by Lily Harlem
“No.”
“Why not?” I was confused.
“Because once we’ve christened it, it will have to be ours.”
“Christened it?” My coat landed on the floor with a soft swish, two seconds later so did his.
“Yeah, once we’ve fucked in it. It’ll make it ours, we’ll fill these walls with the sounds of our lovemaking and the deal will be sealed.” His cheeks were red, and he was a little out of breath now.
I tilted one corner of my mouth. “What if someone comes?”
“It will just be us coming.” He reached for my belt buckle, tugged it free.
“Todd?” I gasped as he yanked down the zipper on my pants. I loved it when he got all big-bad-dominant hockey player on me and decided it was his turn to be top—because he was so damn good at it, at making me feel protected and adored and a portal for pleasure.
“I’m going to fuck you so good and hard over this breakfast bar,” he whispered hotly. “So you don’t ever forget the first time I shoved my dick up your ass in our new home.”
Jesus, really?
My cock burst free as he pulled my briefs down.
“Turn around,” he said, his mouth hovering over mine. “Turn around and show me your hot, tight tush.”
I didn’t actually have a choice because he physically spun me and tipped me to ninety degrees. I would have gone willingly, but it would have taken an extra second.
“That’s it, fuck it, Matthew, your ass is so fucking beautiful.” He ran his hand up my lower back, bunching up my sweater and t-shirt. The other was ramming my pants down, right to my ankles. I could feel his fast breaths on my exposed butt cheeks and my asshole trembled in anticipation. I’d fucked him last night, when he’d arrived from Florida. But we’d been aware of every little mattress squeak and gasp of delight. Now there was going to be no holding back. I could tell.
I stared out the vast window, at the grayness that hid the sea and sky. My heart was pounding, my dick tapping against the work surface. I could hardly contain my impatience to have him enter me and be able to vocalize my delight instead of biting my lip so hard it bled.
“Ah, ah,” I gasped as a sudden coolness slid over my asshole. “You brought lube?”
“I like to be prepared.”
“Oh God, yes, fuck, excellent thinking…” My words trailed off.
He was busy prepping me, working the lube all around my hole, peeking in and spreading it inside me. Up high and around, leaving no section ungreased.
“You want me in here?” he asked, leaning over me and speaking into my ear.
“Yeah, oh fuck, yeah.” I adored the heavy solidity of his body pressing onto mine, squeezing me into the counter. He could crush the breath from me if he wanted to. His strength and muscles never ceased to turn me on.
“You like having me inside you?”
“You know I do.”
“So say it.”
“I like having you inside me. I love it, please.”
“And you know this is it, forever, me and you. No one else.”
“Yes. Forever.”
“And I’m not going anywhere.” He was making V shapes with his fingers now, opening me wide. The burn stole my breath, whipped like an electric shock and went straight to my cock.
I groaned.
“And I’m not going anywhere,” he said again, tipping his fingers forward and rubbing wickedly at my prostate.
“Oh, oh, Todd. Nowhere, anywhere.” I twisted beneath him. The pleasure he induced in me whenever he did that took me to the very limit of my sanity.
He gave a slightly power-crazed chuckle and pulled his fingers from my ass.
I moved upward but his hand came down hard on my back, pinning me in my bent position. “Here you go,” he said, positioning the head of his cock at my entrance. “This is for you, forever.”
I faced out of the window, but I was unseeing. All I could concentrate on was Todd’s cock easing through my first tight barrier. I consciously made my asshole relax, though it was hard, my whole pelvis was juddering with anticipation, trembling with eagerness to have him sink to the hilt.
“Ah, yeah, that’s it, take me.” Todd was forcing his way in, each tiny increase in his width stretching me blissfully.
I moaned loud and with abandon. Curled my fingers around the counter edge and shoved my ass higher into the air, inviting him to plunge all the way and give me what I needed.
He brought a stinging slap down on my right butt cheek. Just the way he knew I liked. I yelped as the pain mixed with the pleasure. Allowed it all to brew in my cock and build from deep inside.
