Misconduct (Hot Ice series Book 6) (12 page)

His turned back to me, grinned and cupped my cheek. “Hey,
don’t look so worried, it’s just a bit of fun.” He stroked his thumb beneath my
eye. “I’m comfortable enough with my masculinity and my love of women to know
that enjoying a little ass play doesn’t make me gay.”

“I can vouch for that,” I said, studying the dark lines that
ringed his irises. We were so close and I was still gently caressing his cock.
“You definitely like women and you certainly know your way around the female
body.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Mmm, I do.” I kissed him softly and slipped my index finger
over his slit.

“Ah, yeah,” he whispered against my lips. “Touch me, all
over, inside and out. That would make this perfect, sweet cheeks.”

“Might just be time for me to get acquainted with
your
sweet
cheeks,” I murmured. “Help me on with this thing.”

God, we were really going to do this.
I
was really
going to do this. It had never been a fantasy to use a strap-on, not even a
thought, but now, well, now I was keen for the action to start.

Dustin smiled. It was a lopsided grin that held nothing
back, he was eager for this.

I stood, rid my mind of curious thoughts and set about stepping
into the strappy panties. Once pulled up, the cock stuck proud and upright from
my mound. The feel of it, the sight of it, was strangely liberating and power
inducing. I stroked it the same way I had Dustin’s and tried to imagine the
sensations had it been real flesh.

“Couldn’t hide that under one of those itsy-bitsy skirts you
wear,” he said, rubbing his cheek and creating a sandpapery sound with his
stubble and palm.

I half smiled, but it was strange this glut of power my new
cock gave me. I stepped toward the bathroom, felt it bob, the weight of it
tugging the harness. God, was this how men felt all the time? No wonder they
were always on the prowl.

I tugged open a bathroom cabinet, tutted when I didn’t find
what I was looking for and pulled at a drawer instead. Perfect. A full tube of
lube.

I filled the sink, took out a washcloth and washed the dildo
in hot, soapy water. It smelled new, of silicone, like it was fresh from
whatever factory made fake dicks.

When I went back into the bedroom Dustin was rubbing his
cock with languid movements, but his posture wasn’t lazy, he was tense, primed
for takeoff, something about the spread of his legs and hunch of shoulders
reminded me of how he stood in goal. Seeing him like that naked was glorious,
his wide chest was rising and falling, his solid abdomen displaying all of his
prominent muscles.

I stopped right in front of him. “Close your eyes,” I said
quietly, recalling what he’d said to me. “I want to adore you, touch you all
over inside and out and make you forget who you are and why you’re here. Just
give yourself over to me so I can bring you pleasure and then hold you together
when your release threatens to drag your balls right out of your body and you
feel like you’ll never stop coming.”

His mouth fell a little slack. He stared at me for a moment
and then shut his eyes.

Where had all that come from? Shit. I hoped to hell I could
keep my promises.

I swallowed and took a deep breath. One thing was for sure,
I wouldn’t find out unless I gave it a go.

I reached for one of the scarves and then tied it around his
head. It was pale yellow and edged with pink. The colors didn’t suit him, but
what did suit Dustin was having him quiet, turned-on and doing as I told
him—for once.

“Stop playing with yourself,” I said, unfurling his fingers
from his cock. “That’s for me to do.”

He immediately set his hands on the bed, slightly behind
himself.

I took over the slow up-down movement on his cock, leaned
forward and kissed his cheek, his neck and onto his collarbone. He tasted
salty, a mixture of the sea and sweat from our exertions earlier, and his skin
was warm and hard. “Relax,” I said. “You were able to do exactly what you
wanted to me—”

“Are you complaining?”

“Hell, no. But now it’s my turn. Lie down. On your side.” I released
his erection.

The mattress shook as he shunted up the bed and flopped away
from me. The ends of the scarf trailed onto the pillow behind him and he
clenched his fists, one on the sheet in front of him and the other on his hip.

For a moment I stared at his big, hard, body. He was quite
possibly the hottest, roughest guy I’d ever had naked fun with. Then I curled
in behind him, my fake cock sliding against his tense buttocks.

