25. Dalton

TWENTY-FIVE

"I'm down!"I yell into my headset. "Mav, I'm hit behind the wall at the middle of the map. Come revive me!"

"Calm the fuck down, bro. I'm coming," he replies.

Now that it's the offseason, the guys and I get pretty creative with our hangouts. When we get closer to training camp, the team sets up organized team activities, or OTAs, for us to build on our relationships before the real work starts. But this early, we make up our own ways to chill. Maverick and I spend a few hours a week playing video games. Blaze joins us when he's not with Mads, but if I'm honest, he's trash at this particular game, so I may have forgotten to mention that we were going to be on this morning. He'll figure it out eventually, yell at us for not telling him, then proceed to punt our chances at a Victory Royale into outer fucking space.

Mav's avatar rounds the wall I'm hiding behind and I wait as he revives me. Once I'm up, I use a med kit to get my health all the way back up to a hundred percent.

"Here," he says into his mic as his character drops something on the ground in front of mine. "Take this shield potion. You fucking suck today and I don't feel like coming back over to save your ass again. Might as well be playing with Becks." He mumbles the last part like a dick.

My avatar chugs the bottle of potion just as a very sleepy Dia enters the living room. She clearly just woke up. Her eyes are still half-closed, and her hair is wild as she pads over to me wrapped in the king-sized comforter from my bed. She looks at me with a tired smile and I point to my headset, mouthing ‘Maverick' so she knows to stay quiet. I've said it a million times…I'd tell the world about us right now. But I'm respecting the fact that she doesn't want anyone aside from Blaze and Mads knowing.

She keeps moving in my direction, plopping down next to me on the couch and resting her head in my lap. I reach down with one hand and smooth it over her hair as she lets out a contented sigh. This is exactly what I envisioned when I wanted to have her here. Sure, I enjoy the sex-filled nights that we get to have whenever we want now that we're easily accessible to one another, but these are the moments that I was most excited for. Her walking out of the bedroom, still warm and sleepy, as she comes to find me for comfort.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Mav's voice blows my eardrum out as I look up and see him getting shot over and over. His avatar drops, crawling on the ground right next to where mine is standing. Oops.

I return both hands to my controller and start shooting at the opponent just as Mav dies at my feet. All the items his character was holding surround him as his murderer picks them up then turns his weapon on me. Before I even hit him once, I'm dead.

"You fucking suck!" I yell at the random stranger in my headset.

"I'm fucking twelve!" a high-pitched voice replies, "And a girl. You suck!"

I'm stunned silent with my jaw on the floor as Maverick's voice comes back. "That backfired."

"Did you hear the mouth on that kid?" I ask.

He laughs. "Yeah, right after she smoked us both. What's with you today? If we lose one more, I'm out."

The next game starts and I'm already sucking as Dia sits up and grabs the controller from my hand. She shrugs the blanket off her shoulders and sits forward, her full focus on the television screen in front of us. I flip the microphone on my headset up so I'm muted. "Babe, what are you doing?" I ask. "Mav will be pissed if we lose again." I go to take the controller back, but she twists her body so I can't reach it. I look to the screen just in time to see her land a perfect headshot to someone, killing them immediately. My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline as I take the headset and put it over her ears so she can hear what's around her in the game. She's doing better than I was, so fuck it.

Dia is stone silent as she moves around the map, building walls to block the bullets when people start shooting in her direction. She picks them off one by one, only stopping when she needs to reload her weapons. She giggles when I hear Mav's muffled voice coming from the headset, no doubt talking about my sudden improvement. I watch the number of kills go up on the screen as she continues owning every single opponent in sight. And when she shoots the last one and the victory message pops up, she turns to me with a smug look, pulling the headset off and putting it back over my ears. I'm still in a state of shock as she kisses my cheek and wraps herself back up like a little burrito, laying her head back in my lap.

"Wow," Maverick says into his microphone. "That was your best game ever. By a lot."