“I’m taking you now,” he said in a strained voice, then rammed forward.
It was a determined, steely drive that forced his balls to squash up against mine. I threw my head back, cried out and allowed the full feeling to bloom right to my core.
“Ah, yeah, so fucking awesome,” Todd groaned, again leaning forward and dropping his weight. “You’re so hot and ready for me all the time, I love it. I love you.”
He sucked the fleshy lobe of my ear into his mouth and nibbled then wrapped his arms around my chest and began to pound in and out. Burrowing deep, taking me higher and higher with each shove of his cock.
“Ah, ah, yes,” I gasped. “I love you too, I love you, Todd, so much.”
He pulled out, thrust back in. The heat of him was blissful and the filling, shoving, pushing against my sweet spot just what I needed.
He set a fast pace. I pushed back for more as he gave it to me hard and good. Soon I was getting ready to explode and release my desire, my lust. My breaths were ragged, my cock filled to full hardness and the pressure in my balls was almost painful.
“I’m coming,” Todd shouted, straightening and slapping my butt again. “Come with me. Oh, please, Matthew, come with me.” He hit again.
It was a good hard whack, and when combined with the lusty desperation in his voice, my climax detonated. “Yes, yes, yes,” I shouted. I didn’t bother keeping quiet like I had the night before, now I let my pleasure rip from my lungs. As I spurted my first shot I shouted more incoherent words of pleasure. I squeezed my eyes shut and let ecstasy flood my body.
Todd was bursting within me, firing his hot release into my deepest, darkest place. He gave me another thwack on my ass and another stream of semen shot through my cock, bursting free. The sensation of sting and climax together was a wild and rampant tangle of bliss. One I’d never get enough of, not when Todd doled it out.
I’d never been happier or more satisfied. Todd owned me. He had me. From the very first photograph I’d taken of him he’d claimed a piece of me. His beauty, his talent, his perfect soul had been a gift from above.
Todd was the man who made my heart finally forget that it had ever been broken.
Feeling his love and adoration, living with his constant understanding and patience, was more than I ever thought I would experience. Todd was the guy I’d been waiting for and it seemed, all that time, he’d been searching for me, too.
THE END
Misconduct
Hot Ice #6
By Lily Harlem
MISCONDUCT. Back Cover Information
When two people who thrive on taking charge collide—in and out of the bedroom—the result is explosive.
Me, manage the Vipers hockey team? Well, that’s my role now. Shame a gorgeous, cocky-assed goaltender is testing my patience. Sweet cheeks—really, is that any way to refer to the boss? Dustin “Speed” Reed certainly seems to think so.
I escape to my billionaire father’s paradise retreat to regroup, but Dustin decides to come along for the ride. Then the tension really heats up, hotter than the scorching midday sun.
I want to slap him and kiss him. Push him away and rip off his clothes. The feeling is mutual—a potent cocktail of anger mixed with lust. I know we shouldn’t. It can’t end well, especially when I’m going give him the sack as soon as I push him out of it.
But what’s the fun in having rules if no
one ever breaks them? I’ll take what I can, give him what he wants and worry about balancing the books tomorrow. Surely my heart will be fine.
MISCONDUCT. Chapter One
I could do this, really I could. It was just a game, right? They were just men, right? Men who played hockey all day, every day, for a living—men who were renowned for their determination, big muscles and bad attitudes.
I straightened out my new skirt suit and plucked a scrap of fluff from the blood-red jacket. Pulling in a deep breath, I clenched and unclenched my fists. My palms were a little sweaty. My guts were rolling.
Sure, Dad had told me all kinds of stuff over the years about hockey. Hell, I’d seen all kinds of stuff over the years. The number of times I’d been dragged to the rink as a kid to watch games, playoffs, daily practice even, I’d lost count. I knew the score, caught the drift, understood the lay of the land, or rather the lay of the ice.
But this?
Managing the Vipers. Me! Gina Gunner!