I swept my upper hand down the length of his body, felt him
quiver beneath my touch. Again I kissed him, licked him too. I wanted to
explore every inch of him. His broad back was gorgeous, acres of flesh all
sun-kissed and smooth.

He moaned a little, deep in his chest, and I drifted my hand
down his hip, over his hand to his knee. “Pull your leg up,” I said, my lips
moving against his flesh. “So I can touch you where you want me most.”

Again the bed shifted, so did I as he pulled his top leg
upward, bending it at the knee and then clasping his shin. It seemed as good as
position as any to prep him and I wanted to play with his cock too. Grip it in
my hands as he came so I could feel the cum spurting up and out.

Quickly I discarded the lid of the lube and flooded my
fingers. I wasn’t particularly experienced in this but I knew enough to
understand that he’d need to be plenty moist to take my big dick.

“You okay?” I asked, nipping his shoulder and then kissing
the sore spot.

“Fuck yeah…” His voice was breathy. Anticipation?
Excitement? A combination of both?

“Good, now just relax.”

He gasped a little as I spread cool lube around his anus and
then slid my fingers forward to caress his balls. They were soft and hairless,
partially retracted because of how turned-on he was. I took that as a good
sign.

Then I went back to his pucker and smeared the slippery
wetness over the small wrinkles of skin.

He trembled, a full body shake. I kissed and licked the base
of his neck, making soothing noises. It was strange, this switch in control.
But I liked it, more than liked it. I had the baddest, toughest goaltender in
the NHL shivering for my touch, aching for my penetration, I was flying high on
power and also in humbled awe of his trust.

I slipped one finger into his dark heat, just the tip.

“Ah Jesus, you touching me like that.” He twisted his head
on the pillow. “Fucking awesome, but I can take it all, just do it…”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, fuck, I’m going to explode if you don’t do it soon.”

“Are you giving me instructions when I’m the one in charge?”
I couldn’t help but smile even though my tone was stern.

“Nope, just a fucking suggestion.” He groaned when I gave it
to him right up to my knuckle. The deep softness of his insides was such a
contrast to his hard exterior. I stroked a little, searching for the hard nub I
knew would be there somewhere.

A denseness on the inside wall caught my attention and I
rubbed over it.

He just about shot off the bed. “Fuck,” he grunted. “Fuck,
fuck, fuck.”

“Mmm, I think it’s time for that,” I said, sliding my finger
from his ass.

He was panting as I lubed up the dildo, his leg still braced
upward, giving me access.

I adjusted my position a little so I could make sure I had
accurate aim, and then, with the tip of the cock positioned at his hole, I
pushed in a fraction of an inch.

He resisted, or at least his ass did. Not surprising—it was
a big cock.

Carefully I moved in real close again, pressing my breasts
into his back and reaching between his arm and his leg for his cock. “Take me,”
I murmured. “Let me in.”

“Just do it,” he said, wrapping his free hand around mine as
I fisted his shaft. “Just fucking do it.” He set up a firm pressure and a
determined pace, masturbating by using my hand beneath his.

I pushed harder, curling my hips, and felt a sudden give. My
cock slid in an inch or so and then I stilled to let him adjust to the size.

“Oh, fuck…” he groaned.

My heart was thudding, my belly tense and my clit was
throbbing against the front of the panties. I reckoned it wouldn’t take much to
tip me over the edge too. I was dizzy with desire, hyped up with lust, but I had
to keep it controlled. Dustin was relying on me to.

“Feeling good?” I asked.

“Hell yeah!”

I gave him more, loving how my increased entry extracted a
moan and a tremble and then as I went higher a gasp and a jerk.

“More?” I asked.

“Yes, more. All the way.” He was moving my hand faster on
his cock, almost as though using that sensation as a distraction from the
burning stretch of my invasion.

“I’m going to give you the whole thing now,” I said. “The
way you did me, out there. Just fucking fucked me.”

