Chapter 47 Dom

Chapter 47

Dom

“Since coming back from his one-game suspension at the beginning of the postseason Dom Duran has helped his team battle back to end up here in Chicago tonight for the League Championship Series. Demi is on the field with him to hear firsthand what he thinks about tonight’s match-up.”

Demi Wilder from ESPN stands in front of me, a megawatt smile on her face, as the crew passes it down to her for the pre-game interview.

“Tell us what we have to look forward to tonight, Dom.”

“Hey, Demi. We’re thrilled to still be playing and I’m ready to make some contributions out there to help my team take this season as far as we can. The guys are pumped and win or lose, it’s a great night for baseball.”

Tonight, I have an even greater incentive to play my ass off. My wife made the trip. Not only that, but after the game this afternoon we’re getting dinner with my father-in-law.

“We’re eager to see what the Bandits can do with their first playoff run in the last decade. With the series tied at three wins each, it’s sure to be an exciting game,” Demi says, before switching off her microphone. “Good luck out there tonight. I’m rooting for you guys. My dad grew up in Denver and even though I wasn’t raised there, I’m a long-time fan.”

I glance over my shoulder to find my wife sitting with her dad behind our dugout. “That father-daughter bond is really something.” Her eyes track my stare.

“Mhmm. Nothing like it. Enjoy the game tonight, Dom. Looks like you have some big fans here,” Demi comments before crossing the field to speak with the Chicago players.

Jogging over to the netting that runs along the third baseline, I crook my finger at Indie, calling her to me. She skips down the stairs, an uncertain look on her face.

“What’s going on?” Her brow furrows adorably when she stops in front of me.

“Can’t a guy just want a good luck kiss from his wife?” Hooking my fingers through the netting I snag her jersey, the one with our last name on it and drag her to me, our lips connecting in one of the small squares. “There, now everyone here knows you’re mine,” I say, a little roughly from how she affects me.

“Go win your game.” She chuckles against my lips and I feel the vibration of that little laugh everywhere because it’s light and airy—happy. Which has been rare since Indie came back into my life.

“Are you my prize?” I tease, keeping her close as fans fill in the seats around her.

“Sure, hit me a home run and you can have me anyway you want me tonight.” It’s a whispered promise just for us.

“Coming right up.” I step back and hit her with a wink.

We didn’t win the game, but the home run I hit in the top of the eighth helps to soothe that sting. But what helps even more is the look on my wife’s face as we sit across the table from her dad after sharing a meal in a Downtown Chicago pizzeria as he watches the video from our wedding. Both their eyes are brimming with unshed tears.

“I love you,” I say quietly brushing my lips over her temple.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for my daughter,” Samuel says, looking up from the phone.

“No need to thank me. Getting a second chance with your daughter was the greatest gift of my life. I’ve never had to work as hard for anything, but I’d do it all again in a heartbeat, because she’s always been it for me.”

“Either way, I’m proud to call you my son-in-law. Not just anyone could’ve gotten Indie to accept help the way you did.”

“You two know I’m right here,” Indie huffs.

“You’d never let us forget,” her dad teases, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand.

“Don’t you have a curfew?” My father-in-law glances down at the watch on his wrist and gives me a knowing smirk. “You better get going if you want to make it back in time.”

Indie pouts, and it’s so fucking cute it hurts. My wild card of a wife hardly ever pouts, not even when I was giving her shots or she was rocking that boot after hurting her ankle. “I’ll come by the house tomorrow morning for a little while before the game. We can go see Mom together.” She meets him halfway around the table, letting him wrap her up in a bear hug.

Following behind her I clap Samuel on the back, pulling him into a hug as if this is the first time we are meeting. It’s not, but my wife doesn’t know that. At my request, my father-in-law met me for breakfast this morning so that I could fix something that’s been bothering me for the last three weeks.

“Text me when you’re home safe,” Indie says, making her dad scoff.

“Isn’t that my line?”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got this one to walk me the two blocks back to our hotel. You, on the other hand, have to drive an hour home alone. So let me fret, old man.” His response is a grumbled reply I don’t quite catch, but I’m almost certain it’s lamenting how he ended up with such a sassy daughter.

There’s another round of hugs before we go our separate ways. Indie’s arm is looped through mine as we walk down the sidewalk, heading back towards our hotel .

