Major Misconduct (Aces Hockey #1) (25 page)

Lovey didn’t know where they were going, but he’d told her to dress warmly.

Warmly? Did that mean something outside? It was December and colder than Mars. What could they do outside? Plus, she wanted to look nice for their first ever date. So selecting her outfit had been a challenge.

She’d gone with black leggings, knee-high, flat-heeled black boots, and a long, lean sweater in an ochre-gold color. She looped a thick infinity scarf in shades of gold, yellow, and green around her throat, and since he’d said warm, she added her olive green wool pea jacket, with a pair of gloves tucked in her purse.

When Marc buzzed, she hurried down to meet him at the front door of the building. He wore his black leather thigh-length jacket, a black crew-necked sweater beneath it, and black jeans.

“Man in black,” she said. “I like it.”

He grinned and handed her a rose from behind his back, not the expected red but a gorgeous orange-shading into peach-shading into yellow at the center.

“Oh…that is so nice. It’s beautiful.”

“It reminds me of your hair.”

She blinked and lowered her chin. Her hair was not orange. But yeah, she knew what he meant. And it was sweet.

He set his hand on the small of her back and directed her to the car parked at the curb. A freakin’ stretch limo. Her eyes widened. “Whoa.”

The driver held the door open for her and she smiled as she thanked him and stepped inside. She gazed around in wonder. “I’ve only been in a limo once before. When Duncan started playing with the Aces, Mom and Dad and I came to see one of his games and he rented a limo to take us out for dinner.”

“It’s a good way to get around.” Marc slid an arm along the back of the seat behind her. “No worries about parking or trying to find a taxi when you want to go home.”

“Do I get to know where we’re going?”

“Not yet. How about a glass of champagne?”

She eyed the bottle in the ice bucket and the fluted glasses. “That would be lovely.”

Marc poured them both a glass, then touched his to hers in a gentle toast. “To us.”

“Marc. This is…” Her throat closed up. She sipped her champagne, letting the bubbles sting their way down. “Delicious.” She paused. “The champagne is nice because I have something to celebrate tonight.”

“Oh yeah?”

She nodded. “I heard from Panache Clothing today. I got the contract with them.”

His eyes widened. “Seriously? That’s fantastic! I know how much you wanted that job.”

“Yes.” Excitement sparkled through her veins like the champagne. “It’s my biggest client yet. When I tell other potential clients that I work with them, it will be so impressive. And it’s big money.” She bit her lip.

“Congratulations.” He leaned in and touched his mouth to hers. “So proud of you.”

“Thank you. I have something else in the works too.”

“Yeah?”

She hesitated to tell him. “Yes. It’s super cool, but I want it to be a done deal before I tell anyone.”

“What? You’re just going to torture me?” He smiled. “You can’t do that.”

“Yes I can.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh. “But you’ll tell me first, right?”

She laughed. “Of course.”

They drank champagne and talked and shared a few hot but restrained kisses on the short drive. The limo stopped, the driver jumped out to open the door for them, and they emerged onto Navy Pier.

She looked at Marc with a raised eyebrow, and he just smiled.

This was cool. Whatever they were going to do. Dinner? Whatever. It was cool.

They strolled down the pier. Here on the water, the breeze was definitely chillier. No wonder he’d said to dress warmly. Marc led her to the boats docked at the side, to one boat in particular, a large, elegant vessel with an upper and lower deck. A man in a uniform waited for them and greeted Marc. “Good evening, Mr. Dupuis. Welcome aboard.”

Wide-eyed, Lovey followed them up the ramp that led to the boat. Inside it was warmer. A table had been set with a white cloth, sparkling glasses, and silver, and a vase with three more of the golden-orange roses. Soft jazz music played over a sound system.

“We’re going on a boat cruise?” she asked Marc.

“Yeah. A river cruise. We’ll have dinner. Some more champagne. Maybe dance a little.”

“Just us?”

“Yeah.”

“On this whole boat?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh wow.”

He grinned. “They’re going to be calling me Captain Romance after this.”

“Oh, Marc.” She floated over to him and set her hands on his chest. “You
are
romantic. I mean, this…this is amazing. Definitely romantic. But I think it’s romantic when you put your hand on my ass when we’re lying in bed half-asleep. Or when you do the dishes for me after I cook supper.”

