace. With every gasp and moan and bite of my nails into his skin, he fucks me harder. It’s hands down the best sex of my life.

“Look at you, taking every inch of my cock like a goddamn goddess.” Dallas caresses my cheek, a gentle contradiction to the way his hips slam into mine. “Am I fucking you the way you want?”

I nod. “So good, Dallas. Touch me right there again.”

His lip curls into a satisfied smile that makes everything below the waist clench. “You gonna be a good girl and give up another one of those orgasms for me soon?”

I grip the edge of the headboard to keep from sliding into it. “Keep fucking me, and there’s a good chance,” I pant. I’m on the edge, struggling to keep from falling off the cliff because I don’t want this to end. But then Dallas has to go and open his big, beautiful, dirty mouth and tip me over.

“I can’t wait to feel you coming on my cock, this perfect pussy squeezing me like a fist.” Somehow, he growls that entire sentence.

And that’s all it takes. A few dirty words and hard thrusts later, my entire world spins into a vortex of pleasure. My eyes roll up as sensation transforms me.

“Oh, no, no, no.” Dallas cups my chin in his palm. “Open your eyes, beautiful. Let me see what I do to you.”

I fight to pry them open and meet his gaze as wave after wave of bliss washes over me. I’m drowning in the intimacy of the moment. The emotions I catch and hold in Dallas’s eyes take my breath away.

It isn’t until I’ve crested the orgasm that Dallas allows his to take him under. He’s beautiful as he unravels, body shaking, expression fierce.

He rolls us to the side and hooks my leg over his hip, keeping us joined as he kisses me, soft and slow.

“Hi.” I run my fingers through his sweaty hair.

“Hey.” He kisses the end of my nose. “I did good, eh?”

“At least a seven out of ten.”

“Pfft. Your exuberance tells me you’re a liar.” He’s all smiles, and it makes my heart flutter.

“Fine. You did good. But don’t let it go to your head. Subsequent performances could drag your rating down, so you best stay on your A-game,” I tease.

“I might need to tone it down to my B-game in the future, unless you can temper your enthusiasm.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re kind of loud in bed.”

I try to push him away, but he tightens his hold around my waist. “You’re a jerk!”

“I’m kidding.” His eyes are lit up. He’s gleeful.

“No, you’re not.” My eyes flare. “You don’t think your parents could hear all the way in the house?”

“Nah. Also, please always be that vocal. I fucking love it. And the nails, always try to stab me with your fingernail talons. Especially during sex. I wasn’t kidding when I said it gets me going.”

“Has everything you’ve said since we’ve gotten engaged been the truth?” I muse.

“I’ve never lied to you. Not once since we both moved to Toronto.”

I trace his eyebrow. I have a lot of feelings I don’t know what to do with. “You really want to marry me?” I whisper.

“Yeah.” He nods, and his smile grows sad. “I know we’re going about it kind of backwards, but would you officially be my girlfriend now, like for reals and not for fakies?” He swallows nervously, as though he’s waiting for me to say no.

I kiss the end of his nose. “Yeah. I’ll be your for-reals girlfriend.”

“Thank God I brought my A-game.”

He kisses me, and we start again, but this time I let him be soft and sweet. Because that’s what he needs, and after everything we’ve been through, we both deserve a little tenderness.