Page 9 of On Thin Ice

Damn this man.

DOM

“Hello, Ally,” I said, leaning against my doorframe.

Fuck. She was gorgeous. Her dress flowed around her body, and a faint blush stained her cheeks. I wanted to lean in and nibble her neck, lick the pulse point at her throat.

My hard cock was absolutely on board, and if she just glanced down, she would see how little my basketball shorts hid. Not that it mattered. She was clearly here to fuck, and I never could say no to her.

“Hi, Dom,” she said.

She was fidgeting and looked nervous. Not typical Ally. One of the hottest things about her, aside from her smokeshow body, was her confidence. She went after what she wanted and when she’d wanted me, I fought for as long as I could before giving in.

But Ethan wasn’t here right now, and his ridiculous teammate code didn’t apply, so I gave in to my need to touch her, reaching for her hand to pull her into my condo.

“It’s going to be a very good morning,” I said, drawing her closer to me and shutting the front door behind her.

“Um. Yeah. About that,” she started. Then she pulled her hand from mine and put it on my chest.

I sucked in a breath, and my cock ached to come out and play.

“Yeah. About that,” I said, one hand going to her hip.

“We need to talk.”

I froze. There were no four words scarier in the English language than that phrase, especially when it came out of a woman’s mouth.

“Okay,” I drew out, my hand falling from her hip. “I’m assuming we’re keeping our clothes on for this chat?”

Her eyes narrowed. I knew it was a dick thing to say, but the words had come out before I could stop them.

I held my hands up. “Sorry, sorry.”

“This is a mistake.” Her words were soft, but I heard them, along with the frustration in her voice.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” My gut clenched in anticipation. There was no way this was going to go well. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Okay, I’m just going to say it.” She sighed, audibly, and that did nothing to help my nerves.

“Ally, just spit it out already,” I bit out.

“Don’t be an ass, Dom. This isn’t easy for me.”

Fuck.

Did she have a disease or something? We hadn’t slept together in months, not since that Strikers-Stampede game last spring.

She bit the side of her lip and then her hands smoothed down her loose dress and rested on her belly.

Her curved belly.

Oh.

Fucking.

Hell.

“I’m pregnant.”

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