Making His Play: Sister's Best Friend Hockey Romance

by Mari Carr

  Which reminded him…

  Alex recalled her reaction to his warning earlier, and his cock thickened.

  “If you give me that look one more time when I say something nice to you, I’m going to bend you over the nearest surface and spank that cute little ass of yours.”

  Charley gasped, a soft sound, followed by a whispered, “damn.”

  Her arousal was almost tangible and it fueled his.

  He wasn’t sure he’d ever gotten a hard-on so quick.

  And suddenly he was looking around the chapel for just such a surface.

  She laughed quietly, cupping his cheek affectionately. “Hold that thought for later,” she whispered.

  “I don’t know how you did it, Charley, but in one night, you took away every bad feeling—all the stress, regret, anger, sadness.”

  Loneliness.

  “Are you sure that wasn’t the tequila?” she joked.

  He grinned, even as he shook his head. “You never learn, do you?”

  Alex backed her against the nearest wall, kissing her hard, gripping one of her breasts in his hand, squeezing it, pinching her tight nipple through her dress until she moaned.

  Visions of Charley as a kid flashed through his mind. Of her skating across the ice, slapping the puck into the net, cross-checking guys who were twice her size into the boards. She played hard, rough, with passion, holding nothing back.

  He’d bet his entire salary she’d play just as hard in bed.

  He squeezed her breast harder. “When we get back to the hotel, I’m stripping you out of this dress, bending you over my bed, and fucking you senseless, pounding inside that tight pussy of yours until you come a half dozen times, until neither one of us can see straight.”

  “Yes,” she hissed.

  “And then…I’m gonna get serious about it.”

  Charley blinked several times, her breathing as labored as his when he pushed away from her.

  Too much more of this, and they were both in danger of being arrested for public indecency.

  Because God knew he was two seconds away from doing exactly what he’d promised her, right here in the lobby of this Vegas chapel.

  “I’m marrying you, Charley Matthews, because you showed me how to be happy again. And I want to give you the same thing.”

  “For one night?”

  Alex nodded slowly, certain yes was the right answer to that question, even though it felt wrong.

  Mr. Davis reappeared. “Good news, Mr. Stone.”

  Alex took a step away from Charley, trying to pull himself together enough to do this next part.

  He hadn’t lied.

  He wanted to give Charley the wedding of her dreams tonight.

  And if that was all there was to it, he wouldn’t be standing in the chapel feeling like he’d just taken a hard right cross to the jaw.

  Because that wasn’t all he wanted to give her.

  He wanted to give her three words.

  Vows. Future. Forever.

  Fuck.

  Chapter Eight

  Charley giggled when they stepped off the elevator, and Alex bent down to pick her up.

  “Alex!” She clung to his shoulders as he carried her to the door of his hotel suite.

  Her head was swimming from the tequila at the reception and the bottle of champagne they’d just split in the limo. There was no way she wouldn’t have the mother of all hangovers tomorrow.

  Regardless of that…all she could think was Oh my God…he’s carrying me!

  “This Vegas wedding comes with all the bells and whistles,” he said, juggling her a bit as he swiped his keycard over the pad and unlocked the door. “Including the threshold.”

  He carried her into the room and she nuzzled her face against his neck, loving the smell of him.

  “I’m more interested in the honeymoon part of the package,” she murmured, desperate for sex.

  She’d never been an overly sexed person. Something she’d just chalked up to her genetic makeup.

  Yet another way she’d failed to see how wrong Ben was for her. There wasn’t a goddamn thing wrong with her libido.

  What had been wrong was the man.

  Alex didn’t put her down, didn’t stop walking, carrying her right through the living room to his bedroom. Then he tossed her on the bed.

  Charley laughed for a second, thinking his actions a joke. Her humor was short-lived when he followed her down, caging her underneath him, kissing her, running his hands through her hair, gripping it, pulling it until her scalp stung.

  Oh yeah.

  Game on.

  She loosened Alex’s tie, pulling it off, and she started to toss it to the floor, but he took it from her.

  Gripping her hands, he looped the soft silk around her wrists, holding them together above her head.

  “I’m going to tie you up one night. Spread eagle and naked. All mine. I’m going to play with you until you’re screaming, begging to come.”

  Charley fought to breathe, trying not to beg him to do it right now. Every racy, kinky, dirty thing she’d ever read about and wanted to try raced through her mind.

  She wanted to do it all.

  With Alex.

  “I’ve got some free time now,” she offered.

  “Jesus, Charley.” He chuckled, then kissed her nose as he released the tie. Her hands were free, but she didn’t lower them. Didn’t want to give up that fantasy just yet. “You’re perfect.”

  The words sunk in deep, drowning out every horrible feeling she’d experienced in the past few days after having her heart stomped on. She’d run the gamut as far as pity parties went—feeling like that gangling awkward tomboy again, like the world’s biggest fool, certain she had the word sucker tattooed on her forehead.

  Alex was the answer to a prayer—helping her find her confidence again, her footing.

  “I’m just saying,” she purred as she wiggled her fingers—still above her head, “it seems a shame to waste the opportunity.”

  “Another night,” he repeated.