His eyes crinkled up at the corners. “Good to know.”

“This is way cool for a first date.”

“It doesn’t really feel like our first date.”

“I know. Maybe we did do things backwards.”

They shared a long, warm smile.

The food was amazing, the views of the night skyline spectacular. They slow danced to some sexy music. They got a little buzzed on expensive champagne.

She had no idea how much something like this cost, but the effort Marc had gone to, to make this special, meant much more to her than the money he’d spent.

“Best date ever,” she told him as they strolled arm in arm back along the pier to their limo.

“Not over yet.”

“Ooookay.”

The limo’s next stop was the Waldorf Astoria hotel. Lovey gazed around the incredible lobby. Marc headed straight to the elevators, pulling a key card from his pocket. “Checked in earlier.”

In their room, she was speechless.

“We’ll have lots of room tonight.” He grinned and nodded at the huge bed. She took in the bright white bed linens, the sleek furniture and lamps, the sitting area with plush dark gray furniture arranged in front of a fireplace, a fire already burning there. More orange-gold roses filled big white vases on the dresser and desk.

“Holy crap.”

“Are we staying here all night?” Lovey turned big eyes on him.

“Yep.” Marc smiled and moved toward her.

“I didn’t bring anything with me.”

“I picked up a few things. Hopefully enough. And much as I liked that little peach nightie, you don’t need anything to sleep in.”

“I am never letting you go.” She threw herself into his arms.

“Excellent.” He kissed her hair. “We’re stuck with each other. Now let’s get these clothes off.”

They stepped apart to get rid of coats and scarves, tossing them into one of the armchairs, removing boots and setting them aside also.

“More champagne?” She eyed the bucket on the coffee table. Two fluted glasses sat next to it.

“Yep.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

He laughed and pulled the dripping bottle out of the ice bucket. “Is it working?”

“I may be a little tipsy. Or maybe I’m just deliriously happy.” She smiled and moved to the fireplace, stretching her hands out toward it. “Oh, that’s nice and warm.”

She looked so beautiful, with the flames illuminating her bright hair and her slender curves silhouetted. For a few seconds he just stared at her, emotion fizzing in his chest like the champagne.

He blinked and looked down at the bottle in his hands. He popped the cork out easily and poured them each a glass. He handed her one, then clinked them gently together. “I love you, Lovey.”

“Love you too.”

Their eyes met as they lifted the glasses to their mouths.

“Now, this really
is
the best date ever.”

They sat in front of the fire, sipping wine, talking, touching, kissing. He was glad he’d made her happy. He wanted to spend the rest of his life making her happy.

He wanted to make her happy now.

He carefully set their glasses aside and led her to the bed. He undressed her first, kissing her skin as he revealed it, then pulled off his own clothes. He tumbled them onto the big bed. Her body rippled under his hands as she gave herself to him, and he got lost in the feel of her, in the heat, in the sweetness and erotic pleasure. Emotion swelled inside him, powerful and huge.

Her hands reached for him and her soft murmurs of pleasure had heat pouring over his body, liquid pleasure running through his veins. They rolled and twisted together, mouths fused in long, endless kisses, hands all over each other. She bit his shoulder gently, licked his skin, and made him burn everywhere. He worshipped her with his mouth, his tongue, his hands. He found her soft, wet center and rubbed his thumb over her clit until she vibrated.

“So glad we don’t need a condom.” He kissed her throat as she quivered against him. “Want to be inside you, bare.”

“Yes. Please.”

He moved over her, buried his face in the side of her neck, breathed in that sweet cupcake scent. His chest clenched and he struggled for breath, then levered himself up above her.

Her lips parted and her eyes gazed up at him, her hands on his chest. Their gazes held for a long moment while heat built and shimmered around them. His heart thudded in a slow, heavy rhythm in his chest.

He lifted her thigh, pushed inside her, and his bare flesh met hers, hot and wet. Her body surrounded him and tightened around him, and sensation poured over him, overwhelmingly intimate. He moved inside her, sliding in and out of her silky heat as her body squeezed him, her hands pressed to his chest.

