Major Misconduct (Aces Hockey #1) (20 page)

He turned away.

Lovey got the game organized and explained things to those who had never played.

“I’m not being the Card Czar first,” she said firmly. “Someone else has to do that. Duncan.”

“Uh. Sure.” He read a black card. “Next on ESPN2. The world series of…?”

Everyone searched through their cards. Then the fun started. Of course the guys tried to come up with the most obnoxious answers they could, and with everyone well lubricated, it all seemed uproariously funny.

“Pictures of boobs.”

“Justin Bieber.”

“Erectile dysfunction.”

“Fingering.” That got a huge roar of laughter and ended up the winner.

The answers got raunchier and they all laughed harder. Marc’s face hurt from laughing and he sat back for a minute to watch. It had been a long time since the team had all gotten together like this—most of the team anyway, since a few guys hadn’t been able to come—and just had fun in a relaxed social setting.

After the game ended, people sat in smaller groups, talking, Lovey flitting around carrying away empty bowls and platters, setting out new ones with cookies. She offered coffee and served it, and then folks started leaving. Not a wild and crazy late night, but it was Sunday and they had a practice in the morning, and everyone seemed really mellow and content.

“I’d call that a success,” Marc said when it was finally just him and Lovey and Army.

Lovey yawned and surveyed the full dishwasher. “I’ll run another load tomorrow.”

“You go to bed,” he said. “I’ll finish cleaning up in here.”

“Thank you. I think it was a good night.”

“It was great, Lovey,” Army said. “Thank you.”

She smiled and turned away, then paused. She pointed at Army. “You. Help Marc clean up.”

He rolled his eyes at her. Marc grinned. “Yeah, man. Help out a little.”

“I am, I am.”

Marc had to grin. Army knew he couldn’t stand a mess, and
may
have left cleaning up to him a time or two. The fact that Lovey got it made him smile.

He wanted to tell her how amazing she was, how much he appreciated what she’d done, but with Army standing right there, no way. But he’d have his chance. He’d make sure of it.

Duncan and Marc left Monday for a Tuesday night game in Detroit, then came back Wednesday. It was a heartbreaking loss in a shoot-out in overtime, but the Aces had played really well. They had to be happy with that, but losing was never fun. Watching the game, Lovey knew Marc would not be satisfied.

She spent Wednesday afternoon out looking for topics for her blog, taking photographs, and exploring. Then it started to snow and she headed back to the condo.

When she got home, Marc and Duncan were there. The music of Van Halen blasted on Duncan’s stereo system. Marc stood in front of the washing machine loading clothes into it. As usual, their eye contact was loaded and hot as they greeted each other casually.

“So.” She climbed onto a stool at the kitchen island. “You guys played great.”

“We lost.”

“I know. You have to be positive though, right? You did some good things. You’re back on track.”

“You’re right. Have to focus on the positive. There has been a big change in the dressing room. What were you up to?”

She told him what she’d been doing. Duncan came and poured himself a glass of milk. She took in his dark pants and dress shirt. “What’s up with the fancy clothes?”

“Going out.”

“With the model again?” She leaned in.

“Yeah.”

“Whoa. Two dates with the same girl. This is serious!”

“Eh.” Duncan lifted his chin at Marc. “What’s with you? You haven’t had a date in weeks.”

Marc and Lovey’s eyes met with a little jolt of electricity, but they both looked away immediately. It was true. He hadn’t been out with anyone else. Possibly because they’d been banging their brains out with each other every chance they got.

What would she do if he went out with someone else? They were just having casual, convenient sex. Well, sometimes it wasn’t at their convenience, it was more dependent on Duncan’s social life. But still.

She found she didn’t really like the idea of Marc seeing someone else.

“Dry spell.” Marc gave a cocky grin. “Also I’m very focused right now on my career. Unlike some people.”

“Fuck off, I’m focused. I’m allowed to have a social life.”

Marc grinned and Lovey knew he was just yanking Duncan’s chain. Especially after Duncan had totally deflected attention from his sex life to Marc’s. Or Marc’s lack of sex. Which she and Marc both knew wasn’t exactly the case.

Damn. She sighed.

Then she regrouped. The positive was, Duncan was going out. Which meant while he was out boinking some model, she and Marc could have their own hot, sweaty boinking session. Yay.

She lifted her gaze to Marc, and once again, the connection snapped between them. Yup. He was thinking the same thing she was.

“We’re going for dinner at The Cellar.” Duncan finished his milk and set the glass on the counter.

“Put it
in
the dishwasher.” Lovey nodded.

He grumbled but did so.

“It must be a swank place for you to ditch the jeans and baseball cap,” Lovey said. “You look nice, by the way. Other than the beard.”

“Uh. Thanks. Okay, I’m outta here. Stay out of trouble, kids.”

Now Marc rolled his eyes. Lovey laughed.