“Yeah, fuck me, sweet cheeks, fuck me, fuck me…”

I released his cock and brought my hand down on his ass, a
stinging slap that hurt my palm and sang around the room.

He cried out, surprise more than pain I guessed.

“I’ll fuck you when I’m ready. I’m in charge, I’m the boss.”
I took a hold of his shaft again and once more he covered my knuckles with his
palm and squeezed as I jerked him off.

“Don’t I fucking know it.” He tipped his head backward,
squashing his crown into my face. “Jesus Christ…ah…”

He couldn’t wait any longer.

Neither could I.

“Hold on to something,” I said. “You’ll need to.”

As I’d spoken I’d ridden to full penetration, seating the
dildo as high as it would go.

“Ah, damn it.” His voice sounded strangled but he pushed
down, as though wanting more.

There was no more to give, so I withdrew, drove back in,
hoping that my angle was rubbing over his prostate.

It seemed it had. The guttural whimper that vibrated through
his body was like nothing I’d ever heard before.

“Yeah, like that,” he gasped when I stilled at full depth.
“Oh, yeah, give it to me like that. More, more…”

I remembered what it had been like for me in my dark world,
just sensation and his touch, his kisses, his determination to make me come
spectacularly. So I began to work a rhythm, pulling almost out and easing in.
His hole took me easily now, so it seemed, and his insides accepted me. Each
time the root of the cock buried deep, the panties rubbed on my clit and the
pressure in my pelvis was mounting. It spurred me on—perhaps I too would come.

His cock was solid. I wasn’t sure how much harder it could
get before he climaxed. That wouldn’t be long. I was making sure the cant of my
hips was just right on each thrust. Each time the flare of the cock head butted
over his internal hot spot he groaned and stilled for a split second.

“You want to come?” I asked breathlessly.

“Yes, fuck, yes.”

“Come then. Come for me. Let me feel you let it all go. All
of it. Flood my hand, let me flood you.”

“Ah, ah…ah…”

He arched his back.

I tunneled deeper still.

“Fuck, there it is, yes, yes, yes,” he hissed.

His shaft spasmed and his entire body froze as my palm
filled with cum.

I continued to ram into him, the movement creating a tapping
pressure on my clit that matched my rapid pulse rate. A small climax shook my
pussy and I gasped, the surprise of it catching my breath.

“Don’t stop,” he moaned as another ejection of cum burst
from him, coating both of our fingers. His hand was still wrapped around mine,
setting the furiously fast pace.

I was grinding in and out. Taking him right through his
release as I’d said I would. In that moment I felt more masculine than ever
before, being inside another person, drawing pleasure from them. The control,
the invasion, the possession, it was a powerful place to be.

He was shaking, battling for breath. Another rope of semen
ripped from his cock and he curled forward, fetal-like, releasing his top leg
as though the effort of holding it high had become too much.

I pressed my cheek to his shoulder, held him tight, closed
my eyes and absorbed the tremors of pleasure besieging him.

Eventually we both stilled. I stayed lodged inside him with
my hand around his cock and waited as our breathing came back to normal.

After several minutes he straightened out his spine and
released my hand. The sticky cum was cooling and his cock softening.

“That worked for you?” I asked, nuzzling the tip of my nose
into his nape.

“Off the fucking scale worked for me,” he said. “Jesus,
didn’t think I’d stop firing.”

I kissed the patch of skin where his shoulder met his neck.
“I’m going to pull out, okay?”

“Yeah, I’m done.”

He tensed as I withdrew the dildo, then seemed to flop
bonelessly against the mattress with the blindfold still in place.

Quickly I went to the bathroom and took off the strap-on. I dropped
it in the sink with hot, soapy water, gave it a thorough clean and then put it
back in the drawer—evidence of our naughty game erased but the memories set in
forever.

I climbed back on the bed and spooned in next to him,
carefully undid the scarf from his head and tossed it aside. He barely moved,
barely seemed to register my actions. I guessed now it was his turn to sleep
off his orgasm and I was happy to hold him while he did so.

