Page 122 of Off-Ice Misconduct
“T-Told yah, a hello fuck,” he says, breathless. “Always, like clockwork.”
He’s proud of himself for knowing me, and I like it too much to be insulted that I’ve been labeled as predictable. But what I don’t like is how much of me is leaking out of him. I roll him carefully to his side and sit up for a sec, reaching into the drawer where we keep a growing number of toys, shuffling until I find what I want.
Ace’s eyes widen. “What are you doing with that?”
“Whatever I want, princess.”
“Hot,” he says.
I push my cum up inside him and pop a medium-sized plug his ass. When I’m hard again, I’ll replace it with my cock.
Getting comfortable again, I tangle with him, skin to skin, locked in place by his heavy thigh over my hip. He’s floating after being fucked the way he wants to be fucked, his breaths even out, spreading like a blanket across the aftermath of our carnal wreckage.
“I miss you when I’m away, Luke. I miss you so hard.” His thumb traces my cheek. He stares at me as if he’s searching for something. Wanting something he doesn’t know how to ask for.
“What do you want, princess?” I swear to fuck, I’ll make it happen.
“Come with me.”
“Okay.”
December can wait before it reaches its greedy claws to take him from me again. Right now, he’s here and he’s mine.
27
DECEMBER
Ace
Idon’t know half the people here, but Coach says they’re all hockey buffs, interested in the team, so I’ll chat them up. The whole team’s here, dressed in our finest, the smell of pine and cinnamon lingering in the air. Garlands wrap around banisters, fairy lights blink in the windows, and some jazzy version of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” is playing low in the background. The whole place feels weirdly cozy for a hockey fundraiser.
The crowd seems to part for him, my man, as he makes his way through the crowd toward his brother. I watch from the other side of the room where I’m standing with my friends.
I asked him to come with me. I meant everywhere—he knows I meant everywhere, right? Not just this event. I guess I can’t expect him to come to frat parties, and would I want him to? Dunno. But I know I don’t want to travel around fucking missing him like I do.
“Close your mouth, Cap,” Shep says.
But there’s no way I can, not even long enough to snark back. I’m not ashamed about my dropping jaw, or the drool that’s about to fall out. Luke’s wearing his suit, the one that makes him look like he owns the whole world, and I’m damn well gonna admire him. I can still make out all his muscles, but they’re wrapped in a fancy package like Luke’s my Christmas present.
My eyes flick to his crotch, because I’m a fucking dog. My ass still aches from the cock I know is responsible for that crotch bulge. Okay, I’m drooling now, but anybody with a man like mine would.
Huh. Luke’s standing under the mistletoe. Wish I could go over there with a cheesy line and have him attack me with a kiss … hey!
A tall woman in a red dress glides into his sphere on her designer heels—right under the mistletoe with him. That’s my fucking place. I don’t know who she is, but I do know she’s standing way too close to my man. Does she know it’s there? Is she doing it on purpose? Damn, I’ve turned into an over-possessive asshole overnight. I’ve never been like that, never cared.
“If mistle-ho touches him, I might have to accidentally push her into the chocolate fountain,” I grumble under my breath.
“Bro,” Bender says.
“What? It’s not my fault gravity works.”
Maybe I wouldn’t feel as anxious about it if I could walk over there and brand him, but I can’t. I’m left to sit over here, stewing.
Luke catches my laser eyes over the top of her head. The smug bastard smirks, reading me like a book. He lifts his drink and mouths something over the rim.
Jealous?
He’s having way too much fun with this. “On second thought, I might drown him in the chocolate fountain, too.”