I unmute myself, clearing the lump in my throat that I always get before I lie through my teeth. "Uhh, yeah. Thanks," I reply. "I have to go. I…have to wash my hair."

He pauses. "Okayyyy," he says, drawing out the word in confusion. But I'm already gone as I remove my headset and look down at my wife.

"What exactly happened just now?" I ask.

She yawns, closing her eyes. "I just came from a situation where I was always alone, broke enough not to be able to go out, and had a second-hand video game console at my disposal. I got good. You should try it." A small smile tips the corner of her lips up, because she knows she's a fucking brat.

I blow out a breath, leaning back and returning my hand to her head. I massage her scalp with enough pressure to make her sigh with satisfaction. "We have plans tonight, so I want you to take my card and go get something to wear." She looks at me out of the corner of her eye. "And before you argue with me, remember our deal. I get to treat you as my wife and buy you whatever I want while you're here. I don't care what you spend, I just want you to feel as beautiful as I already know you are when I take you out."

She gives me a skeptical look. "I don't want anybody seeing us together in public and going into a frenzy about the new woman on your arm."

"I know," I tell her. "I promise you that no one will see us."

She smiles up at me. She's so fucking gorgeous, I still can't believe she's mine. "Okay," she relents. "Where are we going?"

I look to the TV, where the stats from her win still fill the screen. "Not to an arcade. I'll tell you that much."

I look out the car window, getting increasingly nervous as we get closer to the heart of Boston. It's a busy night and there are people everywhere. Dalton promised me that nobody would see us together, so I'm trying to figure out where he's taking me. I can't imagine there's anywhere in this part of the city where fans wouldn't notice one of the Blizzard's most popular players.

My black bodycon dress rides up my thighs as I turn toward him. I spent the afternoon shopping by myself with his credit card. It was weird not buying off the clearance rack, but I made a promise to Dalton and I want to keep it. He's been so amazing, patiently supporting me as I work through a lifetime of baggage. He deserves this experience.

"This doesn't look private," I say. "Looks like you're about to throw me out in front of every Bostonian in existence."

He grins. "I would if you'd let me, Wifey. I'm not breaking any of your rules. We'll be in public, but nobody will recognize me. I'll be incognito."

I already don't like where this is headed. When Dalton uses words like incognito, you know he's got something completely fucking weird up his sleeve. I huff an annoyed breath, looking back out the window as he makes a right turn down an alley between two buildings. I've never been to this part of Boston, plus it's way too dark to see where we are.

He pulls into a parking spot, turning off the car. He leans over, and instead of kissing me like I anticipate, he reaches to open the glove compartment. I can feel his warm breath ghosting along my neck right before he moves back just a few inches with something in his hand.

"Put this on," he says, handing me a beautiful black lace masquerade mask. It's not one of the cheap ones you get from a costume shop. It's soft and thick, and when I slide it over my eyes, it fits like it was made for me. "Even with half of your face covered, you're still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he says, shaking his head as if he's in disbelief. "How do you do it, baby?" The words are barely a whisper, but he may as well be screaming them from the top of the highest building in the city, because that's how they make me feel.

Even though I'm forcing him to keep this thing private, Dalton finds ways to care for me so loudly. Whether it's holding me in silence when I'm processing things, or the way he always knows how to break me away from my intrusive thoughts and memories, I never have to question that he's here for me. It's getting harder by the day not to just take the leap and see if we can make this marriage work for real. But unlike any of the other relationships that have been broken in my past, I don't know if I'm strong enough to pick myself back up from this one if it ends. And I don't want Mads to have to be put in the middle when she's planning events and has to choose which best friend to invite because it'll be too painful for me to see Dalton with anyone else.

All of this is why I'm going to enjoy this time we have left together. I'll never get to experience this kind of connection again. And as surprised as I am about it, I'm glad he kept pushing until I agreed with what he was asking for. Because even though it's temporary, it feels good to be treated like I'm the most important person in someone's life.