When the door closed behind him, she looked at Marc. “If he only knew.”

He didn’t smile at her teasing comment. “This is getting kind of old.”

“What is?”

“Sneaking around behind his back.”

She sighed. “Yeah. I hear you. But what can we do?”

“He hasn’t actually said anything for a while. As in, warning me off. And at the party Sunday night, I was waiting for him to say something to Ryan when he was flirting with you.”

“He was not flirting with me!”

“Oh, hell yeah, he was.”

“He’s twenty-two years old!”

“Big whoop. Two years younger than you.”

She eyed him. “Were you jealous?”

“No.” He broke eye contact and spoke to the floor. “I was just waiting for Duncan to go all protective big brother on his ass. It didn’t happen.” He crossed his arms and looked at her again. “Maybe he’s accepting that you’re all grown up.”

“You think?” She considered it. “Nah. But what are we talking about him for?” She hopped off the stool and sauntered over to him. “He’s gone. And you know what that means…the mouse is gone, the cats can play.”

He burst out laughing but reached for her hips. “I think we’re the mice, not the cats.
Comme on dit en français—le chat parti, les souris dansent.
”

“Oooh.” She ran her hands up his chest. “That sounds so sexy.”

“Talking about cats and mice. Not really sexy.”

“Still. It sounds sexy. I want you to take me to bed and talk dirty to me in French. Say something else.”

“Les chats me font éternuer.”

“Oooh. I like it. More.”

His lips twitched.
“Mon camion a un pneu à plat.”

“Yes, please,” she breathed, although she had no idea what he’d just said. He bent and slid an arm behind her legs and picked her up. She grabbed his shoulders, which were shaking with laughter.

“What did you say?” She narrowed her eyes.

“Which?”

“Both.”

He carried her to his room. “First I said cats make me sneeze. Then I said my truck has a flat tire.”

“Oh shoo.” She smacked his shoulder but had to laugh too.

In the bedroom he lowered her feet to the floor, wincing.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just a few sore muscles. A few hard hits into the boards last night.”

“Oh.” She ran her hands over his shoulders and biceps. “Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere.”

“I know what you need. A massage.”

“I had a massage.” He paused. “Wait, are you offering?”

“Um, yeah.”

He grinned. “Okay, that was stupid, wasn’t it? I’m going to turn down a massage from you? I don’t think so.”

“I have a massage bar.” She whirled around. “Be right back.”

She went into her room and retrieved the wrapped bar that melted easily on warm skin.

“It’s edible,” she shared, unwrapping it to show him.

“Don’t even tell me why you have that,” he muttered, pulling his T-shirt over his head. “Don’t wanna know.”

She smiled. “Okay.” Let him worry about that. “All your clothes off, and then lie on your stomach on the bed.”

“Are you going to be naked too?”

“Do you want me to be?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Okay.” She undressed too. She watched him grab a condom from the drawer before he lay down. “Ha. This is a
massage.
Getting a bit ahead of yourself with the condom there, hockey boy.”

He smirked. “If you say so.
Toujours prêt!
”

“And what does that mean?” She climbed onto the bed and straddled his hips.

“It’s the Boy Scout motto.
Toujours prêt!
”

“Be prepared. Ah. I get it.” She rubbed the bar over his shoulders and upper back. “Were you seriously a Boy Scout?”

“Sure. For a while. Then hockey started taking too much time.”

She began kneading big, tight muscles, finding tight spots and digging her fingers in.

“Câlisse,”
he said and groaned. “That feels good.”

She smiled and kept massaging, working over each arm all the way to his hands, then down his back. Her hands were starting to get tired but she wasn’t quite finished yet. She rubbed his lower back, then shifted down his thighs to squeeze his ass. She sighed with pleasure. “Your ass is really nice.”

He groaned into the pillow beneath his head. “You’re killing me, Lovey.”

She massaged there too, big, taut, powerful muscles. She started to wriggle because she was getting turned on. “Want me to do your front?”

He lifted his head. “I don’t know if that’s going to work. I’m hard as a fucking goal post.”

“I can massage that too.”

He made a choked sound but rolled over. Yep. His erection was thick and stiff and so beautiful. She licked her lips and rubbed the massage bar over his pecs, starting there, but that massive erection was distracting and in her way. She rubbed his chest, bringing forth more groans, caressed his abs, and then, her hands slick, wrapped them both around his cock.

“
Tabernak.
So good.” His eyes were closed, his body relaxed, everywhere except that hard column of flesh in her hands. When she bent to lick him, he jerked.

“Remember?” she murmured. “Edible.” The massage bar tasted of coconut and she licked him all over, then took him into her mouth.

He felt so good, hot and pulsing, thick and weighty on her tongue. She used her hands and her mouth, playing with him, getting lost in it a bit, until he pulled her off.

“Inside you,” he growled. “Now.” He grabbed the condom he’d so cockily left near them on the bed.