Confidence is never something I’ve lacked, yet an inexplicable wave of anxiety washes over me as we approach the park near the hotel. It’s the perfect place for what I have planned.

“Let’s walk through the park.” Pulling Indie along with me, I have to focus on the effort not to walk too fast and blow this whole thing, ruining all the planning it took to make this perfect for my wife. The wife I know loves me, I silently reassure myself as we get closer to the spot I picked out.

“Look, there’s a little trail there,” Indie says, pointing to the opening in the trees just like I knew she would.

I stop us in the middle of the path, pulling her into my arms so that we’re face to face. “Want to go on an adventure with me?”

“Always.” The simple response comes without an ounce of hesitation and tamps down my nerves.

It’s a short walk to the small clearing. In the center of the open space, there’s a deserted pond and a wooden dock for fishing. With the sun dipping low in the sky, it casts her in the most stunning glow. Other than the swan couple on the pond, it’s just the two of us, and it feels poetic, because for the last three months it’s been us against the world.

Taking both her hands in mind I drop to one knee, only slightly concerned that I might end up with bird shit on my knee. But even knowing that risk, it’s worth it.

“Indie Jane, we may already be married, but you and I have never done much according to convention. But I want to fix that because I want it all with you, without skipping any of the steps. Baby, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I couldn’t go one more day without seeing this ring on your finger, where it belongs, right next to the one from our wedding.”

I release Indie’s right hand and fish out the tattered velvet box her dad passed on to me this morning with tears in his eyes. This ring means more to Indie than anything I could buy her on Michigan Ave.

Tears are streaming down her face when I open the box and she drops to her knees in front of me. With the box in hand, I cup her cheeks, wiping away the salty tears the best I can. “I love you, Indie, now and always. You didn’ t get the proposal you deserved, one worthy of our love, and I’m sorry for that. I hope this makes up for that, but just in case it doesn’t, I promise to tell you every day all the reasons I choose you as my wife.”

She nods through her tears and I take her hand between us, slipping her mom’s ring on her finger. “Perfect.”

“I love you, Dom Duran. I would marry you all over again every day for the rest of my life, with or without a proposal. But this ring, carrying my mom with me all the time as a symbol of our love, is more than I could have ever asked for. Thank you.”

Our lips meet and I lose track of everything but the feeling of her in my arms. We cling to this moment, to each other, to our future. Each caress of her lips against mine feels like that first kiss, filled with a lifetime of possibility.

After everything we’ve been through in the short time since we got together this summer, you’d think it would make us jaded about life, but it hasn’t. Now Indie runs to me instead of running scared. She helps keep me grounded and I like to think I make the hard stuff a little easier on her.

When we break apart, the sun is below the tree line and I’m cutting it close to the very curfew her father mentioned and even if I wasn’t, my wife is still wearing our last name on her back, my rings on her finger and I want nothing more than to get her alone.

Is pairs speed walking an Olympic sport? Because I think we might have just earned a gold medal. Not even five minutes after leaving the park, I have Indie pressed against the cool metal wall of the elevator.

My mouth works down the column of her throat, devouring her like a starved man. Let me say, on record, that I’m not complaining, but I haven’t been able to properly fuck my wife since we’ve been married. And right now, with her in my jersey after re-proposing, my dick is about to rip through my pants to get to her. Couple that with the incentive she gave me if I hit a home run and I’m a fucking goner.

With each ding of the elevator climbing a floor, it gets harder not to hit that red button and slide inside her, here and now. That last chime echoes like a bullet going off and I lift her by her waist, her legs winding around me as we make our way to our room. Her hands are in my hair and her lips find my neck.

Fumbling my key over the sensor it slips from my hand but by some miracle the light turns green. I push through the door, kicking the key inside and letting the door slam shut.

There’s a thud as Indie’s back hits the wall but my wife just groans when I press her against the wall with my pelvis. “I’ve been thinking about all the different ways you could have me tonight since that homer hours ago.”

“That must have made for a very long night. Especially since I still haven’t decided how I want you.” I pop the button on her jeans, dragging the zipper down slowly as I kiss her neck. Lowering her to the floor I peel the jeans down her long legs as she helpfully toes off her white sneakers.

Taking my time I slide my hands back up her legs, stopping where her jersey meets the tops of her thighs. I pinch the fabric of her jersey between my fingers. “Undo the buttons for me, but leave it on while I decide how I want to fuck you.” My voice is gruff and demanding, in complete opposition to how I sit at her feet.