Dalton ties his plain black mask over his eyes. It matches perfectly with his white button up shirt and black dress pants that are snug in all the right places. He steps out of the car and I wait as he rounds the back, coming up to open my door. I take his offered hand and he steals a quick kiss before intertwining our fingers and leading me to the back door of the building. The wind picks up, carrying the scent of his cologne, and my mouth waters in response. Everything about this man turns me on.

He pulls open the door, putting a hand on my lower back as he ushers me inside the dimly lit lobby. A bright blue neon sign with Liquid in bold letters stretches across the wall behind a reception desk. We step up as a petite blonde woman wearing a black dress similar to mine greets us. "Welcome to Club Liquid. How can I help you this evening?"

"I'm Dalton Davis. I've arranged for a private booth tonight."

She taps on her keyboard for a few seconds before looking back up at us. "Yes, everything is ready for you. We've given you a corner booth at the very end of the VIP section. You're right above the dance floor. The lights come from fixtures under the mezzanine, so as requested, you'll be able to see everyone below, but they won't be able to see you unless you lean over the railing. It's Masquerade Night, which you already know," she waves a hand between us, gesturing to our masks, "so everyone upstairs will be wearing them, too. We'll send a server for your drink orders shortly."

"Thank you," Dalton says, holding my hand tightly as we walk past her desk, heading straight for a spiral staircase and making our way up to the second floor of the luxury night club. We walk past several booths, all full with groups of people dancing and laughing as they drink. Each one has a blue velvet wrap-around couch and its own private dance floor, illuminated by LED lights.

When we reach the very end of the long walkway, Dalton leads me into our private booth. Unlike the others, ours is separated from the neighbors with a floor-to-ceiling velvet curtain. We're secluded, but as I peer over the railing that overlooks the main part of the club, I see people everywhere. There are hundreds of them on the dance floor, their bodies pressed together as they move to the beat of the music. The layout of the place makes me feel so close to everyone, but we're also safe from being noticed by anyone that may recognize Dalton.

I'm hit with a wave of emotion as I realize what he did for me here tonight. He wanted to take me somewhere where we could enjoy each other outside of his apartment, but he still managed to respect my wishes that we stay out of the public eye. He's always going above and beyond to make me feel special. And bringing me to a club where I get my very own dance floor? Major brownie points for that.

He's definitely getting his dick sucked tonight.

As I overlook the club below, a strong set of hands grabs onto my waist from behind. I feel Dalton's body press against mine as he dances, following the rhythm he's moving to. He uses his fingers to gently push my long hair to one side, exposing my neck. He presses his open lips to my already heated flesh, and when his tongue darts out for a taste, I let out an audible moan. But the music is so loud, it may as well be a secret between us.

"You are so fucking sexy," he says into my ear, making goosebumps rise along my skin. "And this tight little body of yours makes my dick so hard." He grinds his erection into my ass, showing me that he's not lying. I bring my hands up, reaching behind me and wrapping them around the back of his neck, desperately trying to keep him pressed against me. His fingertips dig into my hips as I grind right back into him, loving the way his length feels through our clothes. It all feels so forbidden, but from the outside, we're just another couple dancing to the electronic music beating through the speakers.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see our server approaching. I turn, trying to move away from Dalton, but he snakes his arms around me, pulling me back in front of him. I assume he's using me as a shield, considering the hard cock and tight pants, but it's fine because the last thing I want to do is punch this poor girl in the throat for looking at his dick.

"Can I get you some drinks to start off with?" she asks, smiling brightly.

Dalton speaks before I get the chance. "I'll take a whiskey, neat. And my wife will have a vodka cranberry. Right, baby?" he says, looking down at me from above my shoulder.

"Y-yeah," I stutter.