I had no choice. After a few fun years fluttering around the social calendar, I’d spent three years in England completing a business degree. I had intended on gaining additional work experience, but now, at just twenty-five, my time to step up to one of the family businesses had come early. It was how things were despite the fact I was out of touch with hockey. I’d been all about partying with my friends in Oxford and then enjoying an extended vacation in Paris over the summer until, of course, came the terrible news.
Dad was recovering from a heart attack at our villa on Honeysuckle Key with his new young wife, Giselle, and doctors’ orders were for him to slow down on a permanent basis. His latest hotshot head coach was good, but Dad wanted me to keep an eye on things, hold the reins so to speak, and right now I was all about keeping his blood pressure down.
Though what this venture would do to my blood pressure was anyone’s guess.
I stepped up to the Vipers’ locker room door. My heels clacked on the hard floor and I felt the tickle of a strand of hair that had fallen from my swept-up hairdo. I pushed it behind my ear. I was trying to look professional, in control, to fit the bill as the new, for all intents and purposes, owner of one of the best hockey teams in the NHL.
I stared at the snake logo on the door. Beneath it was a picture of a player—a black cutout—stooped over his stick, legs apart and head down.
I wasn’t used to going into the men’s changing room, but this is what Dad always did before a game. Once he got the nod from a coach that everyone was primed and ready for action, he’d strut in and do his stuff. Give them a pep talk that had the players as high as kites and boost their confidence so they truly believed they were unbeatable. He was damn good at it, too, and the Vipers’ fans could testify to that. One look at the players’ faces as they shot onto the ice proved it.
They played to win. Losing was not an option.
Shoving the door, I stepped in. The scent of hot male bodies, sweat and cologne, and the lingering smell of cleaning fluid filtered up my nose.
“Miss Gunner, they’re ready for you,” Mike said, touching the tip of his Vipers cap and dipping his head.
“Thanks.” I nodded briskly. Around the corner, twenty padded-up, psyched-up guys were waiting to hear what I had to say. That knowledge made my mouth dry and my tongue stick to my palate.
I licked my lips and tasted the strawberry gloss.
“You okay?” Mike asked, touching my elbow.
Mike was the new, top-rated coach. He was experienced yet still able to take to the ice himself and demonstrate when he needed to—not like Ted, the last head coach. He’d been flirting with his seventy-sixth birthday when he’d retired.
I smiled, kind of. “I’m fine. They are all…fully clothed, aren’t they?”
“Yes, ma’am, I wouldn’t have called you in otherwise.”
“Good.” I twisted my fingers together.
“Warm-up starts in five,” he said, glancing at his watch.
“I know.”
Shit, this was it.
I stepped around the corner and was greeted with a room full of curious eyes and expectant faces, some I’d seen before over the years, some new to me. My skirt suddenly felt tight and claustrophobic, and my bra not supportive enough. I resisted the urge to cross my arms and instead placed my hands on my hips when I came to a halt in the center of the room.
“Miss Gunner,” Rick “Ramrod” Lewis, the captain said, “good to see you again.” He stood, all six feet and then some more of himself, and held out his hand.
“Good to see you again, too.” I took his hand and shook it, making sure I had a firm grip and a confident shake, just to let him know I wasn’t intimidated by his size even though I barely hit five-feet-three in my heels.
He settled his gaze on mine for a long moment, then he smiled and sat down.
“In fact it’s great to see you all,” I said, scanning the room. “And I really am looking forward to getting to know you, but you have to hit the ice so we haven’t got time for catching up and introductions.”
I caught the gaze of Phoenix, star forward. He nodded seriously and I got the impression he was already in the zone, thinking about points and pucks, checks and opportunities. Did he really need to hear what I had to say? Would my words benefit one of the most elite players of this century in any way, shape or form?