Her eyes fall to the buttons as she works them free, one by one. Each one that comes undone is the most exquisite form of torture and with my hands still on the backs of her legs, I can tell it has the same effect on her. Goosebumps blossom across her stomach and heat radiates off her as undoes the last one.

“Fuck, Baby, you’re stunning.” Brushing my thumbs over her hip bones, I split the jersey. All the bruising has faded, the shots, the appointments, the procedure is nothing more than a memory. With her in nothing more than a few scraps of dark teal lace, it’s easy to forget that she still has another round of stimulation and retrieval before her upcoming surgery. “It almost seems a shame to bend you over this desk and take you from behind.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath that makes her stomach cave in as I kiss a path up her torso, coming to my full height in front of her. Dark curls fan out, tickling my chin as I spin her around in my arms and walk towards the desk. My hands don’t leave her body, finding the swell of her breast and the curve of her hip. Neither does my nipping at the crook of her neck and dragging a soft moan out of her on the way.

Both of us are breathing hard, panting from how badly we need this. I thread my fingers through hers and place them palm down on the desk. “Stay like that while I look at my wife and decide if this is how I want her.”

Glazed over brown eyes find me over her shoulder as I step back. Ignoring the pull to be close to her, I run my hand over my jaw and I take her in. Dark curls stick out in all directions, swollen red lips from kissing on the ride up here, those five letters sewn on her back, but the thing I can’t tear my eyes from is that ring on her finger. The one that should have been there from day one.

My wife is wild, a force of nature, and she looks it right now, her legs spread and her hands on the desk as she waits for me to decide how to fuck her. “Is this how you want me?” It’s a dare, a test of my willpower.

“Hard to say.” I step in close again, my hands going to her waist, and my fingers dipping under the teal lace riding high on her hips. “I think I need a closer look. Take these off and sit on the desk for me.”

Desire slashes through me when she presses her hips back, the globes of her ass brushing over the hard length of me as she shimmies out of her undies. She reaches back, sliding them in my pocket and spins so she’s facing me.

Climbing on to the desk, she bats her eyelashes and asks, “Like this?” This woman is toying with me, sitting on the desk, naked from the waist down, her knees pressed together. So much has changed since we met, but this hasn’t. And hope it never does, she still loves to give me a hard time every chance she gets.

“Spread your legs, wife. Show me how wet you are waiting for my cock.”

Not one to back down, Indie pins her plump lip between her teeth and smooths both hands down her thighs, stopping when she gets to her knees and parting her legs for me. Keeping those big brown eyes glued to me the whole damn time.

Without missing a beat she covers her pussy with her hand blocking my view and slips a finger inside her heat. Her breath shudders as she pumps it in and out a few times her eyes roll back. One of us whimpers at the suctioning sound it makes when she pulls it away and I couldn’t even tell you who made the desperate noise.

My fingers circle her wrist, holding her hand captive and lowering my head to suck the slick digit into my mouth. This time I’m certain it’s me that makes the appreciative sound. How could it not be? I’ve spent more time on my knees for this woman. She’s the prayer on my lips each night, the cause I fight for, my whole damn universe. And she tastes like heaven on my tongue.

“This is a start. Maybe I’ll camp out here between your legs for a while, getting my fill and then take you on the bed, that perfect ass up in the air, before I strip you bare and make love to you the way I’ve been dying to since the moment you said I do.”

“Less talking, more doing.” She sucks on her cheek, her eyes lit with the thrill of this game we play with each other.

“Would you like a hand necklace to go with that mouth? Or maybe I’ll stuff your mouth full of my fingers so you can’t interrupt my meal.”

“If that’s meant to be a threat, it’s not working.” Opening her legs up wider, she leans back, nodding toward the floor. “Unless you’re waiting for me to leave a puddle on this desk, so the hotel staff knows exactly what we got up to.”

“Fuck me,” I say, once again I find myself on my knees for my wife. With one hand between her legs, the other wraps around the slender column of her neck and holds her like that, zeroing in on the spot that makes her clamp down on my fingers.

“Oh god, Dom,” she whimpers, her hand covering mine, holding it there as her pulse pounds under my grip. “I need you,” she pants, her body shaking now like she’s trying to hold out.