She tells us she'll be back with our drinks before taking off toward the bar. I turn to Dalton. "How did you know what I like?" Other than the night at Blaze and Mads' house with the wine, I haven't really drunk much here. And I only had a chance to drink one glass of champagne and Dalton's beer that I took from him in Vegas. But when I'm out, I strictly go with vodka cranberries.

The corners of his mouth tip up. "I already told you. I know everything about you. Some I've learned from listening and watching. Everything else was dragged out of Mads, mostly against her will. You had me so intrigued right from the second I laid eyes on you. Even if I never saw you again, I still needed to know every detail."

I try to stop my eyes from welling up. I've been so hardened by life that I can usually will myself not to cry in front of anyone. I don't like to look weak or vulnerable, but I know he doesn't see me that way. He sees me as someone who is strong and determined. Someone who feels emotions and deserves to be cared for. And if I didn't know it before, at least somewhere in the corner of my brain, I do now. I'm in love with Dalton Davis. As hard as I've tried not to let myself fall, it was always going to happen.

"I have something for you," he whispers into my ear as he reaches into his pocket. I look down to see what he's holding, but it's too dark up here. So, when he takes my left hand and slides a thin platinum band onto my ring finger, I'm caught off guard. As I look closer, I realize it's the same one he gave me in Vegas after we said our vows. My stomach does somersaults as I stare at it, glad to have it back, but then I'm hit with a pang of sadness when I remember that my beautiful engagement ring is long gone. It's probably on the finger of some random woman who will never love it the way I did. I hope whoever gave it to her treats her the way Dalton treats me.

I look up, my eyes still brimming with unshed tears. When I blink and one escapes, stopping when it hits the lace of my mask, he pulls me into a tight hug before leaning back to look at me.

"Hey," he says softly. "Don't cry. I just," he pauses, furrowing his brows, "couldn't let it go."

I smile, cupping his cheeks before stretching up onto my toes to kiss him. "Thank you," I say. "Did you keep yours, too?"

He grins, holding up his left hand to show me the thick band sitting on his finger. We look like a real-life married couple. I mean, technically we are.

"Let's go down there," I say, nodding my head toward the first floor.

His eyes go wide. "Dia, I'm built like a professional football player. And this mask only covers half of my face. There's a good chance people could recognize me and we're both wearing our rings." As much as I appreciate him for respecting my wishes, I kind of don't really care right now.

I shrug my shoulders, knowing exactly how to get him to go downstairs with me. "Okay. Well, you can stay here. I'll go find someone else to dance with." I turn to walk away, but I don't get far before he brings a heavy arm around my waist, stopping me. I can feel the heat of his breath against the shell of my ear. "You even think about doing that and I'll bend you over that railing and show this whole club how wet your cunt gets when I spank you," he growls. I keep a straight face, smiling on the inside because that worked like a charm. "Let's go," he says, his voice shrouded in jealousy and irritation. Just his tone makes my blood run hot with arousal. He takes my hand, leading me back down the walkway to the stairs. We've all but forgotten about our drinks, although I'm sure the server will leave them at our table.

When we hit the bottom floor, Dalton drops my hand, only to wrap a protective arm around me from behind as we weave through the throng of people until we reach the edge of the dance floor. The music vibrates through my body, starting at my feet and making its way to the tips of my fingers as we move to the beat. He spins me to face him, his hands ghosting down my sides before he reaches around and grips my ass. We're pressed together so tightly, that I can't tell where I end and he begins.

Normally, that feeling alone would make me want to back away. Move on and go find another faceless body to grind against until I start to feel anything other than the meaningless urge to scratch an itch. But with Dalton, I'm starting to feel exhilarated when I think of how things are between us. While I still can't bring myself to completely surrender to this marriage forever, I'm more than willing to embrace it until our time together is up. He's shown me what it's like to be wanted, cherished, and adored. All things I never thought I'd feel, yet he's given them so openly. He deserves all of that, and up until now, I've been scared to give it.

I look up at him, a grateful smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Take me home."