We must have dozed for an hour or two—me pressed into
Dustin’s back, him clutching my arms around him—because when we woke the
sunshine had gone from the front of the house and the room was no longer bathed
in morning light.

Dustin cleared his throat and turned, faced me. His face was
soft and sleepy and I stroked my hand over his stubbled jawline.

“I think you fucked me unconscious, sweet cheeks,” he
whispered.

I grinned. “You had a good time then?”

He grinned too. “No, it was fucking awful.”

“Liar.”

He kissed me and pushed my hair over my ears. “I’m hungry,”
he said. “Let’s go eat something other than each other.”

He got up from the bed and reached for his trunks. On his
left buttock was a fading pink handprint.

He caught me staring. “What?”

“Seems you have a memento of your bad behavior,” I said,
pointing.

He spun and looked over his shoulder. “Perhaps I’ll be bad
more often.”

“I don’t think that could be possible.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Mmm, no.”

He laughed. “I told you when we first met that I might enjoy
you slapping me. Didn’t think back then that you’d actually get a swat at my
bare ass.”

“No, it was your other cheeks I was thinking about marking.”
I frowned at the memory.

He walked over and cupped my face. “You’re a harsh boss, you
know that?”

“You love it.”

He kissed me, winked and then straightened. “I’ll cook. You
shower and dress and do your hair.” He paused and spun a circle by his ear with
his hand. “Or do whatever it is girls do, and be ready in twenty.”

* * * * *

Dustin made a salad with cold chicken and rice. It wasn’t
cordon bleu but I was hungry, and sitting on the deck with him, eating, was
perfect.

I looked at the cloudless skyline and then watched a
hummingbird busying at the flowers. Dustin was eating in that functional way of
his. He needed calories, fuel, and he was going for it.

I sipped a glass of iced water and looked at the little
threads he wore on his wrist.

“What are they for? Some kind of weird religion?”

“Nah.” He shook his head.

“So what then?” I speared a chunk of chicken and popped it
into my mouth.

He shrugged. “I promised someone I’d wear them.”

“Who’d you promise? Your ex-wife?”

He snorted. “Hardly.”

I waited, wondering if he’d tell me now or if I’d have to
probe further.

He sighed, sat back and reached for his water. “It’s a long
story, but basically a few years back I was doing some charity work at the
local hospital.” He paused and looked out at the horizon I’d been studying
moments ago. “I got friendly with a kid there. He was a mad hockey fan, thought
I was the business.”

“What was his name?”

“Joel.”

A sadness washed over his eyes and his lips tightened. He
set down his water.

I swallowed, not wanting the answer to my next question but
knowing I had to ask anyway. “What happened to Joel?”

“He had terminal cancer, a brain tumor.” Dustin shook his
head. “He had a short, painful life but faced it with a smile and bravery. I
was in awe of
him
, to be honest.”

“How old was he, when…?”

“Fourteen. We were friends for a couple of years. Whenever I
was in the area I’d visit him. Send him stuff when I was on the road, you know,
try and give him little things to brighten his day. The chemo was hell for him,
not much anyone could do, but they had to give it a try.”

I felt my eyes sting and blinked to hold back a tear.

Dustin didn’t seem to notice. He was rubbing his fingers
over the threads. “He gave me these, when he knew the end was near. Asked me to
wear them in his memory.”

“How long ago was that?”

“He lost his fight two years ago last month. Fucking shit
hand of cards he’d been dealt.”

I leaned over and rested my hand on top of his.

He frowned, looked right at me.

“Makes money problems seem insignificant, doesn’t it?” I
asked with a sad smile.

“Just a bit.” He put his other hand on top of mine. “So
that’s why I wear them, and I will until they wear out and drop off. Not that I
really need any physical things to remember Joel.” He tapped the side of his
head. “I have lots of memories, mainly of him smiling.” He paused. “I just wish
I could have done more.”

“It sounds like you did a lot.”

“I’m just a guy who plays hockey. Not a doctor or…God.” He
rolled his eyes heavenward. “So I did what I could in the hope it made the
tiniest difference.”

