If You Want Me (The Toronto Terror Series)

“You look so much more rested than you did before I left.” Roman holds Aurora at arm’s length at the Pancake House, inspecting her.

I’m itching to wrap my arms around her, breathe her in, and tell her how much I’ve missed her. Instead, I shove my hands in my pockets and feel guilty for wanting what I want.

“I’m fine, Dad, just a lot on my plate with the gala and finals coming up.” She pats his arm, and he releases her.

“Do you need me to take anything off your plate? I can order my own groceries and handle my laundry when I get back from away games,” he offers.

“I do your groceries when I do my own, so it’s not a big deal. And we both know how you are about laundry.” She slides back into the booth. She’s already ordered for us—probably as eager as I am to get this meal over with. But I’m not sure our reasons are the same. All the things I love about our diner tradition are now a reminder of the lies I’m steeped in.

“I could get better at it.” He frowns. “I should get better at it. You can’t do my laundry forever. I could get a housekeeper.”

I drop onto the bench across from Aurora, as does Roman. Her gaze shifts my way, and she smiles like it’s any other day, like we don’t have plans to go back to her place after this.

“Or you could start dating,” Aurora says cheekily.

Roman rolls his eyes. “Stop sending me apps.”

She sips her coffee and shifts gears. “You really kicked some butt this week. Two solid wins, and against high-ranking teams. How are you feeling about the game against LA on Monday?”

While they talk game strategy, I try desperately not to think about all her messages from the past few days.

Princess

I’m rearranging my dresser so my mirror catches the bed, in case you want to watch yourself fuck me.

I should probably be on top for the sake of your knee.

Unless you’re more inclined to fuck me against the front door. I guess we’ll see how far inside the apartment we make it.

Aurora’s foot bumps my shin under the table. I glance at her. We’re not playing footsies again. Her eyes dart to the table. My food is sitting in front of me.

“You’re preoccupied today,” Roman observes.

“I have an appointment with my doctor tomorrow.” It’s true, but not why I’m distracted.

“Do you think you’ll be cleared for practice?” Aurora asks.

“That’s the hope.”

“Have you given any more thought to sportscasting, or are you still considering coaching as an option after you hang up your skates?” Roman asks.

I rub my bottom lip. “I have at least another season before I need to think about that.”

“You’d be great leading a team.” Roman pats me on the back.

“You’d be a great coach,” Aurora agrees. “You’re a patient teacher, and you’re great at giving direct instruction.”

I sure as fuck know she’s not talking about hockey. “I’m not out of the game yet,” I grumble. Roman shifts the topic, probably mistaking the tension for career stress.

We finish our meals and leave the diner. It’s warming up, the snow turning to brown slush.

“I need to grab a couple of things from the grocery store. Either of you need anything?” I ask once we’ve crossed the street.

“Not that I can think of,” Roman says.

“I went shopping yesterday, so I’m good, too,” Aurora replies.

“Okay. I’ll see you later.” They push inside the building, and I make the short trip to the store. I pick up Aurora’s favorite candies and stop at the local florist on the way back.

By the time I return to the building, Aurora’s already messaged to let me know the coast is clear.

My palms start to sweat when I step into the elevator. The line we’re stepping over today will change things again. For half a second, I question whether I should go through with this. But I can’t deny her after all the shit I’ve put her through. It’s about more than how it affects her, though. It’s me, too. I can’t keep sitting on the fence with her. I don’t want to.

The elevator dings, and I step into the hall. I half expect Roman to be standing outside her door, but it’s bodyguard free—and it opens before I can knock. Aurora pokes her head out, looking both ways before she grabs the front of my shirt and yanks me into her apartment. The door falls closed as she tries to pull my mouth to hers.

I tilt my head back. “Hi.”

“Hi, please kiss me before I die.” She pushes up on her toes and puckers her lips.

I laugh and drop my head, parting when she strokes the seam of my lips. Her hands are already on the move.

I break the kiss and murmur, “Safety latch.”

“Right. Yes.” She releases my shirt and secures the door.

When she turns around, I hold out the flowers. “For you.”

Her expression softens as she brings them to her nose and inhales deeply. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“Just like you, and you’re welcome.”Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

“I’ll put them in water later.” She sets them on the side table, takes the grocery bag, and doesn’t bother to look inside before she drops it on the floor. “I know we have a lot to talk about, but I would really like to save the whole important-conversation part until later.”

“Feeling impatient, are we, Princess?” I stroke her cheek.

“Extremely, yes. And even though I wanted to jill off this morning, I didn’t, because I knew you would be worth the wait. But then I had to sit through that meal with you looking yummy.” She pushes my jacket over my shoulders and runs her hands down my arms as it falls to the floor.

“You think it was any different for me?” I trace the edge of her jaw and skim her cheek with my lips. “I wanted to wrap you in my arms, like this.” I pull her against me. “And tell you how much I missed you.” I take her earlobe between my teeth. “And that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about all the ways I want to make you feel good.”

