The Penalty Box: A Vancouver Wolves Hockey Romance

by Stone, Odette

  “Now he’s wrecking your Halloween decoration,” she said sadly.

  Wild laughter bubbled out of me. I worked to stop it. “That’s okay.”

  “I’m going to my room now. You should go calm him down.”

  There was no calming Mica down. I stood on the deck and watched as he systematically dismantled the scarecrow, tearing it from limb to limb before kicking apart the wooden frame with his foot.

  He jumped on the deck with ease and stared at me as he came towards me. He was like a black sun, throwing off emotions like it was his full-time job. I stepped back and watched as he walked through the living room. He picked up his wallet and keys, and with one dark look back at me, he disappeared out the front door.

  * * *

  Mica didn’t come back for dinner, and even Yelena seemed to sense that she had taken it a step too far. I didn’t understand why both of them had gotten so upset, but she wasn’t talking about it. Instead, she picked up Sasha, cradled him to her chest like a baby and watched me cook dinner.

  “You love my son.”

  It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t know how to respond. “Mica is Mica.”

  She nodded in approval, as if that was an answer to her non-question. “Even as a boy, he knew who he was. Headstrong, feisty, and so emotional. He was like a little tornado that whirled from place to place, destroying things like only a little boy can destroy.”

  I tried to imagine my huge husband as a boy and failed. “He doesn’t talk about his childhood.”

  “When he does finally talk, you’ll understand why.”

  I didn’t answer, because I felt like I was treading on quicksand.

  She didn’t seem to mind when I didn’t speak. She kept talking, filling in my gaps. “It takes a strong woman to be married to my son.”

  “I don’t know how strong I am.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “My son needs someone that doesn’t break. That you are here and married to him tells me you have strength.”

  I stirred the sauce. “He’s the strong one.”

  “Tell me about your parents.”

  “My mom has passed away. She raised me as a single mom.” I glanced at her defiantly. “We didn’t have a lot of money growing up, but we had lots of love.”

  She lifted Sasha into the air above her head. “Mica was the opposite. More money than we knew what to do with, but we were short on love.”

  I paused and looked at her. “That’s sad.”

  She held my gaze. “I know.”

  Chapter 16

  MICA

  I sat in front of the dark house. I should have never left Charlie like that with my mom. That was unforgivable. How bad had the rest of her day been, after I tore out of there like demons were on my heels? I had to leave. My mom had pushed all my buttons, opening something inside of me I couldn’t close, and I had been afraid of what I would say or do if I stayed home. It was more for my mom’s protection that I removed myself before I caused irreversible damage to our relationship. I still felt raw and on edge.

  Does nothing ever change?

  One conversation with her and I was back to being a kid, feeling all those things I no longer wanted to feel. It had been years since I had lived in Russia, but the moment I got into the same room as my mom, all the same issues cropped up.

  Poor Charlie. I had forced her to deal with one issue after another since she had married me. How much did she hate me for leaving her alone with my mom? Would she still talk to me? Or had she lost her patience and spilled the truth of this marriage? Whatever happened, I couldn’t blame her.

  I came into the house and Sniper greeted me at the door. I kicked off my shoes and walked to the bedroom, tapping lightly on the door.

  “Come in.”

  I opened the door. Charlie was lying on her side with her back to me. She looked over her shoulder. “You don’t have to knock. This is your bedroom.”

  I came in and shut the door behind me. Moonlight pooled in the room, giving me enough light to gauge exactly how pissed she was. She rolled over on her back and studied me back.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice full of concern with not one trace of anger in her tone.

  I moved to the edge of the bed and sat down. “I’m sorry.”

  “Are you okay?”

  I meant to say that I was fine. Everything was under control. I would take care of her and this situation. But could I really make those promises? To date, I had been doing a shit poor job of taking care of her. Why would she believe me? I lay down on my side next to her and looked her in the eyes. The truth escaped out of me. “Not really.”