  Reality snuck in.

  There wasn’t going to be another night.

  This was it.

  Her one-and-only, one-night stand with Alex Stone.

  It was the same as any other woman had ever gotten, and she’d be an even bigger fool than the one Ben Jerome had left in his wake if she fell victim to Alex.

  Fake marriage or not.

  Tomorrow, they’d annul the marriage and she’d fly back to Wisconsin, while he’d return to his bachelor’s life of unwedded bliss in Baltimore.

  “For now,” he moved off the bed, grasping her hands and pulling her up as well, “you have too many clothes on.”

  He gripped her hips, turning her away from him so he could untie the laces at the back of her dress until it fell away.

  Because of the design, she’d gone braless, which meant Alex had her down to just her panties in seconds.

  Charley turned to face him, the look in his eyes making her feel…beautiful.

  He ran his hand along her side as his gaze traveled downwards. He pushed her panties over her hips and she shimmied them the rest of the way off, kicking them off, along with her flats.

  Charley reached for his shirt, unbuttoning it.

  She wanted her own show, wanted to see…

  “Fuck,” she murmured appreciatively as she stripped his shirt off. Alex was a bronzed, muscle-bound, chiseled-in-stone god. “I want to lick every part of you.”

  She hadn’t meant to say that aloud, belatedly realizing it might come across as sort of weird, but Alex didn’t laugh.

  Instead, he cupped the back of her neck, drawing her face toward his chest. “Lick, kiss, bite. I don’t give a fuck. I want your mouth on me anyway I can get it, sweetheart.”

  She took him at his word, sinking her teeth into his pec until he hissed in pain.

  Then she stepped back and gave him a victorious grin.

  “Like that, is it?” His voice was deep, dark, and dangerous.


  Charley leaned forward, biting the other pec before running her tongue over his nipple.

  “You remember what I said back at the chapel?” he asked.

  He said a lot of things, the most memorable being “I do.” But she knew that wasn’t what he was talking about.

  She ran her hands over his stomach and unfastened his belt, pulling it free with a quick, loud snick as it slid through the loops.

  Rather than drop the leather, she bent it in half, then drew it over his chest. At the last second, she slapped it against his taut stomach before saying, “I do.”

  He let her have that free shot.

  Just the one.

  Then he reached out and grasped her wrist firmly. “You wanna play rough?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question?”

  Alex knew her.

  Maybe they hadn’t seen each other in years, but deep down inside, she was the same girl, the same tomboy who played to win and didn’t mind drawing blood if it got her what she wanted.

  Alex was the same.

  He gave her a ghost of a grin, the most sinful smile she’d ever seen, before he used his grip on her wrist to twist her away from him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly, her back to his chest, her arms trapped by her sides. His cock was hard and thick, pressing against her ass, his pants an unwanted barrier.

  “Birth control?” he asked.

  “Pill.”

  Charley struggled, not because she wanted to get away from him. But because she wanted to rip him out of his fucking pants, push him onto the bed, and ride his cock, hard.

  His grip tightened, his teeth nipping at her bare shoulder before he pressed his mouth to her ear. “You realize I’m going to come out on top, sweetheart. You’re mine, Charley. Completely.”

  Everything inside her exploded with need.

  Alex said all the right words, knew exactly how to hold her.

  He was her dirtiest fantasy come true.

  “Prove it,” she taunted.

  One second, she was captive in Alex’s arms, the next, she was facedown on the mattress, her wrists clasped together behind her back, shackled by one of his oh-so-big hands.

  With the other, he slapped her ass.

  Hard.

  Charley reared up, fighting for control she didn’t want, as he spanked her again.

  “More,” she demanded.

  He placed half a dozen slaps on her ass and upper thighs before he stopped and ran his hand over her now-sensitive skin.

  Charley lay still, soaking up the suddenly gentle touch. Alex mistook her quietness as surrender.

  His mistake.

  She flipped to her back in one swift motion, wrapping her legs around his waist.

  The sudden movement caught him off guard and he fell forward, bending to catch himself before he crushed her, his elbows landing on the mattress by her shoulders.

  She attacked, biting his neck at the same time she raked the back of his shoulders with her fingernails.

  He hissed, and for a split second, she felt bad about scratching him.

  The guilt was short-lived.

  Especially when he bent his head and sucked her nipple into his mouth so hard, she saw stars.

  “Fuck!” she yelled.

  He lifted his head victoriously.

  “Mine,” he said again, so smug.

  Charley used her legs around his waist to draw him down to her, pinching his arm. “Why are you still wearing pants?” she bitched.

  Alex didn’t respond, didn’t give up possession of her tit. He bit her nipple before turning to assault the other one. “You’ll get my dick when I give it to you.”

  Oh, fuck no.

  Pain morphed to arousal then everything turned primal.

  She rubbed her pussy against his covered dick, dry humping him, out of control.

  Alex reached lower, using one hand to unbutton his pants, to lower the zipper.

  “In me,” she cried out. “Now, goddammit!”

  He didn’t bother to lower his pants.

  He simply reached in, drew his cock, and then…

  “Fuck! Me!” she screamed as he thrust to the hilt with one powerful shove.