He let go of my hand and reached for his drink again.

“You really like kids, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He took a gulp then set his water aside.

“Yet you don’t have any?”

“Whoa, what is this, twenty-fucking-questions?” He scowled.

“No, just wondering.”

A long sigh left his chest. “Ah, what the hell. It’s no big
secret.”

“What isn’t?”

“Why Christy and I split.”

“Christy being your ex-wife?”

“Yeah, that’ll be the one.” He scooped the last of his rice
into his mouth and set his knife and folk parallel.

“So what happened? You said earlier that you had great sex
together.”

“Nothing happened, basically.” He folded his arms, pressing
his biceps outward with his knuckles in the way I’d come to be fascinated by.

“What does that mean?”

He sighed. “Nothing happened. We married, in love and that
was it.”

I wasn’t quite following. My expression must have told him
this.

“When we met she told me she didn’t want children, that she
didn’t think she had a maternal bone in her body.”

“So why did you marry her if you
did
want kids?”

“Because I foolishly, like some lovesick idiot, thought I
could change her. I was sure as she got older and she saw that I could provide
for her, for always, and for a whole brood of our children she’d change her
mind. But she just wasn’t up for it. Kids really weren’t on her agenda.”

I tried to imagine being Dustin’s wife, living in a big
house full of his children. It didn’t seem like the worst deal in the world.
Not that I was about to say that to him, because I wasn’t his wife and I wasn’t
about to bear him a ”brood”. But still, there were a lot worse fates.

“So when did you realize that children weren’t going to
happen?” I asked.

“That’s the really galling thing.” His jaw tightened. “And
is
a secret.”

“I think we’re having a warts-and-all secret-sharing trip.
Why omit this one?”

He huffed. “Yeah, you’re right, what’s one more? Okay, but
it stays between us. The rest of the world thinks we split because we’d just
fallen out of love.”

“Of course it will stay between us.” Now I was really
curious.

“I found her birth control pills.”

“What?”

“In a small side compartment in her purse. It was a shock
because we’d been supposedly trying for over a year. Each month I’d hope that
she’d greet me at the doorstep with news and a little blue line on one of those
pee sticks. Each month I was disappointed when it didn’t happen. No little Reed
on the way.”

I was shocked. “She was on the Pill, secretly?”

“Yep, had been all along. Just doing the whole
we’re
trying thing
to keep me happy and off her back about it. Well…” He leaned
forward. “All I can say is finding that packet of Pills made me very
unhappy
and very much on her back. I filed for divorce the next week and haven’t
seen her since.”

“Shit, that’s bad.”

He shrugged.

“How did she take it?” I asked.

“With relief, so she told me in a letter. That she wasn’t
getting pressured to put her body through something she didn’t want to do, and
that she didn’t have to give up the next twenty years of her life raising a
dumb jock’s kids.”

“Charming.”

“Yep, that’ll be her.” He sighed and his eyes dulled.

“But you must have loved her once.”

“Yes, with all my heart. I truly believed she was the one
when we walked down that aisle. We’d met through a friend of a friend and hit
it off straightaway.” He kind of smiled and then looked exasperated with
himself. “Parties were wild when she was there, the sex afterward was wilder.
She was a goer, always looking for fun, the next high, the next adventure,
pushing limits. I guess looking back she wasn’t mother material, but that
didn’t stop me hoping.”

“I want kids.” I laughed, out of embarrassment for my sudden
statement. “I’m not saying that because I want to marry you and have yours, far
from it. But I’ve always had that in my grand plan for the future. Babies,
children, a big family getting together at the dinner table, a garden full of
fun and laughter and swings and slides.” I shrugged. “I’m an only child, and I
missed out. I want my kids to have lots of siblings, ready-made friends.”

“Yeah, that’s the way to do it. I had brothers and it was
cool. We fought together and played together. Never lonely. Always a tree to
climb or a den to build with one of your best mates.”

“Sounds fun.”

“It was.”

“You see them much? Your family?”