“I want all those things, too,” Aurora whispers.

“We’ll get there, eventually.” I bite my way along her jaw. We have uninterrupted hours ahead of us. This is my chance to show her exactly how much I want her, to give her what I’ve denied us for the past several weeks. I want to be exactly what she needs. “But I plan to savor every single moment of this. No rushing.”

I tip her chin up and take her in—eyes rimmed with liner, lashes long, full lips glossy. She’s wearing one of the many shirts I’ve bought her for various occasions over the years, and jeans I’ve complimented. If I looked down, I would find her wearing socks I gifted her.

“Please kiss me,” she whispers.

I slant my mouth over hers, and she softens against me. For a minute, she lets me lead. But then her hands begin to wander, fingers traveling lightly down my spine until she reaches my ass and squeezes. “I can’t wait to do that when we’re naked and you’re inside me.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, don’t you think?”

“Thinking is all I’ve done for months, Hollis.” Her fingers travel along my beltline. “About getting my hands on you, exactly like this.” She pops the button of my jeans.

“Tell me what else you’ve been thinking about.” This is not just about distracting her and slowing us down; I want to learn what makes her tick in the bedroom. But more than that, I want to figure out if we’re in this for the same reasons. I don’t want to be a passing fantasy for her.

“So many things.” She tugs the zipper down. “About how good it will feel to touch you.” Her fingertips dip inside my waistband, gliding from one hip to the other. “How much I loved it when you fucked me with your fingers, and how much better it will be when it’s your cock filling me.”

“That’s a dirty little mouth you have, Princess.”

Aurora’s hot gaze meets mine as her hand slips into my boxer briefs. Her fingertips graze the head and gently skim the length. “I think you like my naughty mouth.”

“Fucking hell,” I groan as her warm, soft palm wraps around me. I spin us around until her back meets the door and brace my left forearm above her head.

“You feel so good in my hand.” Aurora’s thumb sweeps over the head.

“Your hand feels so good on me,” I grind out.

My eyes roll up, and my teeth snap together as she reverses the motion. I cup her chin in my hand so I can kiss her again. Her strokes are slow, a gentle exploration. Every time she reaches the crown, her thumb runs over the slit and circles the head before she drags her fist back down. It’s fucking bliss.

Her free hand slides under my shirt, fingertips gliding over my abs and up my chest to circle a nipple. She’s all sultry sweetness as her tongue drags across her bottom lip. “Can you take your shirt off for me please, Hollis? I don’t want to stop touching you.”

“That makes two of us.” I can’t get enough of the feel of her hands on my skin, of her sweet, breathy sighs and her lust-heavy eyes. I pull my shirt over my head and toss it to the floor. Her greedy gaze rakes over me, making me feel like a fucking god—especially with the way her fingers trail over my inked skin, her eyes tracking the movement.

She frees me from my boxer briefs, and one side of her mouth kicks up. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” My voice is all gravel.

Her grin turns impish. “That you’d have a boyfriend dick.”

I grunt when her thumb circles the crown. “Explain that, please.”

“It’s pretty, like the rest of you.” Stroke up. “And thick.” Circle the crown. “And big.” Stroke down. “I’ll want to ride it all the time.”

“You mean you’ll want to ride me all the time.” My fingers twitch on her hip. I want to put my hands on her, get her naked. But I’m afraid I’ll lose control and we’ll end up fucking on the living room floor. Which is not how I want this to go.

She moves my hand to cover hers. “Show me what you like. I want to learn.”

“Ah, fuck, Princess.” And like a neanderthal, I want to castrate every single guy she’s ever touched before. Thankfully, that thought stays in my head.

I lace my fingers with hers, tightening our grip. Her gaze flips between my face and our twined hands as they move over my cock. She squeezes with every downward stroke, loosening her grip as she reaches the head so she can smooth her thumb over the crown. It feels too good. Every stroke taking me higher. Too soon, I’m teetering on the edge.

“I won’t last much longer,” I warn.

“But you can go again, right?” she pants.

“Yeah. Of course.” What kind of question is that?

She nods. “Okay. Good.”

I untwine our fingers. “I need you to stop or I’m⁠—”

“I want to see. I need to see what I do to you,” she pleads.

That’s all it takes. My body goes rigid as I thicken in her hand, and my hips jerk, chasing her touch. I grab the doorknob so I don’t end up on my knees.

When my vision clears, I’m staring at Aurora’s cum-covered hand still wrapped around my cock. “Well, fuck.” I finger the hem of her shirt, which didn’t escape this event unscathed.

Her eyes light up, and her smile is radiant.

“So proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

She holds her thumb and forefinger a hairsbreadth apart. “Maybe a little.” Her smile turns shy. “I want to be what you need.”

“You are, Princess. You’re everything and more.” This woman brings me to my knees.

“Is it my turn now?” she asks as my lips brush hers.

“I think we might need to clean you up first.” I tuck a finger under her chin. “Why don’t you show me all the naughty things you get up to in the shower when you’re thinking about me?”