Scoring Lacey (5 page)

“Shayne!” She bowed up when his tongue swirled around her clit, the tip teasing her until she shifted under him. He settled her legs over his shoulders without breaking the circling. He squeezed her hips, caressed down to her ass and tilted her up when he sucked hard on her now aching clit. “God!” She grabbed the pillow under her with one hand and his head with the other.

A finger pushed into her, copying the circles he was once more making with his tongue. When he began to suck again, his finger thrust within her and she writhed under him.

Not even her husband had gotten this intimate with her body. He looked at oral sex the way he had looked at her – bothersome and inconsequential.

“Still thinking? Yeah, still thinking,” he returned to her pussy.

When his finger eased out of her, she moaned a
no
only to have his mouth replace it. Against her ass she felt that damp finger press, slowly, slowly, slowly.

“Shayne!” Her eyes snapped open and she arched hard when she felt his finger slid into her ass. A wicked chuckle was muffled against her before tongue and finger began to fuck her. The dual sensation snapped her brain apart. She felt it go seconds before he brought her to climax.

“Gotta see this.” His hand slid under her and he lifted her up, his finger continuing the slow plunges in and out. “Oh, baby doll, this ass is begging for my cock. Still thinking, I see.” He lowered her and returned to his feast until another orgasm shattered her into a million gooey pieces. He eased his finger from her, then returned to his original position.

She stared up at him with his mouth damp from her orgasms. She hooked her arm around his neck and rolled him to his back before she kissed him, tasting herself mixed with the taste of Shayne. He caressed over her back down to her bum where he spanked her with a short, snappy slap. He combed his fingers through her hair. “This is what it is, Lacey,” he said in a low voice.

“But what is it?”

His gaze searched hers. “I don’t know.”

Neither did she. She sat up, grabbed the quilt and once more covered them. She rested her head on his chest once more. His fingers combing through her hair was soothing. He found a lost bobby pin, gently untangled it then tossed it onto the nightstand. She heard the little sound it made over the beating of his heart.

Shayne is in my bed
.

It was her last thought before sleep pulled her under.

What the hell?

The thought circled his brain like the water going down the drain. Nothing like reality the morning after.

Sex with Lacey was...

Exhaling, Shayne tilted his head back so the water rained down on his face. He had left her sleeping. He’d kissed that biteable, fuckable ass then had done the walk of shame in his tuxedo. There had been some relief to find Todd wasn’t home. He did not need the razzing that would’ve greeted him.

How did he tell Todd he had slept with his sister?

Opening his mouth, Shayne took a mouthful of water then spat it out, hating that some of Lacey left with the water. Earlier he had collapsed on the spare bed in Todd’s small townhouse, still wearing his pants. Sleep. He had needed sleep.

Because he had sure as shit not gotten any last night.

His ass was going to be dragging. The game was at three then there was the annual barbecue at Coach’s house.

Shit. Coach.

What the hell was he going to say to Coach?
So, nice party last night. Fucked your firstborn’s brains out. Did you know Lacey screams? Mind if I bend her over the picnic table because I’m not entirely sure I’m done with her?

“Awesome,” he sighed as he shoved his face under the water again.

Lacey.

Lacey of the sexy kisses. Lacey of the long legs. Lacey of the curious hands. Lacey of the succulent pussy. Lacey of the luscious ass.

Shayne of the swollen cock.

How the hell was going to keep his hands off Lacey after the game?

A fist hammered on the door. “You primping in there, Princess? Hurry the fuck up.”

And there was the answer to the how.

Shayne turned off the shower then reached for the towel, wiping up water then wrapping it around his waist. “Girl.” As he walked by Todd, he knocked into his shoulder.

“Pussy. Fucking better be hot water.”

There was. Shayne’s shower had been cold from beginning to end because the smell of Lacey had been all over him, leaving him hard and aching, with the driving need to return to her warm bed.

Trouble. Trouble. Trouble.

With a groan, he belly flopped onto the bed and muttered a curse into the mattress.

He did not need this. He seriously did not need this.

But oh, how he wanted this, because sex with Lacey was off-the-charts-amazing.