With one last long languid lick, I remove my fingers from her hot center and lift her from the desk carrying her to the bed. “Ass up. Show me how badly that pussy wants to be filled.” I make a show of slowly undressing as she gets into position, her face turned to the side so she can watch.

It’s obscene, wild curls sticking to her face, my jersey riding up her back, swollen sex on display for me. And she’s just as affected as I am, her chest heaves with the effort to keep it together just waiting to be filled .

“Please.” It’s a plea that I can’t ignore. Fisting my cock, my knees hit the end of the bed. Her back arches that whimpered cry, turning into a feral moan when I run my knuckles over her dripping seam.

“Please what?” I ask, my fingers kneading the flesh of her ass.

When she doesn’t tell me what she needs, my hand comes down on her cheek, spurring her to cry out, “Fuck me.”

“Was that a request or a reaction?”

“Both,” she whines, pressing into the palm of my hand as it smooths over the red mark.

“Good, because I need to be inside you.”

“Condom.” She reminds me when my crown brushes over her center. There’s a flash of sadness in her eyes.

“It’s keeping you safe. So you can be old and wrinkly with me,” I whisper, pushing the hair off her shoulder, where her jersey is sliding down her arm, and kiss the tattoo that wraps over it.

“Just hurry,” is her unsteady reply as I rush to grab the foil packet from my duffle bag.

Once I’m covered, my hand wraps around her hip and I sink inside her, groaning at the feel of her hugging my cock. “So good. So perfect. Fuck, I missed this.”

“Yes. Give me every inch of you.”

That’s not a request I plan to deny. “Baby, I’m going to need you to help me get you there so I can flip you over and make love to you.”

“Teamwork makes the dream w-work.” The joke is muffled by the way her face is pressed to the mattress as her fingertips brush against where we are rooted together. With her hand working between her legs, it only takes a few deep thrusts before the telltale sign of her release starts. Red lips part on a moan and her legs tremble, struggling to hold her position.

When I’ve rung every drop of pleasure from her, I pull out, easing her on to her back and peeling the jersey off her sticky body.

“You’re too far away.” Grabby hands reach out for me as I toss her jersey to the side.

“I want to see you wearing nothing but my ring. Take the bra off,” I tell her, pushing the strap down her shoulder.

Her fingers work the clasp, and her breasts spill free, giving me exactly what I wanted. Her palms flatten against the white sheets and she pushes herself up to sitting. “I think I’ve let you be bossy for long enough. Come sit against the headboard and hold me while I make love to my husband.”

Just like that, she flips our dynamic and I’m crawling up the bed to her. Which tracks because I’d crawl over broken glass for this woman. Although I’d much prefer our current situation with her naked nipples pebbled, ready to straddle my lap and ride me while I tell her how much I love her. “Never going to say no to that.”

Finding her hips, my hands coast over them, wrapping around her to hold her close, like she asked, while she sinks down on my length.

“Always so perfect,” Indie sputters as she stretches around me, taking me slowly.

With each shallow thrust, she takes more of me and her perky tits bounce in my face, taunting me. Drawing closer I pull one peeked tip in my mouth, sucking. That only makes Indie throw her head back, arching into me, pressing closer.

Releasing her from my mouth, I kiss across her chest to the other side, my lips pressing against her wildly beating heart. “You own every piece of me. I love you, Indie.”

Her arms that are braced on my shoulders move so her fingers are in my hair, angling my head up so I’m looking into her adoring eyes. “And my heart only beats for you.”

To most people, our marriage probably seems rushed, but I’ve been waiting to hear those words from this woman for the last year. And there was a time when I didn’t think she would ever say them, when I thought her fear would win. Every time she says them I cherish them, the same way I cherish what we have, a love like I always wanted, but uniquely ours. One that will stand the test of time because we balance each other out. There’s a mutual trust between us because we both understand what the other needs. Most importantly, we would both burn down the world for each other.

She rides me slowly and her brown eyes disappear behind dark lashes as her lids flutter shut. “Need more.”

“Your wish is my command.” I bend my knees behind her, urging her closer as I grip her waist and thrust up into her, bringing her down hard. Each punch of my hips drives her higher.

Pain bites into my scalp as she tugs at my hair and seals her lips over mine, kissing me with the same urgency of my frantic rhythm. Her body goes stiff in my arms, every muscle straining when her release comes. I give up my fight, letting go when she collapses against me, both of us covered in a sheen of sweat.