“That’s when I realized you were right. I was keeping us a secret for a lot of reasons, none of which have anything to do with you and my brother the way I said.” I swallow at the ugliness I’m about to share, praying it’s not too much. “I was afraid people would think I’m nothing more than a WAG. In the past, I’ve judged women harshly for that myself, and I didn’t want people to think that about me when I’ve worked my ass off to be respected in a male-dominated field.”
Now that I’ve started, the confessions come easier and faster, rolling off my tongue and lightening my soul. “And I was afraid you’deventually cheat because that’s what men do. I know it’s not all men—my dad would never cheat on my mom, Ben would never cheat on Hope, so I know it’s not a sure thing. But it is forme. So I keep everyone at a safe distance so I don’t have to live through that pain again. I never want people to look at me with pity that way. And if no one knew, I could curl up and hide the hurt behind a strong facade when it happened.When, you know? Notif. Because not only did I fall in love with someone, I fell in love with the biggest risk of all—an athlete, a player, with a love ’em and leave ’em reputation. I was too weak to resist you, and you never gave me a reason to doubt you, but my own insecurities made me doubt that I would be enough to keep you.”
I’m gutted empty after laying everything bare, and he’s literally grinding his teeth to stay quiet, letting me spill it all. “You done?”
I nod, letting my eyes fall to the floor again, but then I realize one more thing and shake my head instead as I meet his gaze. “I love you, Dalton. You restored my hope, my faith in relationships, but my trust took a little longer. Trust in you, in us, but mostly in myself. It’s there now, though, along with all the damage that I’m still working on.”
At that he moves across the room to crowd into me. His hands find my cheeks, forcing my eyes to stay on his. “I love you, Joy Barlowe. I would fight your brother for you. I would fight an entire army for you. I’m not asking you to be less than you are, as a woman or as a professional. I don’t want a WAG whose only focus is me. I love that you have passions and interests, though I’m not mad that it’s one I share. But I don’t need you to sit on every sideline and cheer for me. Just a little support is all I want. And I can promise you one thing—I will never cheat on you. Ever. It’s not who I am, and I would never hurt you like that. Last but sure as fuck not least, I love you too. You’re absolutely terrifying, but I love you.”
I’ve watched him, feeling the honesty in his every word, but now my eyes fall closed as I let them sink in to fill all the cracks and jaggedly broken bits I thought I’d healed long ago. I don’t realize I’m crying untilDalton presses a gentle kiss to my cheek, the tip of his tongue tracing up the trail of tears.
“Joy—”
I open my eyes to see concern still filling his dark eyes. “I love you,” I say again.
“I love you.”
I think we say it a dozen more times, each time becoming easier and lighter, and then turning heat-filled until I leap into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. “Make love to me—”
He growls, striding down the short hallway to my bedroom. He doesn’t throw me to the bed, but rather falls to the surface with me, catching himself so he doesn’t squish me beneath his heavy weight and big size. I can feel the hard ridge of his cock pressed against me and I curl my hips into it, wanting him now.
“Don’t be gentle, Dalton,” I tell him. “Make me feel how much you love me. Make me know it.”
Chapter 30
Dalton
“Fuck, Joy,” I groan. I press away from her long enough to rip my sweatshirt over my head and toe my tennis shoes off. My sweats get shoved down my thighs along with my underwear, leaving me in all my messy, postgame nudity. All the while, Joy is undressing herself, throwing her sweater toward the mirror, wiggling her jeans off and sending them flying toward the lamp, and I don’t even know where her bra and panties go. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she’s nude, she’s ready, and she loves me.
She loves me.
I climb over her, and she welcomes me with open arms and spread thighs. Taking both her hands in one of mine, I press them to the bed over her head, and she curls her hips to line herself up with me. I guide my cock into her in one deep thrust that has her grunting gutturally when I bottom out. I’m a lot to handle in this position, but she takes all of me, her walls fluttering and squeezing my length as her eyes roll back in her head.
“Say it again,” I order, gripping her jaw and pulling her attention to me, not just what I’m doing to her.
“I love you,” she recites. I reward her with another deep thrust. “Oh fuck, Dalton,” she cries.
But she’s a quick learner, and soon she’s chanting “I love you” over and over as I pound mercilessly into her. I hold her still, wrapping her tightly in my arms, making her take it hard and fast and deep, until her panted breaths are hitting my chest as she tries to find enough oxygen in the small space between us.
“You feel how much I love you too?” I demand, and she nods mindlessly.
“I . . . feel . . . you . . . everywhere,” she manages to moan out between strokes.
Her hips are bucking beneath me, trying to match my punishing pace, and I create enough space between us to swipe my fingers over her clit. I’m getting close to the edge, but I want her pleasure first, so I fight it off as best I can, delaying the inevitable.
“Tell me what I want to hear as you come for me,” I grit out through clenched teeth.
My fingers blur, my hips piston, and my heart stutters when Joy cries out, “I love you, Dalton.”
It’s too much to bear and I come, too, exploding with her. There are stars flashing behind my tightly closed lids, but I spit out an answer for her: “I love you too, Joy.”
“Shower?” I ask, only half sure I can walk as far as her bathroom. After two periods of hockey and the intense lovemaking we just did, I’m pretty sure I’ve pushed my hips and thighs to their limit. Fritzi’s gonna have a field day with me tomorrow, and I’m already cursing that little silver metal muscle massager thing he digs into my back and hips.
Joy groans grumpily, snuggling into my side with her cheek against my bare chest and tightening her thigh’s grip on my leg. “Nuh-uh, I want to just lay here forever.”
“I probably smell like a sweaty locker room and stinky hockey pads,” I admit. “I didn’t shower after talking to Coach, just changed and bolted.”
She looks up at me sharply. “What’d he say?”