  Her face was so open and beautiful. I watched as real emotion crossed her face. Concern. Care. Understanding. “Want to talk about it?”

  I wanted to share with her, set my truth at her feet and for once in my life trust that it would be okay. But I didn’t know how to be that man. Instead, doing the only other thing I could do to be close to her, I leaned forward and pressed my mouth to hers.

  I loved the gasp that came out of her. And I took that as permission. I poured everything that had been swirling inside of me into that kiss, ravaging her mouth, unable to stop myself. When her fingers pushed into my hair, giving me an inch, I shamelessly took a mile. I moved towards her, angling my body so my face was above hers and I could use one hand to trace slowly down one arm. Her skin felt like silk beneath my fingertips. She shivered in response.

  “Charlie,” I breathed into her mouth. I lifted my head so I could look at her. When had she become so fucking beautiful? I needed to touch her. I needed to connect with her. I still felt so on edge, but her body beckoned me, promising me some level of peace. Tonight, I wasn’t going to just cross the line between us. I was going to annihilate it.

  Her chest heaved. Our eyes met.

  Please don’t say no. I reached up and slowly pushed the covers off her body. She wore a white tank top and a pair of the sexiest panties I think I’d ever seen. God help me. I kissed her again until her mouth was trembling beneath mine. I moved a hand until it rested on her stomach. Her breath was harsh. I held her gaze as I slowly slid my hand down so it rested between her legs. I could feel her heat through the lace, beckoning me.

  “I want to watch you come.”

  Her trembling thighs clamped shut on my hand.

  I leaned down and teased her mouth with mine, kissing her to distraction until I felt her legs fall open.

  “That’s it,” I breathed, tracing the top of her panties with my fingertips. “Let me make you feel good.”

  She whimpered when my fingers slowly, tantalizingly dipped beneath the fabric. Smooth skin beneath my fingers and then hot wet heat as I slid further down.

  Her head lifted. “Mica.”

  I bent to kiss her again, speaking against her mouth. “Stay with me, Charlie.”

  God, she felt good. Slick, petal-soft and so fucking feminine that I had to work to not tear off that offending fabric and bury my face where my fingers played. My hard cock strained against my jeans to the point of discomfort.

  My fingertips found her bud and lightly circled it, playing and teasing. She was staring at the ceiling, panting lightly in that pre-sex haze as I expertly worked to wind her body up. Her chest heaved, and she moaned when I deliberately, delicately stroked her clit.

  I bent my head, finding her nipple through her shirt, lightly biting. I circled with my fingertips with a feather touch, faster and faster, matching the short gasps of her breath.

  I lifted my head, looking at her face, wanting to watch as I moved my fingers to her sweet entrance, rimming her. Her hips rocked slightly, her body seeking. I made fast work of pushing down her panties before tossing them aside. Now she was naked and open to me.

  I pushed two fingers inside of her and groaned at the feeling of her softness, wishing it was my cock penetrating her core.

  She gasped my name.

  Mine. With my fingers deep inside her, she was now mine. I thrust my fingers into her,
like I would my cock. Plundering her softness, fucking her relentlessly, loving how she braced her feet, arched her back and took everything I gave.

  “Mica,” she cried out, her head rolling from side to side.

  She was so wet. So soft, so perfect.

  My voice was low as I teased her with my dirty words. “You feel my fingers? They are inside you. Fucking your hot little pussy.”

  Her breath was coming out of her in short little gasps.

  “You like that, don’t you? You like it when my fingers are between your legs, buried deep inside of you. You know why?”

  She tossed her head, not answering.

  “It’s because when you open yourself up like this, you know I’m in charge. I’m in control. And you need that, don’t you? You want that.”

  I pulled my fingers out, and she groaned long and hard in protest. Her hips lifted, seeking my hand. I toyed with her clit, playing with her, loving how her body reacted to my touch, hips thrusting towards my hand, begging me with her movements for more.