The hockey game had been retribution for Coach. His home team had massacred them. With the final score of six-four, Coach had simply pointed at Shayne then bobbed his eyebrows. Shayne’s had been up four-one by the end of the second period then Coach’s team had come to life and scored on him five times. Five! Embarrassing.

Shayne lay on the grass in Coach’s backyard, blocking out the sounds of the small barbecue. “Hey, wet noodle.” A foot nudged him and he grunted in response, too tired to do anything about Lacey kicking him. Or not, he decided when he grabbed her foot at the next poke and pulled it out from under her. She gave a girly shriek as she hit the ground, punching his chest.

“When did you get here?”

“Five minutes ago. Ish. We’d have been here sooner but I had to murder my child and bury her under the porch.”

There was a tension in her voice that made him move his arm from over his eyes. She was still wearing her disgusting green Husks jersey. The only redeeming thing about it was the twenty-three on the back. Did it say something about it him that it made him hot as hell to know she was wearing his number?

It took all his self-control to not roll on top of her, tug down those skin-licking jeans and fuck them both into a coma. His hormones were on a rampage. He wanted Lacey naked and underneath him--now.
It’s the ice
, he thought trying not to focus on the woman beside him. The ice always got him revved up, even when he lost. He supposed it was the adrenalin. Either way when he stepped off the ice, he wanted sex. He wanted sex with Lacey. Right. Now. Even though they were at her parents’ house. And didn’t that turn him into a sick asshole.

Hands braced behind her, she sat with her legs stretched out and her head tilted back. “You don’t have a porch,” said Shayne. At least he was tracking the conversation despite his obsession with getting her naked.

“Did I say I’d buried her at my house? That would be too easy. I’d immediately be a suspect when someone reported her missing. Nice turnout this year,” she said, gazing around the yard.

“Mom, can I invite Chelsea? This party blows. Everyone is
old
.”

Shayne shifted his arm and blinked in shock. No way was that Carmen. Carmen was thin and gawky. She looked exactly like Lacey now. Exactly. It was as if Lacey had been cloned. From the wavy dark hair, to the Magerin nose, to the whiskey eyes, to the long, willowy body, she looked just like her mother. Holy. Hell.

“Ask Gram. This isn’t my house.”

Carmen huffed in irritation while managing to look as if this was the worst day of her life. “I don’t know why I can’t have friends here.”

“Ask Gram,” Lacey repeated. He had the feeling this had been going on for awhile.

“This sucks,” Carmen snapped and spun away. He noticed she didn’t go ask her grandmother if she could invite her friend. Instead she went to go stand with Coach.

“When did she get so...” Somehow calling a fifteen year old gorgeous was wrong.

“A year ago. One day she morphed into a teenage mutant, a beautiful teenage mutant. I look at her and wonder where my baby went. Kevin, being Kevin, wants her to model. Carmen thinks that’s brilliant because then she’ll be famous. She’s mad because I’m saying no. According to Kevin, I hold our daughter back just like I held him back.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Throw in the divorce and I have one angry kid.”

He curled his hand around her wrist, squeezing reassuringly. “Wake me when your dad sets the grill on fire.” He covered his eyes again but continued to hold onto Lacey. He didn’t sleep. It was more like he hovered between in a state of semi-consciousness. He heard familiar voices, smelled the food cooking, felt the soft skin under his hand, yet he was unaware of everyone.

Someone joined them. Female. He couldn’t place the voice but didn’t care enough to wake up completely to see who it was. A child’s laughter, the oof from Lacey while her body moved beside his. He was aware of her hand vanishing, heard her shush what sounded like a kid.

Another voice joined them. Todd. There was the momentary panic of what would he tell Todd about lying on the grass beside his sister. He wondered how his friend would react if he had known that there had been sexy fun times with his older sister. He envisioned his dead body buried beside Carmen’s under an anonymous deck.

“And there it goes,” he heard Todd say.

Shayne eased his arm off his face and shifted to see the plume of smoke rise up from the grill. Coach waved his arm back and forth.

“Dinner’s ready,” Lacey added. “Anyone want to go for pizza?”

It was a testament to Coach that no one raised their arm. He sat and rubbed his face with a yawn. Todd had been close-mouthed about where he had stayed the night. Both of them getting laid, neither saying a word. Fantastic. Weren’t they a couple of cagey bastards?