His gaze was riveted to her face, the perfect oval of it, her mouth shiny in the firelight, her eyes full of longing and love and devotion. He thrust deeper, harder, watching her eyelids drift closed, drinking in her hot whimpers and the soft sighs that built to a climax of pleasure. He’d never seen anything as gorgeous as watching Lovey come, her body tightening, her pussy rippling around him, and it undid him. The surge of sensation and emotion inside him was almost unbearable. He sank into her softness, one achingly sweet sensation building on another. Pleasure expanded through his chest, swelling inside him.

He fell on her with a long groan, their bodies melting together. Her hands slid over him and she moved against him, beneath him, with him, around him. She was everything to him.

“Je t’aime,”
he whispered.
“Tu es pour moi la plus belle.”

“I love it when you speak French to me.”

And he smiled.

“You going home for Christmas?”

Marc looked over at Army at his question. They were each sprawled out on one of his couches, Rosser in one of the armchairs, all of them watching
Duck Dynasty,
eating pretzels, and drinking root beer.

Oh right. Christmas. Only a couple of weeks away. They had four days off this year, from the twenty-third to the twenty-eighth, but he’d been so distracted with what was going on with him and Lovey, not to mention their losing streak, he hadn’t even thought about it. Now he guiltily remembered his mom’s email asking about that, which he still hadn’t replied to. He winced inwardly.

“I should. My mom wants me to.” He paused. “I’m trying to convince Lovey to come with me.”

Army frowned. “But then she won’t be home for Christmas. I mean,
our
home.”

“I know. She’s having a hard time deciding what to do. Doesn’t want to let your parents down.”

Army pursed his lips. “Well, I guess this is what happens when the kids grow up. We’ve never had Christmas apart.”

“Never?”

“Nope.”

Marc grinned. “You talk like she’s such a big pain in your ass, but you love your little sister.”

Army grimaced and rubbed the back of his head. “Of course I love her.” He glanced at Marc. “You could come to the farm.”

“Lovey said that too. Don’t know what your folks would think about that.”

“They fucking love you. They love you more than they love me.”

“That’s understandable.”

Army threw a pretzel at him and Rosser snorted. Marc grinned.

“How about you, Rosser?” Army looked at their teammate. “Going home for Christmas? You’re from…Maine…right?”

“Wrong.” Rosser shot another pretzel Armdog’s way. “Connecticut. Greenfield. Little place just outside Hartford. And yeah, I’m going there for Christmas.”

“Big family?”

“Uh…” Rosser’s face tightened. “Sort of. They’re kind of my adopted family. They took me in when I was sixteen and my own family fell apart.”

“Ah. That sucks, man.”

Rosser shrugged. “That was a long time ago. The MacFaddens are good people. It’ll be cool to see everyone.”

“Sounds good. But seriously, this is a tough decision.” Marc returned to their discussion about where he and Lovey should spend Christmas. “Don’t want to let my folks down either. And a French-Canadian Christmas would be cool for Lovey.”

“Maybe you should go home and Lovey should come to the farm with me.”

Marc frowned. “You think we should spend our first Christmas together apart?” Wait, that didn’t sound right. Whatever.

“It won’t kill you, for fuck’s sake.”

Marc scowled at his friend. “Dude.”

“What?”

“Are you taking Melissa to the farm for Christmas?”

“Fuck no.” Army’s forehead furrowed.

“See, you don’t get it. I
want
to spend Christmas with Lovey.”

“Aw. How sweet. When did you turn into Captain Romance?”

“Ha. I knew that was coming.” The dig didn’t even bother him.

“I believe you once insinuated that I was whipped by my own sister. Well, look at you.” Army lifted his arm in a cracking-the-whip motion and made the corresponding noise.

“See, that didn’t even bother me. Because I’m not whipped. I
want
to be with her.”

“Gag.” Army guzzled some root beer from the can.

“We all end up whipped to some degree. When we’re young and single and we see a guy who just wants to stay home and fuck his girlfriend instead of coming out with us, we don’t get it. But of course he wants to stay home and fuck his girlfriend. That’s why he
has
a girlfriend.”

“I don’t like where this conversation is going.”

“I’m talking in generalities.” Marc waved a hand. “Anyway, one day you’ll understand.”

“Again, gag.” Army paused. “Hey, I know. Rock, paper, scissors.”