  “Who’s in charge, Charlie?”

  “You are,” she gasped.

  “Do you like it when I am in control of your body?”

  “God, yes.”

  I circled her opening, teasing her. She was panting now. Her fingers curled around the sheets. Through her tank top, I sucked on her nipple with strength, seeking the point where pain met pleasure.

  “Do you want me to fuck you with two fingers or three?”

  She swallowed convulsively. “Three.”

  “You sure you can handle that?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was a harsh rasp.

  I slid my fingers back down to her entrance. My mouth found hers. I spoke against her lips. “Hard or soft?”

  Without letting her answer, I thrust three fingers inside her. The sweetest cry escaped her mouth. I fucked her with my hand, pumping my fingers in and out of her. Her hips rolled and met each thrust with a rhythmic motion.

  “Tomorrow, when our eyes meet, we are both going to know that you opened your legs to me, that your pussy was wet and hot and you couldn’t get enough of me fucking you with my hand.”

  She whimpered.

  “And we’re both going to know that you want me to fuck you.” I moved my fingers faster, pumping into her soft feminine depths.

  “Oh God,” she cried.

  “Say it. Tell me how much you want me to fuck you.” My fingers, wet with her desire, mimicked what my cock wanted to do.

  “Say it, Charlie,” I demanded.

  “I want you to fuck me,” she begged.

  “Promise me that tomorrow, when you catch me looking at you, you will think of how you came so hard over my fingers.”

  She lifted her head, looking down at my hand, watching as my fingers moved into her body. Her voice was weak. “I promise.”

  I buried my fingers and then curled them until I found her g-spot. I stroked it, knowing she was close. Her entire body arched at my touch.

  “Who’s in control of you, Charlie?”

  “You are,” she panted.

  “Say my name.”

  “You’re in control, Mica.”

  My name sounded so sweet on her lips.

  “Good girl.” I expertly pushed her over the edge and watched in wonder as she came apart. Her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth was open slightly and her entire body stiffened and arched while her pulsing, throbbing pussy spasmed around my fingers. It clenched my fingers hard as her orgasm rolled through her. I spread my fingers wider and continued to stroke her inner spot, watching as a second, more intense orgasm rolled over her first one.

  She whimpered while her orgasm stole her breath and overtook every muscle in her body.

  “Want another one?” I leaned forward and kissed her mouth.

  “No,” she begged. “I can’t.”

  “I think you can.” I began to stroke her g-spot and pressed my thumb against her clit while my final finger pushed against her other hole.

  “You’re mine,” I told her. “You’re my wife, and this body is mine.”

  She gave a muffled scream as a third, violent orgasm slammed into her. Her entire body came off the bed except for her heels and her shoulders. I milked that orgasm until she collapsed back onto the bed and her hands were trying to pull mine away.

  I held my fingers deep inside of her, not wanting to miss one second of her inner walls shuddering and clenching my fingers.

  She was panting hard, her eyes wide on my face. I felt a primal victory, like I had won a prize.

  I pressed my mouth onto hers as I slowly pulled my fingers out of her. She cried out and then curled her shaking body into mine. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her as post-orgasmic tremors jerked through her. I buried my face into her neck, loving her scent, loving how she felt against me.

  “This is just the beginning,” I promised her as I kissed the rapid pulse in her neck.

  She nodded against my chest.

  We had crossed a line tonight that couldn’t be uncrossed, and I didn’t give a fuck. I wanted her more than I had ever wanted a woman, and I knew she wanted me too. Our situation was complicated but when she came near me, it was very simple. The chemistry between us was explosive and I saw no point in denying either of us this level of pleasure.

  I waited until her breathing calmed and her heart rate slowed and then I eased her back so I could stand up and strip down to my boxers.

  I climbed back into bed and rolled her over so her back was curled against my chest. With my hand around her waist, I hauled her back against me, letting myself grind my hard cock against her butt.

