Major Misconduct (Aces Hockey #1) (15 page)

His hands closed on her hips and he yanked her up against him. He was like a wall, big and solid. Her palms flattened on his chest over the blue-and-white-striped button-down shirt he wore. She wanted to climb him. Excitement circled in her belly.

He hoisted her up so their mouths could meet and they kissed again. His mouth moved on hers with hungry heat, his tongue sliding into her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and head and let him consume her.

Their mouths were feverish, grinding. He pushed her lips farther apart and stole her breath.

Have her way with him. As if. Next thing she knew, the room was spinning as he picked her up, spun around, and headed toward the bed. This cave man carrying her around thing was
hot.
For a brief, bizarre second she tried to imagine Richard picking her up and carrying her. She almost laughed out loud, but then was distracted when Marc sat on the bed with her on his lap and proceeded to kiss her dizzy again. Sensation swelled inside her and raced through her blood.

His hand cupped her jaw, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth, then slid down the side of her neck, over her collarbone, and cupped her breast through her thin sweater. She sucked in a breath, pushing her breast deeper into his palm as he gently squeezed and rubbed her. Sweetness melted down through her, right to her core.

She moaned.

He shifted her on his lap and reached for the hem of her sweater. She lifted her arms so he could pull it off, leaving her in her sheer nude lace demi bra. He gazed at her with hot, seductive admiration. “Sweet.” He traced fingers over her cleavage. He pushed one strap down her arm, tugged the cup beneath her breast, and bent his head to take her nipple into his mouth.

Oh my stars! Her head went back as bliss blazed through her and liquid heat surged between her thighs. As his mouth tugged on the tender peak and his tongue flicked it, his hand went low, skimming over the front of her yoga pants to cup her pussy. He held her there, where she ached and melted, sucking her nipples, licking the curves of her breasts. Then his hand moved and began to rub her, the heel of his palm pressing on her clit.

“Oh yeah,” she groaned, holding on to his shoulders so she didn’t fly up in the air. She parted her legs to give him a little more access and he accepted that invitation, now delving his hand into her pants, into her panties, his long fingers sliding into her folds.

His hand was immediately slick, and he rubbed two wet fingers over her clit, circling it with impressive accuracy.

“Ah!” She bit her lip, slid her fingers into his hair to hold his big head at her breast, where he teased her nipples into almost unbearable hardness. Fire spread through her body and a moan climbed her throat. Then she tumbled into violent spasms, pleasure bursting inside her.

He lifted his head from her breast, cradled hers in his palm, and pressed her face to his chest, holding her through her orgasm. She panted and trembled. “Wow,” she finally managed to say. “We didn’t even get all our clothes off.”

She felt his chest shake and smiled. He was so damn serious, she found she liked making him laugh. She settled against him, limp and satisfied.

Then she was flat on her back on the bed, gazing up at him.

Marc knew he was crazy to be doing this. But damn, she was irresistible, like a drug, and he wanted that high again. This week had been shit, but here, with her making him smile and making him hard, it all faded away.

With her curled up on his lap like a contented little kitten, he closed his eyes briefly at the quiet in his head, the way his shoulders had relaxed.

His dick, on the other hand, was anything but.

He lifted Lovey off his lap and tossed her to her back on the mattress, then reached for the loose black yoga pants she wore. He dragged them down over slender thighs as she stared up at him with a look that damn near undid him. Yeah, she was all flushed and sleepy-eyed from the orgasm, but the look in her eyes was something else…admiration. Excitement.

He did that to her.

He studied her pretty body, lying on his black comforter, wearing nothing but a sheer skin-colored bra and matching panties. She might as well have nothing on, her hard rosy nipples clearly visible, the thong panties a mere triangle of sheer lace. She was gorgeous, smooth pale skin, slender curves, tiny gold freckles like the ones on her cheeks scattered across her chest and shoulders.

His dick jerked, white hot need building inside him.

“I love the way you look at me,” she murmured, bending her elbows so her hands were beside her head, pushing her breasts out.

And he’d just been thinking the same thing about her. This was fucking scary.

But not scary enough to deter him from stripping off his jeans, boxers, and shirt, climbing up over her and straddling her on his knees while he removed her bra and panties.

Her gaze tracked down his chest and abs to where his cock thrust out aggressively. She licked her lips. Damn, the way she’d sucked his cock that night…like she loved it.

With her bra gone, he cupped her bare breasts. Perfect soft globes that filled his hands, hard little nipples that made his mouth water. He caressed her, pinched her nipples, rolled them between his fingertips. Her eyes darkened and her breathing hitched. She reached for his cock.

Soft fingers closed around him and he clenched his ass cheeks at the heat building in his balls. He toyed with her nipples, his gaze moving between her sweet tits and her hand stroking his cock. His own breathing went ragged, his heartbeat deepening to unsteady thuds.

Her lips lifted in a small smile, her cheeks going even pinker. She bent her legs and lifted her pelvis. “You want me to fuck you?” he murmured, his hands drifting down over her narrow ribcage and then clasping her waist. She looked tiny in his big hands. Delicate.

