Page 53 of Their Obsession

“Go celebrate with your men,” she pushes.

“Don’t you think people would judge us if I went out there and jumped into the arms of two teammates?” I fix her with a look, but deep down, I desperately want to go be wrapped up in the arms of my men.

“Oh, fuck them if they do,” she says as if it’s just that easy. “They make you happy. You make them happy. You’re all better people when you’re together and you’re consenting adults. So fuck the rest, babe. Go be happy.”

She’s right. I’m tired of hiding and I’m tired of running. I vowed to start a new life free of my past darkness and fears. And that’s exactly what I plan to do—starting right now.

I weave through the now empty rows and down to the employee entrance. I go to pull out my badge but the attendant is one I know well; he’s been working here for the last twenty yearsand is the sweetest man. He waves me through and as soon as I make my way down the stairs to ice level; I break out in a run. The feeling of the cold air nips at my skin, spurring me forward. I can make out the bright lights up ahead, calling me forward to the life I want to live.

“There she is!” Noah calls out as soon as I exit the tunnel and make it out to the rink.

His eyes are locked on me, a warm smile pulling at the corners of his mouth and causing dimples to form on both his cheeks. He looks so fucking happy that I can’t stop my own smile from spreading across my face. I run to him; well, more like quickly walk—this all started with a fall on the ice, and as grateful as I am for where I am now, I have no interest in receiving another concussion. Noah skates over to me, meeting me in the middle and lifting me into a tight embrace. He spins us around, holding me close to him as I bury my face in his neck.

“We did it, Sunshine,” he whispers in my ear as we spin. He smells like sweat and masculine musk but underneath is his characteristic coconut smell.

Suddenly, I feel a presence behind us. I don’t even have to lift my head to know it’s Dom. Our connection is one I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain. His soul calls to mine, like recognizing like. His hand grips the back of my neck in a possessive hold as he leans in. Immediately, I’m struck by the smell of an impending storm. Sandwiched between them, covered in their scents, I can’t help but feel need build between my thighs.

“How’s it feel knowing that you’re going to be stuffed full of champion cock tonight, princess?” Dom whispers in my ear as his hand lands on my hip. Noah still holds me against him, but now Dmitri moves behind me, his touch burning me with the electric energy between us all.

“Remember the deal, Rookie,” Dom says to Noah as his grip on my hip tightens. I can tell he’s barely containing himself.“Tonight, while you fuck her pretty little pussy, your ass is mine.”

Noah growls, the sound reverberating from his chest and into my body. I can barely contain the urge to roll my hips and grind against them. Leaning my head back against Dom’s shoulder, I look up at him with a smile. He smirks down at me in return before leaning in and kissing me. I’m sure people are watching, judging our dynamic. But like Emily said, I’m happy and they’re happy, so fuck what anyone else thinks.

“Ready to go home, Sunshine?” Noah asks.

I look between the two of them, unable to control the wide smile stuck on my face. “Take me home, boys.”

THIRTY

DMITRI

Ten Years Ago

No one touches what’s mine. Call it possessive or selfish or wherever the fuck you want, but when something is really truly important to me, I keep it close to keep it safe. And nothing is more important to me than Lilliana Pettersen. No one touches her. There was once a time when I was smaller and weaker and she saved me. I have never forgotten that day and I never will. I will always be there when she needs me.

Watching Peter fucking Fischer put his hands on her yesterday made my blood boil. I had half a mind to destroy him rightthere in the hallway. Ripping him limb from limb seemed like an appropriate response. But if I’ve learned anything over the past few years, it’s that this pack of assholes is stronger together than apart. Get one of them alone and they crumble like a little bitch. That’s exactly what happened when I explained to Chris that he wouldn’t be going anywhere near Lilliana Pettersen ever again, wouldn’t even have her name in his filthy mouth ever again, if he wanted to keep his face looking the way it does. Luckily, someone else had a similar idea and drove my point home with a hockey stick to Chris’ knees before the playoffs last season. Everyone assumed it was someone from the other team. I have a different theory, one I’ve never dared speak aloud. Now Pete needs to learn a similar lesson about what happens to those who fuck with what’s mine.

Which is how I find myself here. The pretty white colonial house looks completely pleasant from the outside. A nicely manicured yard, shuttered windows, and glowing porch light create a cozy appearance. Peter’s family seems perfect from the outside, but they’re all rotten to the core. Both parents are having affairs. The dad drinks too much. He has a temper when drunk too. He passed on the love of booze and brawling to his son. But from the outside, they appear like the perfect American family. Too bad the big bad wolf has come to call.

My breath gets caught against the plastic of the mask. The entire team dressed as horror movie characters for Halloween last year and I was assigned the movieScream. The irony wasn’t lost on me that Lilly was probably sitting at home watching that exact film—her favorite horror movie, while I was at some party dressed as her dream date with drunken girls that I had no interest in hanging off me. I hook up with others on occasion but it never goes far. I don’t want anyone other than Lilly. Male, female, blonde, brunette—I really could care less because they’re nother. I grabbed the mask from the back of my closetbefore heading out tonight. It serves a dual purpose—to hide my identity to most, but to let Peter know exactly who is holding the knife that will take his life.

Movement catches my eye. Someone’s coming out of the backyard through the gate. No—two someones. One is leading the other, and when they step into the light of the moon, I can see them clearly.

What the fuck?

Why is Lilliana—my Lilliana, holding Peter fucking Fischer’s hand? She looks over her shoulder and smiles at him. My grip on the knife in my hand tightens. She leads him around the yard to a small walking path on the side of his house that leads into the woods.

I seethe with rage as I watch them walk into the woods. My heartbeat pounds in my ears as all the blood rushes through my body—adrenaline and fury making me feel lightheaded.

I come to my senses enough to race after them. Red rage blurs my vision as I fight to stay upright, tripping over my own feet in my hurry to race after them. She’s mine. And I’m not letting anyone but me touch her, savor her, save her. I came for blood, and I intend to get my pound of flesh.

Branches snap ahead of me. I move with stealth and purpose through the bushes and brambles, trailing the sound of their whispered laughter. She’s giggling, fucking flirting with him. A feral sound slips from my lips as my anger manifests into something physical. I push my legs to move faster, chasing them down. Thorns pull at my clothes and my feet sink into the soft mud of the earth but I don’t let it slow me down.

“Shit, baby. Yeah, that feels so good,” a deep voice moans from ahead, spurring me forward. Rage pumping through my veins like a deadly poison that is slowly stealing the breath from my lungs.

I stop when a clearing among the trees comes into view.There, bathed in a soft glow from the moonlight hanging high overhead, isMoy Klubnika, my strawberry. She’s on her knees at the feet of the male I came to slaughter. Part of me wants to storm over there and kill him while she watches in horror. But another part of me, one that is currently overriding the other, is rooted in place, completely hypnotized watching her pink tongue trail the length of his cock. His cock is average, nothing impressive, but not small. I wonder if she’ll be able to take it down her throat like a good little whore. She hasn’t done much with anyone previously, I’ve made sure no one got close enough to her to try, and I always thought that was safe—she was mine to protect. But now, watching her close her pretty pink lips wrap around the head of his cock, I can’t deny the way my body responds. Watching her is completely intoxicating. My own length thickens inside my pants.

“Come on, you can take it,” Peter groans as his hand slides into her strawberry locks.

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