  Charley came instantly, waves crashing over her, pummeling her, drowning her.

  Everything turned to white noise, though she was vaguely aware of crying out his name, her nails scoring his back viciously.

  She was definitely drawing blood and she didn’t care.

  Alex didn’t give her a chance to recover, didn’t give way. He thrust into her harder, faster than she’d ever been taken in her life.

  It was fierce.

  It was ecstasy.

  “Mine,” Alex yelled again, his lips near her ear. “Mine. Wife.”

  That word penetrated, hit her hard.

  Because it sounded so good.

  So right.

  So…fuck.

  Wrong.

  Chapter Nine

  Alex rolled over and stretched, every muscle tight, sore.

  Jesus. Even his dick hurt.

  What the fuck happened…

  Just like that, it all came back to him. The reception, the tequila, the chapel.

  The honeymoon.

  He married Charley Matthews.

  Alex let that soak in for a second.

  Yep.

  That’s what he thought.

  Not a single regret.

  He smiled when he heard his not-quite-so-angelic angel of the morning roll over, groaning and rubbing her forehead.

  “Motherfucker,” she said, squinting against the sun shining across the bed.

  Alex held still, waiting for the moment when…

  “Oh my God,” she whispered.

  She’d spotted him.

  Alex looked over, catching a quick peek of her tits before she pulled the sheet over her naked body.

  The devil in him wouldn’t let her off easy, so he reached over and pulled the covers back, the two of them waging a mini-battle—one he let her win, but not before reminding her, “I saw it all last night, sweetheart.”

  “You got me drunk.”

  “The way I recall it, the shots game was your idea.”

  “Still your fault.”

  Alex chuckled. “How do you figure?”

  “You should have won that fucking hockey game.”

  “Ouch,” he teased.

  “Too soon?”

  He pushed himself up, reaching over to tickle her. “Always too soon for that.”

  She squealed under his assault, trying to push his hands away.

  He only relented when she gave up, opting instead to rub her forehead again. “Don’t make me laugh. I have the hangover from hell.”

  The sheet had slipped down during their struggles, giving him an unobstructed view of her tits. Unable to resist, he cupped one, squeezing it.

  Charley’s eyes drifted shut for one second, as she groaned, no longer in pain, but with pleasure.

  It was short-lived.

  She shoved his hand away, covering herself once more. “Alex. We really fucked up.”

  “No, we didn’t.”

  She waved her left hand at him, drawing his attention to her wedding ring. Alex lifted his to her, trying not to consider how much he actually liked the feel of it.

  “I got one too.”

  “We’ve made a mess of things. And you’re not taking any of it seriously.”

  “Of course I am.”

  She ignored him, clutching the sheet to her as she looked around on the floor for her clothing.

  Getting dressed was definitely not on his agenda for the day.

  Maybe not tomorrow either.

  Wrapping his arm around her waist, he tugged her back toward him on the bed, spooning her, letting her feel his hard-on.

  She fought for a few moments before conceding. There was no way he was letting her leave in her current state of mind. They needed to talk…after a few rounds of morning sex.

  “Alex. Please. Let me get dr
essed, then we can sort this whole disaster out.”

  He bit her shoulder before bending closer to her, his lips next to her ear. “Fuckup. Mess. Disaster. You say one more disparaging word about our marriage, and I’m going to turn you over my knee and remind you exactly why it’s none of those things.”

  Alex ran his hand over her bare ass, enjoying the way she shivered in response.

  Yeah.

  She might have been drunk, but she remembered last night.

  Charley liked being spanked.

  And he sure as fuck liked spanking her.

  She sighed when he wrapped his arm around her waist again, snuggling her closer to him.

  She managed to lie still for about thirty seconds before she wiggled her ass, then tried to push his hips away from her. “I can’t think with that thing poking me in the ass.”

  Her choice of words only made him harder. “I’m a guy, Charley. Morning wood is just a fact of life.”

  She shoved at him one last time. “Well, put it away. It’s distracting.”

  Sounded like an invitation to him.

  He pushed her to her stomach, then lifted her hips.

  Before she could protest, he had the head of his dick lodged just inside her.

  Oh yeah.

  He wasn’t the only one with sex on the brain.

  “When exactly did you start getting wet, sweetheart? When I threatened to spank you? When I tickled you?”

  As he spoke, he slowly slid deeper.

  Charley didn’t even bother to resist him.

  Instead, she started moving back, trying to draw him in faster.

  Once he was seated to the hilt, she glanced over her shoulder at him, with a look that was pure seductress. “I got wet the second I woke and saw you lying next to me.”

  There were probably a million reasons why Charley was right, why this whole marriage thing was a mistake, a fuckup, a disaster.

  None of them stood a chance of mattering when it came to this.

  He withdrew until just the head of his dick was still tucked inside, then he plowed back in, deep and hard.

  Alex had a split second of regret. He’d taken her just as hard last night. She had to be sore.

  He tried to slow his roll, but Charley made it impossible for him to play the gentleman. She reached lower, gripping his balls, squeezing them.

  “Jesus.”

  The woman was a tiger.