“Yes. Please.”

He shifted his knees, nudging her thighs apart so he could move between them. Yeah. There was that gorgeous pussy he’d started to get to know the other night, the softest, sweetest treasure.

“You need a condom.”

His eyes snapped up to her face, horror sweeping through him. How could he have forgotten something so basic? “Yeah,” he muttered. “Sorry. Don’t move.”

He leaped off the bed to grab one out of the drawer on the other side of the bed, ripped it open, rolled it on, and was back in place in seconds.

“Impressive speed,” she said. “I like watching you touch yourself like that.”

His blood scalded his veins in a fast rush at her words. “Yeah?” He lined up the head at her entrance, knowing she was wet. “I’d like to watch you touch yourself too.”

Her eyes went wide. “Really?” she breathed.

He pushed inside her and she sucked in air. “Really.”

Why did he keep talking about the things they were going to do to each other, when they shouldn’t even be doing
this
? Should. Not. But that thought was smoke in the wind, gone, as her pussy closed around him and squeezed. Hot. Wet. Fantastic.

He held her thighs as he pressed in deeper and deeper, until he was throbbing inside her, his dark hair pressed to the patch of curls at her mound. The contrast of their bodies where they were joined was stunning. Hot. He began to move, slow, sure thrusts, long slides of erotic pleasure, watching her face, watching her eyes go hazy and her mouth soft.

He let go of her thighs and held her waist again as he drove in harder. Faster.

“That’s good,” she gasped. “I like it like that.”

She took it all, and apparently loved it, every hard smack of their bodies together. He could let himself go, be real, be physical and rough and raw. Christ, that was the most powerful aphrodisiac of all, that she wanted from him what he wanted so desperately to give her.

She fingered her clit, her top teeth sunk into her lush bottom lip, eyes nearly closed. “Yes,” she whispered. “Do that…fuck me…”

Yeah, he was fucking her, holding on to make sure she came, although pressure was gathering fast inside him. A groan rumbled up from his chest and he tipped his head back. Then she gave a series of soft cries, her pussy rippling around him. His balls were torturously tight, the base of his spine aching, and then sensation rocketed through him in a bolt of red hot electricity.

She dropped her hand to the bed and he came down over her to bury his face in her neck while wrenching spasms shook his body. Her arms came to his shoulders, her thighs on his hips, and she held on tight as they strained together.

Yeah, that last time hadn’t been his imagination. They had some kind of sensational connection.

After a while, he rolled off her, his index and middle finger on the base of his dick to hold the condom in place. He flattened onto his back beside her. She reached a hand out and set it on his thigh. He did the same, his chest still rising and falling with heavy breathing.

“Thank you,” she finally said.

He turned his head, lips lifting into a smile. “Thank you?”

Their eyes met and he felt a tug deep inside him. “Yeah. Thank you. Two orgasms. Two
amazing
orgasms. You’re amazing.”

His chest swelled. “Thanks. You’re kind of amazing too.” He knifed up. “Be right back.”

He disposed of the condom. When he turned, she was still lying sideways across the bed. It was a king-size bed and she could easily sleep that way if she wanted. He stretched out beside her again, his feet hanging off the side of the bed, on his side, head on his hand to look down at her.

He had to touch her. He trailed fingers over the tiny freckles on her shoulder and her collarbone. “I like your freckles.”

“I hate ’em.”

“What? Why?”

“Eh. I don’t hate them as much as I used to. I was a redheaded, freckle-faced kid, especially in the summers. That gets you a lot of teasing. My nickname was Pippy. Now I’ve accepted them as part of me.”

“They’re an important part of you.” He drew a finger down between her breasts. “They make you unique.” He palmed her ribs and noticed the tattoo again, brushed his fingers over it. “As does your tattoo.”

She gave him a lopsided smile. “I know it’s not original. But I do believe in those things.”

“Sure.”

“Last time…when you noticed it…you asked me if those were really my goals in life.”

He didn’t say anything to that.

“I know you and Duncan both think I’m just flitting around having fun. That I quit a good job on a whim.”

“You’re looking for another job.”

“Not exactly.”

He squinted a little at her. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not really looking for a job. I’ve started my own business.”

He blinked. Oh Christ. “Uh. What kind of business?”

“It’s social media consulting. I help companies with their online marketing presence.”

“Like…on Twitter?”

“And Facebook. And other networking sites. Where and how much depends on the company.”

“So…you have clients?”

“Yes.” She smiled at him, eyes glowing. “I do. I had a few before I even came to Chicago, and I’m actually still doing contract work for Kleinheinz. I did some of that when I worked for them and they liked what I was doing, so I kept them as a client. Since I’ve been here, I’ve gotten two more contracts and I met with a really big clothing company last week that I’m still waiting to hear back from.” She drew her bottom lip in between her teeth briefly. “I’d really like to get that contract. But since I haven’t heard anything, I’m starting to think they’ve gone with someone else.”

He pressed his hand to her ribs. “I had no idea that’s what you were doing.”

“I know. And Duncan doesn’t either.”

“Why haven’t you told him?”

