Page 108 of Force Play

“I hate this one,” I grumble as he pinches the skin, injecting the medicine.

While I hold a piece of gauze over the injection site, he gets the next one ready. This one is easier on both of us. It’s a pen, so it’s less daunting and it hurts less.

When he’s done, he removes the tip and puts it in the sharps container before turning back to me and kissing my stomach like he does every time. The hardest part about these shots isn’t the pinch, it’s seeing him take it so hard. This man, who I pushed away for so long, earns a bigger piece of my heart with each injection. He’s made all of this just a little less daunting by taking care of me, bringing my shots, and just being him.

My throat grows tight, and I can feel the tears burning my eyes. The sudden swell of emotion that threatens to take me under has nothing to do with pain or the hormones. I get it. It took me a while, but I finally understand. Deep down, I think I knew all along that Dom was this good, this kind—made for me. He’s always known, and it seemed impossible—terrifying—that he had so much faith in us. When I kept pushing him away. Somehow he saw what I couldn’t and I’m so fucking thankful he never gave up, because I can’t imagine doing any of this without him.

Hand in hand, we walk out of the stadium and across the street to find the girls sharing a banana split. His parents each have their own ice cream cones. I half expected to find them sharing a malt with two straws.

Daelyn makes it her mission to embarrass Dom with childhood stories. And in true Dom fashion, none of it gets under his skin, but that doesn’t stop the two of us from laughing until my stomach hurts.

Dinner is more of the same, but this time it’s Dottie telling jokes that have the whole table struggling to breathe. Hours later, I’m dead on my feet when Dom and I walk back to the car to head home.

“I feel awful that they are staying in a hotel.”

“Don’t. I’m not mad about it and neither are they. After sharing you with them all night, I want you to myself.”

“Okay,” I say with a yawn, too tired to argue with him on this. This man has fought so hard for me it’s about time I just give him a break. “Take me home, Dom.”

Chapter 39

Dom

Blue bruises peek out between the thin tank top and pair of cheeky panties she wore to bed last night. A reminder of everything Indie’s already faced. With my hand that’s not wrapped around her, I rub my knuckles over my sternum trying to ease the ache they cause. Deep down, I know bruises could be the least of our worries, that injections and needle pokes could be part of our future forever. I’m fucking terrified, but no matter what happens, I’ll fight for this woman, for our future, with everything I have.

Easing the blankets back, I move my body down the bed. With my upper body propped up by my elbow, I dust my lips over the bruises on each side of her belly button.

“I’d take this all away if I could.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to confess everything I’m feeling to the silent room when she stretches under me, her hand finding my hair like it always seems to.

“Don’t pity me, Dom,” she warns.

“I don’t pity you. Pity is something you feel for the weak. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing. So this isn’t pity, it’s love.”

She sucks in a harsh breath and I’m afraid I screwed it up by even using the word. But then she does the last thing I expect and scoots down the bed to meet me. She might not say anything in return, but I can feel it in the way her lips move against mine. Whether or not we’ve said it, she feels the same.

I groan against her mouth. “How much do you think Coach will fine me if I’m late this morning?”

“Too much. Go.”

“But I don’t want to. You deserve an orgasm first thing in the morning.”

“How will I ever manage?” She twists away from me, stretching to reach the nightstand where she stashed one of her vibrators.

“You’re the devil, woman. How the hell am I supposed to leave now?” I sound pitiful, and I’m not even a little ashamed.

“Happy, knowing that I’m self-sufficient and satisfied.”

“I don’t like it.” Lie. Would I rather be here watching? Hell to the yes, but I would never deny this woman anything.

“Don’t be jealous of a toy. All my orgasms belong to you. It’s your name on my lips every time I come.”

“Not helping,” I grit out. Visions of Indie coming with my name pouring out of her dance in my head, clouding my judgment.

“Was I supposed to be?” She shrugs. “How about I hop in the shower with you and take care of you the same way you’ve taken care of me?”

“I thought we agreed I couldn’t be late.” I push off the bed. “Besides, do you really think I would come without getting you off too?”

“No, definitely not. Cold shower then?” She looks so damn innocent batting her eyelids at me, still clutching that damn toy which jumps to life, humming in her hand. “Oopsies.” Realizing that it’s not helping, she turns it off and shoves it under the pillow.

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