Marc laughed. “Fuck off.”

“Okay, we’ll arm wrestle.”

“You know you’ll lose.”

The door of Army’s condo opened and closed and Lovey appeared. She rushed in, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes sparkling. “Guess what!” She paused and beamed a smile at Rosser. “Oh, hi, Andrew.”

“Hey, Lovey.”

Marc smiled and sat up straight. “What, baby?”

“Remember I said I had another potential client?”

“The one you wouldn’t tell me about?”

“Yes! I got the job!” She actually jumped up and down in her high-heeled boots, clapping her gloved hands.

“Who is it?” Marc rose off the couch and strolled over to her.

“The Aces!”

Army sat up too, frowning. “What? The Chicago Aces?”

“Yes!” She beamed at them.

Marc wrapped her in a big hug. “Congratulations, baby. That’s fantastic!”

She hugged him back. “I know!”

“Congratulations,” Rosser said.

“How did that come about?” Army asked.

“Marc, remember that night at the grand opening of Fowler School, we were talking to Mick Rooney?” She looked at Duncan and explained, “Marc told him I was helping him with his social media stuff, and he asked me a bunch of questions about my business. Well, apparently he was curious and started following me on Twitter and Instagram and Facebook, and he and Colby started checking out some of my clients to see the work I’m doing.” She grinned. “They really like my tweets for Kleinheinz Cheese.”

Marc laughed.

“So that’s what they’re hiring me for. To give all the guys social media training and work with Communications on their various social media platforms.”

“Wow, Lovey.” Army stood too. “That’s great.”

“Thank you.” She met her brother’s eyes. “Are you impressed?”

“I am,” he admitted, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. “You’re doing great with your business, Lovey.”

Her smile beamed out. “Yes.” Then she sighed. “I’m so relieved.”

Marc hugged her again. “I knew you could do it.”

“Hmm. I’m not so sure you were convinced of that at first.”

“Well, it didn’t take me long to see that you’re capable of anything you set your mind to.” Her lips trembled and he brushed his mouth over hers. “You are. I believe in you.”

She shoved her face into the side of his neck and squeezed him tighter. “I love you.”

He stroked a hand down her silky hair. “Love you too, baby.”

Army groaned behind them. “Jesus.”

They both turned and grinned at him, arms still around each other. Rosser looked amused, still reclined in the armchair, crunching on a pretzel.

“Hey,” Army said. “We were just talking about Christmas. What are you gonna do, Lovey?”

She bit her lip. “I’m not sure. I guess we better decide, huh?” She undid the belt of her coat, then unbuttoned it, moving into the center of the room.

“Army wants you home for Christmas.” Marc chuckled inwardly. “He’ll miss you if you’re not there.”

Army glared at him. Then he shrugged. “Hell, it’s true. You kinda make things fun.”

Lovey looked at Marc with big eyes. “I feel so torn. I know you want to see your family.”

“Hey, you know what? This year the All-Star Game’s in Montreal. That’s pretty close to home. My parents will for sure come and see it.”

“Assuming you
make
the All-Star team, jackass,” Army muttered.

Marc paused. “Well, yeah.”

“Of course you will.” Lovey frowned at her brother. “You both will.”

“Eh.” Army shrugged. “The way our team’s playing, not so sure of that. But whatever.”

“Well, even if I don’t make the team, we can go to the game. And see my parents then.”

“That’s late January, right?” Lovey tipped her head.

“Yeah. I forget the exact dates right now. So we’ll go see
your
parents for Christmas.”

Marc caught Army’s grin before Lovey threw her arms around him again. “You are so getting lucky tonight.”

“Jesus,” Army grunted. “And once again, what Lovey wants, Lovey gets.”

Lovey’s head lifted and she shot her brother a glare. “I thought you wanted me to come home for Christmas?”

“Uh. Yeah. Right.”

“So really,
you’re
getting what you wanted.”

Marc laughed.
Câlisse,
he loved her. She lived up to those words tattooed on her pretty torso—
live, laugh, love
—and had brought that into his world too. He wanted to live and laugh and love her for the rest of their lives. He brushed his mouth near her ear.
“Tu es ma joie de vivre.”

She smiled at him.
“Merci. Je t’aime aussi.”