“I don’t know.” She now reached out to touch him, rubbing his biceps. Her gaze dropped to her hand. “I don’t want him to laugh at me. He thinks I’m a big screwup. He’ll never believe that I can do this.”

His chest tightened. “Shit, Lovey. Sure he will.”

She shook her head. “I just want to wait until I’m more…established. So he can’t not believe.” Her forehead creased briefly. “If you know what I mean.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.”

“So don’t say anything to him. I just wanted you to know…I do have goals in life.”

Something softened inside him. “Yeah.”

“I also have a blog.”

“Okay.” What the fuck? A blog?

“It’s pretty popular and people pay to advertise on it. So I’m making some money from that too. And since I quit my job, I’ve had more time to work on it, so I think I can make that grow too.”

“People pay you to advertise on your blog?” Whoa. That had to mean a lot of eyes were on that blog. Not that he knew anything about this shit.

“Yeah. They do. I’m getting more requests, and I think I can start charging more.”

“So you actually make money from it.”

Her eyes crinkled up as she smiled. “Yeah.”

“Cool.” His forehead creased. “What kind of blog?” His hand drifted down to her waist, then her hip.

“It’s called Sugar Blossom. I post about things that appeal to me—pretty things, like clothes or makeup. Food. Things for the home. I take pictures for it.”

He’d seen her with her camera. “Are you a good photographer?”

She made a face. “I’m decent. I took some photography classes in college. It was always a hobby of mine.”

“I’ll have to check out your blog.”

She smiled, her hand on his shoulder, fingers idly brushing his skin. “It probably won’t be very interesting to you. But yeah, you can look at it and see what I do.” He picked up on the pride that laced her voice, but also a hint of nervous hesitation. The obvious love of what she did and pride in it, as well as her uncertainty, made something swell up inside his chest. He had misjudged her. She’d known that, had never defended herself…until now. Now she was telling him because she wanted him to know more of her. The real her.

And again, the feeling of connection tugged at him.

“Don’t tell Duncan, okay?”

“I won’t. But—”

She lightly set her fingers on his lips. “I will tell him, eventually.”

He removed her hand gently. “Telling him might get him off your back.”

“Maybe. He doesn’t get it. He was always good at what he did. Everyone knew he was going to make it big, achieve his dreams. I didn’t even
have
a dream.”

He made a rough noise in his throat and his fingers tightened on her.

“It’s true. Growing up, nobody paid much attention to that. It was fine. I was happy, even though sometimes I wished I had some super talent that would make everyone proud. But now I’ve finally figured out what I want to do, something I’m good at, that will make me happy. I want to do something that I love, not just work so I can get paid every two weeks.”

That he got. He totally got that. “Then that’s what you should do.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes glowed at him. “I wish my family felt the same. Duncan’s always on my back about something.”

“Hence the lesbian thing.”

She giggled. “Yeah.”

She rolled into him and his hand slid around to the small of her back, pulling her tight up against him. “I feel good.” Shit. Why’d he say that?

“Mmm. Me too. I’m glad you feel good.” She tipped her head back to peer at him. “Did you not feel good before this?”

“Not really. It’s kind of been a crap week.”

“Oh no.” Her eyes became shadowed. “Why? Wait. Let’s get under the covers.”

A minute later they were settled beneath his duvet, her body curled up in his arms. And he found himself telling her of his worries about Dale, and how his behavior was impacting the team and how he felt responsible for getting them out of this slump. He couldn’t admit to anyone else the sense of failure he felt, the worry that he wasn’t good enough or strong enough to get them through this. He had to be a leader to the group, give off confidence and strength, not doubt and worry.

Lovey listened and asked questions and stroked his shoulder and neck again as they talked. “Have you told Coach your suspicions about Dale?”

“No. I don’t want to rat him out.”

“It’s not ratting him out.” She paused. “This is what Mom used to tell Duncan and me when we were kids—if you’re telling on someone to get them into trouble, it’s squealing. If you’re telling on someone to get them
out
of trouble, it’s helping. When I told her that Duncan was planning to climb up to the roof of the house and jump off with a homemade parachute, he was mad, but I only did it because I was terrified he was going to die. Mom told me it was okay I told on him that time. But the time I told her he was the one who’d put the dent in the fender of Mom’s car…that was just to get him in trouble.”

Marc laughed. “That’s good advice.”

“So maybe you should tell him. And anyway, I bet you anything Coach has his own suspicions.”

“You could be right.”

The door to the condo opened and closed with a thump.

Their eyes met, Lovey’s wide and panicked.

Shit. Army.

They’d completely lost track of time. Not that they’d had any idea when Army was coming home anyway. Mother of all fuckers! Now what were they supposed to do?

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I closed my bedroom door. He won’t go in there, and he won’t come in here. Uh, right?”

“Right, he won’t.” He hoped.

He clicked off the lamp so the room was dark and Army would assume he was asleep, and they stayed very still and quiet. Except he had a warm, soft, naked woman in his arms, and it was dark and warm and…sexy. And apparently Lovey felt the same because her face turned into his and she found his mouth with hers.