The Veteran (Dalvegan Dragons #2) Read Online Xavier Neal

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Dalvegan Dragons Series by Xavier Neal
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
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Hurt doesn’t hesitate to appear in his pale blue gaze. “You’d do that to Bella?”

“You would be doing that to Bella,” I swiftly correct. “Do not try to turn me into the cranky corporate villain when you’re the one who refused to close early for everyone to be with their families on Christmas Eve.”

Against his own volition, the corners of his lips smile over the analogy. “Fine. You want the truth?”

“Yes.”

“The total truth?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.” His hands fly up in surrender. “The team was hosting a charity event for the foundation. They wanted to drum up some good publicity ahead of our first game. You were a volunteer and were in the bouncy castle with Bella when I accidentally tripped over the cord causing the damn thing to start to deflate. In my desperation to get Bella out, I…accidentally…bumped into you…and you passed out.”

“You checked me?!”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?!”

“That’s what it sounds like!”

“That’s not what it was! Yeah, I mean, shit was a little crazy and moving fast and I was trying not to crunch kids like rolly pollies while they screamed at being attacked by Big Foot, but I didn’t check you. According to the doctor…you passed out from stress versus being knocked out from the impact. I…may have worded…our…relationship to one another to be that of a working one which led the doctor to allow me and Bella into your room to see if you were really okay. And then you woke up-”

“And just assumed I was your nanny.”

“And I let you because…I really did need a nanny.”

“Igor-”

“And I was only gonna let you watch her for a night or two while I figured out what to do…and how to do it…and then…you just…” his hands roll around one another clearly at a loss for words, “fitskies, aye?” The innocent tone has me mindlessly parking myself in the space across from him. “I let you believe a lie because…Idontknow…it didn’t feel like a lie to me.” He allows his head to bob back and forth. “Da it didn’t feel right to keep those deets, but I started to believe it didn’t matter how you came to us, just that you did.” Another shrug is presented. “And that you stayed. Not for me – even if having you in my life to make you smile is something I celly every goddamn morning – but for my little girl.”

Seeing genuine desperation on his face ceases my ability to speak.

“There isn’t anything in this rink I wouldn’t do for her. No check I wouldn’t take. No penalty I wouldn’t serve. No suspension I wouldn’t endure.” Igor bores his eyes into mine deeper. “Was what I did a little fucked up? Da.” All of sudden, his body invades the gap between us, trapping me to the counter. “Do I regret it? Net. Because we want you. We need you. And we love having you. So…” One hand lands to my left. “Punish me.” The other to my right. “Hate me.” He cranes his face forward forcing me to feel the full weight of his words. “Refuse me.” Tears can noticeably be seen in the rims of his eyes as well as heard in his words. “Just don’t leave her because of my mistakes.”

My question – which is absolutely the wrong one to focus on – is mainly made up of air, “Do you really like making me smile that much?”

“Net.” His clipped response barely precedes his mouth from brushing mine. “I fucking love it, baby.”

Smashing my lips to his can’t be stopped. The initial impact receives a single, subtle grunt yet the rough cupping of both my cheeks and the even rougher rolling of his tongue around mine summons louder, almost inhuman groans that convince me he’s more beast than prince. Both sets of my fingers anxiously curl around the edge of his t-shirt for leverage as velocity races to match voracity. Light grazes from my thumbs along the edge of his jeans unleashes additional grumbles and leads to nips of my bottom lip.

Jaw.

Chin.

Back to my lip again.

This time when our tongues collide the determination to dominate is mimicked by lifting me up onto the counter.

Keeping me pinned to him by anchoring his fingers on the nape of my neck while his thumb digs into my cheek.

Igor’s other arm possessively winds around me to the same senseless speed his mouth is conquering mine. Each sweep is surpassed by every spin, and every spin is outdone by each back arching twirl that has me impetuously crushing my tits against his chest. Rather than use his fingers or relocate his mouth to give my hard nipples the attention they’re anxious to receive, he simply rolls his torso to the match the rhythm of his tongue to create feathery caresses that not only cause my toes to curl but legs to wind around his frame in frantic pursuit to receive more friction.



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