“When I can. Canada is a long way from Orlando. Though if I
have to…”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He stood. “Come on, let’s walk this lunch off.”

He stacked the plates and took them into the villa.

What had he been going to say? If he had to switch teams
would he go and play in Canada? If so, that would be a long way from me.

Shit. Where had that thought come from? It had just
blustered into my mind full of self-importance and blown itself up.

What did it matter to me where Dustin went to play? He was
too expensive, end of story. It wasn’t as if he wouldn’t be able to command a
handsome salary somewhere else. He would. He’d be fine. It was the Vipers I had
to worry about.

Whatever my emotions were telling me I was feeling for him,
they would have to be ignored, at least once we got back to the mainland that
was. Then my head would have to take charge again and all
this
nonsense
would be left on the island.

* * * * *

Ten minutes later we were wandering along the shoreline in
the opposite direction of the village. I knew it didn’t lead anywhere, the
sheer cliffs at the foot of the small mountain saw to that. But it was a
pleasant stroll and if it got too hot there was the shade of the palm trees to
shelter the way home.

Dustin had been telling me about his parents’ law firm and
how both of his brothers were working there now, when suddenly he’d reached for
my hand and threaded my fingers with his. He’d barely paused in what he was
saying, just pressed our palms together and carried on walking, as if it was
the most natural thing in the world.

I didn’t say anything, just continued to listen even as a
ton of thoughts tumbled through me. But the predominant one was how much I
liked his touch, his hold, him being at my side.

When did this infuriating, gutter-mouthed goaltender become
so appealing to me? When had he cleverly wormed his way under my skin?

I couldn’t answer that. Perhaps it had been when he’d thrown
me over his shoulder, or maybe when he’d saved me from the mugger, or perhaps
when he’d shown me his deepest, darkest desires. Or it could have even been
when he’d kissed me back in New York, pushed me up against the wall and just
shown me, in the most basic of ways, that he wanted me.

A small shiver went up my spine. Just thinking about him
kissing me could get me going?

“You okay?” he asked. “Are you cold?”

“Hardly, it’s hot enough to fry eggs on the sand today.”

“What is it then?”

I shrugged. I couldn’t exactly tell him that my feelings for
him were growing. Where the hell would that leave us? I had to make important
decisions for the team and I couldn’t let my lust-addled heart rule the roost.
I had to think with my head.

“Is it me?” he asked, stopping and facing me.

I paused and stared at his bare chest and the small curls of
dark hair on his sternum. “No, it’s me.”

He tipped my chin with the crook of his index finger.
“Explain.”

“We can’t…” I started.

“We can’t what?”

“This is just here, isn’t it? Us?”

“That’s what we agreed,” he said quietly. “Just here. Too
damn complicated otherwise.”

“Complicated…yes.”

“Us, this.” He held up our joined hands. “Stays on the
island.”

“When we get back we pretend it never happened.”

“I can’t exactly be seen to be getting bedroom action with
the boss, can I?”

“No, that wouldn’t be right.”

“Definitely not right.” He pressed his lips together and
frowned.

Nausea welled within me. The chicken and rice I’d just eaten
seemed to swirl upward. I swallowed and stared at a colorful bird in the trees
behind Dustin.

He was quiet too, looking over my shoulder and out to sea.

“Perhaps this is far enough.” I gestured back toward the
villa. “Maybe we should go home.”

We’d hardly walked far, but Dustin agreed and we made our
way along the sand again.

“I’ll cut it in half, you know,” he said suddenly.

“What?”

“My salary. I’ll cut it in half if that will help the team
out.”

I stopped and stared up at him. “You’d do that?”

“Hell, yeah.” He nodded. “I told you, I love the Vipers. It
was my childhood dream to play for them, and shit, it’s not as if I’m short on
cash. I’ve got more than enough.”

“Dustin, I-I don’t know if I can let you do that.”

“Why not?” He looked bewildered.

“Because it’s not fair. Not when the other players don’t
have to alter theirs.”

“But they’d never know. I wouldn’t tell them and I’m pretty
sure you wouldn’t.”