  I felt like such a caveman. Like I had just conquered and won. I pushed the hair off her face and kissed her neck gently.

  It turned me on when I whispered in her ear, “Your body is mine now. It’s mine to fuck.”

  My words caused a deep shiver to wrack her body. With satisfaction, I pulled her tighter. “Go to sleep.”

  * * *

  I woke up to Charlie sliding out of bed. I grabbed her hand, but she pulled away from me. “Sniper needs to go outside.”

  I watched with half-shut eyes as she bent down to pick up her panties, giving me the perfect shot of her ass. She disappeared into the walk-in closet before reappearing fully dressed.

  “You’re wearing too many clothes,” my voice muffled into the pillow.

  She blushed and ducked her head. “Sleep some more. You need it.”

  * * *

  I woke up to the sound of a hairdryer. I got out of bed and walked into the bathroom. Charlie stood in the middle of the bathroom, wearing a matching yellow bra and panties while she blow-dried her hair.

  I eyeballed her lush body and stretched behind her, rubbing my messy hair. “Come have a shower with me.”

  “I just showered.”

  Defiantly feisty. I liked it. I went around the corner to shower. My morning wood wasn’t going away as I thought about how hot she looked half-naked. I thought about last night, and how I had touched her, until my cock was raging hard and ready to go.

  I came back around the corner, a towel wrapped around my waist. Usually, women and their routines got in my way and annoyed me, but Charlie applying eye makeup in my bathroom felt right. I moved too close behind her, reaching around her to grab my toothbrush.

  “Sorry,” I said, not sorry at all.

  She flushed and our eyes made contact in the mirror. Standing behind her, I brushed my teeth, using every opportunity to rub against her when I needed the sink. She said nothing, but a small smile played on her lips.

  I watched her slowly smooth clear gloss over her open lips. I stepped behind her and ground myself against her. In the mirror’s reflection, her eyes widened as she felt my hard cock.

  I knew I should take this slow, let her get used to the idea of us being together, but doing what is smart and doing what I want are usually two different things.

  “I want your smart-ass mouth on my cock.”

  Her eyes w
idened. “Excuse me?”

  “I want to fuck your face.”

  I fully expected her to sass me before walking off, but she turned around, her fingers clenching the vanity. “I should go get breakfast ready.”

  Putting both hands on either side of her, I basically pinned her to the vanity. Why the fuck I loved to push her buttons, I had no idea. But the fact she hadn’t already told me to fuck off made me want to push her further. I wanted to get her riled up. I wanted to say things that were so far over the line it was almost laughable.

  “Don’t test me. If your husband wants you to suck on his cock, you get on your knees and you suck.”

  Her eyes widened, and to my fucking amazement, she reached down and, through the towel, grabbed my dick in her hand. And it dawned on me: she wanted this as bad as I did, and she liked the dirty talk. A lot.

  She lightly squeezed me, making my lip curl.

  Holy fucking fuck. Her hand felt amazing.

  I blindly tried to focus, but all I could think about was how she was squeezing me. I needed to drop this towel. I dipped my head and put my mouth on her neck, loving how she tasted. She shivered and her hand tightened.

  A knock sounded on our bedroom door, making me lift my head. Charlie’s eyes opened wide, and she started to loosen her hold.

  “No,” I told her with a half-smile. “Letting go of my dick is not an option.”

  “Charlie?” My mom called. I heard the bedroom door click open. “Charlie, are you up?”

  “She’ll be out in a minute,” I yelled back in Russian, my tone less than welcoming. I glanced down at Charlie, who exceeded all my fantasies. She looked stunning in her underwear, showcasing her sexy body. Her eyes were wide while she listened, but she kept her grip on my cock. I needed to lift her on this vanity, spread her legs and show her how good I could really make her feel. We both wanted it.

  My mom didn’t seem to want to take the fucking hint. “Can you tell her that there is someone at the front door for her?”

  “Tell them to come back.”