She was wet and ready for that, so she went up onto her knees and straddled him, taking him in her hand again to direct the head of his cock to her opening. Her aching opening. She needed him too, filling her.

She lowered herself slowly, carefully, because he was big, watching his face. His eyes burned with need.

His hands clasped her hips, lifting her, lowering her, helping her move on him. Fire spread through her body. He reached for her breasts and cupped them. He pinched her nipples and sensation flowed through her down to where they were joined. Her body picked up the feeling, buzzing, a growing tightness that she reached for and focused on. She closed her eyes, Marc’s hands caressing her, and slipped a hand down to her clit to find the sensitive bud. Oh wow, she was winding up already, excitement building and twisting inside her. Her pussy flexed and clenched and then it all peaked. Ripples of pleasure flowed out from her core.

She fell down to lay on top of him, gasping for breath, and his hands went to her ass and grabbed her as he fucked up into her with hard, burning strokes. She panted against the side of his neck, pleasure still coursing through her veins.

“Fuck me, Lovey, gonna come…fuck yeah…” He grunted his pleasure as his body tightened, hands on her butt holding her tight against him as he pulsed inside her. It was sweaty and messy, their bodies sliding together in a mix of perspiration and massage oil, and it was beautiful. So beautiful.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her upper body, holding her in a fierce hug that made her throat thicken. God, she loved being with this man.

“So that was a pretty good massage,” she murmured.

His body vibrated with laughter. “Better than the one I had from Cal.” He named one of the Aces trainers. “I think it was the happy ending.”

She smiled. “Cal doesn’t give happy ending massages?”

“Fuck no.”

“Well, good.” She stretched her burning thighs out along his. “Ah.”

“I’m hungry.”

She considered that. “Me too. What do you feel like?”

“You cooking?”

“No.”

His arms tightened on her briefly. “Let’s order pizza.”

“Sounds good. Let’s eat it in bed.”

“Even better idea.”

They rolled apart, and he got rid of the condom and grabbed his cellphone from the dresser, where it had been charging. In a few minutes, an extra large Luciano’s special had been ordered and queued for delivery.

Lovey decided the new bra and panties needed more attention, and put them back on. Marc grabbed his athletic pants so he was decent when the delivery driver arrived. They lounged in bed with Marc’s TV on. He played with her hair while they watched news and talked about all kinds of things.

After they’d eaten the pizza, Lovey said, “Okay, hockey boy. Now it’s my turn.”

He lifted a brow. “Your turn for what?”

“A massage.”

“Oh.” His smile went wicked. “Okay, then. Take off the pretty lingerie so we don’t mess it up.”

She complied and stretched out on her stomach as he had. “Remember,” she mumbled. “It’s edible.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You can put it
anywhere,
” she added.

His laugh rumbled out of him. He began to rub the bar over her skin. “This is pretty cool. It just melts right away.”

“Yeah.”

“Smells good too.”

“And it
tastes good.
”

He laughed again. “Fuck. Lovey.” He stopped what he was doing to bend down and press his mouth to the small of her back.

She lifted her head and looked over her shoulder. “What?”

“You just…” He stopped. He shook his head. “You make me laugh.”

“As long as you’re laughing with me and not at me.”

“You’re not laughing.”

“No. But I’m amused. So it’s okay.”

He shook his head again, his smile wide. His big hands started working over her shoulders, down her spine, all the way to the base. He shifted as she’d done, giving slow circular rubs to her butt cheeks, deeper and deeper.

“That’s nice,” she slurred, her body melting into the mattress. “So nice.”

His hands lingered at the crease of her ass, then stroked down over the backs of her thighs in long, sensuous glides. When his fingers slipped to the insides of her thighs, she smiled and parted her legs ever so slightly.

Her pussy began to tingle knowing his hands were so near, building to a hungry need to be touched. He teased her by slipping closer, then backing off, caressing and massaging her thighs and butt. Then he got more aggressive and his fingers slid down the crack of her ass. Oooh. That created a whole
lot
of tingles, up her spine and down to her toes. Every nerve ending in her body went onto alert as she anticipated more.

He rubbed her there, deeper, lower, easing her thighs apart, until his hand was in her pussy. He paused for a moment to rub the massage bar between his palms, slicking them up, and then he was using both hands on her ass and thighs and pussy, stroking over sensitive skin. Her back arched helplessly as her hips lifted to allow him access, and he played there for a long time, tormenting her with his fingers and then even his lips on her butt, nibbling and licking her.

“See,” she breathed. “It does taste good.”

“You’re right. Roll over.”

She slowly rolled to her back, reaching behind to release her hair where it was trapped beneath her. Her eyes focused on Marc, kneeling beside her, his chest and arms bare and gleaming with the massage oil she’d used earlier, emphasizing his ripped muscles even more. His eyes were hot on her breasts, and her nipples tingled.