He looked at the woman who stood up gracefully on the other side of Lacey. He knew that long blonde hair and sad blue-grey eyes. Shannon Koval. She had been at the Magerin house as much as he had until Lacey had married the asshat.

“Look at you, both in your green jerseys. Boo. Hiss,” Shayne muttered. In the annual game, the visiting team wore the Husks yellow away jersey while the home team wore Husks green. In the drawing of names, Shayne had wound up as a yellow jersey with Todd and Adam Payne. The green jerseys had handed them their asses.

Carmen appeared. “Mom,” she whispered, “Coach burned the hamburgers. By burned I mean they look like hockey pucks. Do I have to eat one?”

“No,” Lacey whispered back. “Take one and throw it at Shayne. See if he catches it. He missed everything else thrown at him today.”

“Hey,” he said, wrapping an arm around Carmen’s neck. “I can hear you two, you know. When did you get so tall, kid? You’re supposed to feed the kid, Lacey, not put her on a rack and stretch out her legs.”

“I’m the tallest girl in my class,” the girl said with a bit of a sulk. “I hate it.”

“Just means you don’t have to stretch as far when you reach for your dreams, baby,” Lacey said.

“Well, you won’t let me,” Carmen snapped, her sulk returning.

Lacey looked at her daughter. Shayne saw the little flinch around her eyes. Their similarities were shocking. He wondered if he’d ever get used to see a younger version of Lacey running around. One was enough. Two was overkill. “I said you had to be sixteen and maintain good grades for a year. Neither have happened.”

“You would let me model if I were Kayla.”

“Had she wanted to model at fifteen, the rules would’ve been the same. We aren’t arguing about this anymore. Keep it up and I’ll make you eat one of those hamburgers.”

“Pick your battles,” he told the girl in a low voice. She looked at him with surprised eyes. He squeezed her shoulders and directed her to the table loaded with food. In anticipation of her husband’s fantastic ability to char everything on the grill, Mrs. Magerin also provided various kinds of salad, buns and cheeses. She never served hot food because that would make Coach look like he couldn’t cook.

The annual fire cloud wasn’t any hint to that truth at all.

A young boy looked at a charred, shriveled hot dog wiener then up at Shannon. “Mom,” he whispered, his voice nervous and woeful all at once.

Shannon bent down to whisper in his ear while she put a bun and some fruit on his plate. She pointed at Mrs. Magerin, who gave a wiggle of her finger. The kid was getting a decent hot dog. He knew it. Favoritism.

Lacey picked up a hamburger and tossed it lightly in her hand before she grinned. It was a bad girl grin. She spun and threw it at him. Reflex had him reaching up to catch it before it hit him in the head, knocking him unconscious.

“Good catch. Had you played like that, maybe you would’ve won.”

She thought she was so clever.

“Good burgers this year, Coach!” Shayne called to Coach. The man lifted his hand in acknowledgement while giving Shannon’s kid the evil eye when he came out of the house with a pristine and edible hot dog. Beside him Carmen giggled and he winked at her. God, he loved spending time with the Magerins.

Crouching down, Lacey focused the camera on the beer bottles being held by the two men. They sat side by side, managing to look identical despite the gulf in their ages. Neither of them spoke, they just slumped on the bench of the picnic table, this morning’s hockey battle forgotten. She wanted their faces slightly blurred but recognizable. With a press of her finger, she captured the image of her dad and Todd.

Lowering her camera, she studied the two men of the Magerin clan. Man, they had some good-looking DNA. They were so much alike: the same drive and determination, the same stubborn way. If not for the arthritis that had hit him at twenty, Todd would’ve followed in their dad’s skate grooves. Like Coach, he played left wing. Only not in the NHL but in the city’s league when he wasn’t running his sports bar or being flattened by pain.

Her gaze shifted to her best friend. Shannon Koval sat on the grass chatting with Jimmy, who was married to Lacey’s youngest sister, Janine. Like the majority of the men around the fire, Jimmy had gone to MHS. According to Coach, Jimmy had the heart but held a stick like he was hacking weeds. Shannon’s dad was a regular at family get-togethers and he sat in a chair, her son Daniel on his lap as the boy slept. She snapped a picture of the family because to not seemed like a crime.