But my speech was what I’d intended to do so I got on with it. “I’m ready and willing to take over where my father left off,” I said. “He’s doing well by all accounts and will be watching your performance on TV. So let’s make him proud.” I clenched my fist, held it up. “Go out and steal those points from the Sharks. I know they took the win from under our noses when we last met them, so now is the time to really go for it. Whoop their asses—”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Brick said, banging his stick on the ground. “Whoop their asses.”
He had a devilish grin on his face and I wasn’t sure if he was mocking me. He was as known for being a joker as he was for his brutal checks. I decided to push on with my rehearsed speech regardless. “But you’re going to have to concentrate, okay, think about strategies, don’t miss opportunities or give away easy shots. We need focus, concentration.” I stared at Canadian goaltender, Dustin “Speed” Reed. He was famed for his lightning-quick saves and skill in protecting the net.
I tapped the side of my head. “Keep your eye on the game, right.”
“As opposed to keeping my eye on what?” Dustin asked, gnawing at his gum and not breaking eye contact with me.
“Anything else.”
He grinned slow and lazy, and dipped his gaze down my body. He lingered on my breasts, the flare of my hips, my wickedly high stilettoes.
The barefaced nerve of him! Didn’t he get that I was paying his wages now? I wasn’t some rink bunny here for him to ogle.
“Are you gonna be out there?” he asked, shifting some of the enormous padding in his groin area.
I tilted my chin. “Of course.”
He grinned, showing his right incisor was chipped. “Then I’m gonna have a hard time keeping my eye on the puck, sweet cheeks.”
Sweet cheeks!
There were a few huffs of amusement around the room. Raven, the All-Star defenseman, and Ramrod swapped a look. Brick dipped his head and I was sure it was to hide a grin that matched Dustin’s.
I stepped up to Dustin. He was seated so I could just about look down at him. “What did you just call me?”
“Sweet cheeks,” he said, twitching his eyebrows. “Sweet, sweet cheeks.” He licked his lips in the most ridiculously suggestive way.
“If I hadn’t been brought up educated that violence was wrong off the ice, Mr. Reed, I would be quite tempted to slap your not so sweet cheek for that remark.” Now I did fold my arms, and I tapped my foot a little, too. Anger was surging around my veins, hot and sharp. I knew I shouldn’t let it take hold, but I’d always been hotheaded.
“Ah, well, you’re in the rink now, honey, so you’
d better get used to rough and tumble and, as for slapping me, well I’d like to see you try it.” He paused. “Then again I might enjoy a good spanking.”
Ramrod coughed and stood. “Time to go,” he grunted in his deep voice. “Now.”
The rest of the players shuffled and moved past me. Mike darted between them and then led them out.
Dustin didn’t move, he just continued to smirk as the locker room went quiet.
I had to force my hands to stay where they were, locked by the folds of my arms. My palms were itching to take the stupid grin off his face. “How dare you?” I said, barely containing my annoyance.
“How dare I what?” He stood and stretched in front of me; impossibly wide in his goaltender getup and ridiculously tall with the added height his skates gave him.
“This is my first time officially meeting the team as the new owner, it’s not even been announced to the press yet, and you call me sweet cheeks. Show some damn respect.”
“Oh, I respect you all right.”
He was infuriating, all bright smile, flashing eyes and heavily stubbled jawline. The scar on his bottom lip, onto his chin, just added to his harshly handsome looks.
“So show it.” I turned, not wanting to feel hemmed in by him for another second.
Brick suddenly appeared, lunged past us and grabbed a mouth guard. “Come on, Speed, time to hit the ice.”
“Yeah, coming,” Dustin said from behind me. “Just apologizing to Miss Gunner here.”
“Apologizing?” I asked, turning back to him as Brick disappeared. “Strange that I haven’t heard the word sorry.”
“Sometimes you have to take what you can get.” He grinned and flicked his gum into a nearby bin that had the lid propped open. Perfect shot.
“No, I usually get exactly what I want,” I said, knowing I sounded like a spoiled little rich girl and hating myself for it. It was how I’d been brought up, indulged, but I spent a great deal of effort trying not to come across that way.
“I just bet you do.”
