Page 118 of The Pucking Arrangement

But his thumb circles my clit, and suddenly I can’t think anymore.

“Dmitri—”

His smirk is lethal.

“So needy,moya lyubov. Five days, and you can barely say my name.”

I clench around his fingers, my breath shaking as the pleasure builds, builds, builds?—

“Tell me what you need, Erin.”

You. Always you.

I shatter, gasping his name, my head thrown back against the pillows, my entire body trembling as I come apart in his hands.

His lips crush against mine, swallowing every shuddered breath before pulling back, his forehead pressed to mine. He pulls his hand out, then licks my slickness off his fingers, leaving me empty. “Something’s different.” His thumb drags over my bottom lip, his voice softer now, but no less intense. “You’re pulling back. Why?”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Because if I look at him, I might blurt out everything. About the tour. About Luka’s offer. About how terrified I am of wanting this more than my career. But now is not the time.

“Just tired,” I whisper, my body still humming from the aftershocks. “Haven’t been sleeping well without you.”

His gaze darkens, and the air between us shifts.

“I’ll fix that.”

Before I can respond, his mouth is tracing fire down my neck, his hands sliding under my shirt.Hisshirt. Stolen from laundry days ago, now officially my favorite thing to sleep in.

Oh.

This man knows exactly how to unmake me.

“Papa!” Ris’s voice carries down the hall. “Can I wear the blue dress?”

Dmitri growls against my skin, the vibration quaking through my bloodstream. He exhales sharply, like he’s trying to keep it together. “Yes. But first, we are going to the skating rink for coaching. Wear your ice-skating leggings.”

Then, in a voice meant only for me, he rasps, “To be continued.” His eyes burn with promise.

Then he’s gone, leaving me breathless and completely wrecked.

Because how the hell am I supposed to choose between this and my dreams?

How am I supposed to walk away from them next week?

How am I supposed to imagine a future where they aren’t mine?

Chapter23

Picture Perfect (Until It Isn’t)

Erin

The late spring sun dapples the grass, casting shifting patterns across the lawn. The park is a scene straight out of a Hallmark movie. Checkered blankets dot the park, kids chase each other with water guns. It’s the kind of perfect Saturday that makes my chest tight with wanting.

Wanting things I shouldn’t.

“Over here!” Ris tugs my hand, leading us toward a spot under a massive oak tree. She’s wearing a light blue sundress that’s similar to mine—because apparently we’re that family now.

That family.

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