Chapter 17
The house reminded him of her, compact and pretty on the outside, smart and organized to an inch of its life on the inside. The two-bedroom cottage had an eclectic mix of furniture and decoration. Colorful and charming, not quiet or calm. But totally Marlie.
Damon sat on Marlie’s teal-blue couch, his arms spread wide on the back of the cushions, the zipper of his jeans making a permanent imprint on his dick.
He’d been hard and hurting all the way home from lunch, imagining what they might get up to at Marlie’s house.
Because no matter what she said, the woman wanted him.
He could see it in her eyes, heard it in the breathy notes of her denial and the way she stared at his mouth, as if remembering their kisses.
He just had to get her there, because damn if he could wait for date number three. He wanted her right now. But he also had to be smart. She had to want more than one time with him.
The sex had to be off-the-charts amazing, so no blowing his wad in two seconds. And of course, she had to instigate things. With his size, he always let the woman dictate how the date would go. He knew he could be intimidating, and he never wanted to scare anyone into a yes.
It had been grilled into him at an early age, first by his father, that if he even thought about attempting any kind of coercion, his father would take him apart.
Then Grace had added that she’d skewer him.
And that was to say nothing of what his mother might do to him. Permanent psychological damage.
Damon had been raised to respect women. Period.
He also had trust issues after seeing what a few of his peers had gone through with women hunting a paycheck or baby daddy.
Marlie, however, wasn’t the type to be anything but herself.
No wonder he loved her.
“What the hell is that look?” she growled.
He cleared his throat and glanced away from her pacing. “Just wondering if we’ll talk today or after Christmas. I thought you had work Monday.”
“Laugh it up. But yes, I do have to go back to work Monday. And we have basketball practice Monday night and a game Wednesday and then Friday.”
“Oh. Can I come?”
She stopped pacing. “To my games?”
“Yeah. Why? Is that not allowed?”
“Well, sure. But you don’t have to.”
“I want to. I like basketball. Not as much as hockey, but it’s a terrific sport.”
“Better than hockey.”
He scowled. “What’s that?”
“Nothing.” She paced again. So freaking adorable as she strutted in front of him. “So you want to know what I want from you.”
“Yep.”
“I want a lot of hot sex. Fun times. A festive holiday.”
“So, what? Tinsel on my balls?”
She stopped, blinking at him. “Now that’s an image.”
He chuckled.
“Stop distracting me.”
“Glitter? Lights? I can do lights on my…tree.”
She coughed and tried to stare him down with a stern look. “Now hold on, you.”
“I’m really turned on right now.” He glanced down at himself.
Saw her look there and blink, blush, then glance away before glancing back.
“That’s right. You want this. And all of me that goes with my hot and hard festivities.”
She gaped, and he realized that had come out a lot less romantic than intended.
Going with it, he shrugged. “We should be honest. It saves time.”
“Hot and hard festivities. Right.” She glanced away and cleared her throat. “Ahem. Right. So we have sex. A lot. We’re friends. Then you go your way and I go mine.”
“Do I have to go?”
“What?”
“Well, I have my games all over the country, Canada too. But my family is here. I’ll be back to Hope’s Turn a lot. After the season ends, I mean. Once we’ve won the Stanley Cup.”
“A little sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Yep.” He sighed. “This is a comfortable couch.” She frowned at him, so he circled back to the answers he really wanted. “When you say bad boy, what do you mean? I’m a tough guy, but I don’t want to hit you.”
“You hit me, and I’ll hit you back.” She glared. “So hard you’ll never get up again.”
“Oh stop. I’d never hit you. I value my life.”
“Good.”
“Then what do you want, exactly?”
“Your tough-guy persona is oddly appealing, okay? I also like when you make me laugh. But not in bed.”
“Laughing at me when I’m naked would not be good for my ego.”
She chuckled.
“Yeah, don’t do that.”
She couldn’t hide a grin. “I mean I’d like to have fun with you. But I don’t want to get serious.”
“Because of Ben and all the nice guys you’ve dated. I get it.”
She studied him. “What about you and all your exes?”
“I don’t have many. I mean, I’m a bad boy and all that.” Such a crock, but for her he’d try. “Cheating is a huge no-no for me. When I’m with a woman, I’m just with her. Honestly, though, I’m usually so busy with hockey that I don’t have time for a committed relationship.”
“Last girlfriend was when?”
“Um, a year and a half ago, I think. I’ve had sex since then, but not much. I always wear condoms. I’m not about to get trapped by some chick wanting a steady paycheck from a kid I’m not ready for.”
“You don’t want kids?”
“Not now. Eventually, sure. I want to be a dad. Get married. To one woman, mind you. My parents have been married forever to each other.”
“Mine too.” She sat by him with a sigh. “They make it tough to date. I keep wanting what they have, but dating is so hard now.”
“Not to hear my folks tell it,” he said with a groan.
“They bug me about grandkids, but when am I supposed to find the time? I’m busy.
You’re busy. The whole world is busy. My friends think referring me to women who are impressed by my fame is something I want.
No way. And I’m not into the apps. They suck. ”
“Do they.” She sat glumly, her arms folded over her lovely chest. “I’m not that lucky at relationships.” She turned to him. “But I think you and I could have great sex. Why not stick with simple and not complicate it? Isn’t that what guys want anyway?”
It seemed to be what she wanted, so he gave a slow nod. “Sure. I think that sounds great. I’m staying with my parents, so we’ll have to use your place to hook up. Will that work?”
She nodded. “And safe sex.”
“A given. I’m clean. If you want me to get a checkup, I can do that. I’m a lot of things, but I’m safe. And I’m not a liar. I want to fuck you like you can’t believe, but you’re in charge of what we do and how we do it. I’m a big guy. I don’t want you to ever think I’d hurt you.”
“Not that I’d let you hurt me.”
He smiled. “And that’s why I lo—” He coughed. “Sorry. Why I like you so much. You’re a straight shooter. Me too.”
“Okay then.”
“Okay then.”
She stared at him. He stared at her.
“I want to have sex.” Then she groaned. “But I feel sick.”
All that build-up. Frank talk.
The bottom line… She felt sick.
Damon laughed, mostly at himself. “I make you sick. That’s classic.”
“No, you idiot. All that sugar made me sick. I had too much cake.”
“Nah, it’s really me. Because I’m so sweet.” Determined to spend more time with her, in any way he could get it, he looked around and spied a board game on a bookshelf. “Since sex is off the table, how about a game of Rummikub?”
She perked up. “You play?”
“I dominate. Curious if you can keep up.”
Her eyes narrowed. He had her dangling on his hook. Instead of booting his ass out, she was actually setting the game on her dining table. Inviting him to stay!
He casually asked, “Since Rummikub is on the table and sex is off, I gather I’ll get a third date to prove myself in the sex department?”
“We’re no longer limiting dates. You need to impress me, and we need time to see what works for us both.” She sounded so clinical about it, so it was delightful to see her cheeks turn rosy as she added, “I want to feel you inside me.”
Hell, yes. “With a condom I’m happy to provide.”
“Safe sex all the way.” She looked as if she meant to say something else then sat at the table. “You ready to lose?”
“Please. Bring it, woman.”
“Want to make it interesting?”
“You going to strip naked when you lose?”
“No. But we’ll leave the prize open. We won’t play for money. Instead, we’ll play for dares the other person has to do.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Nothing outside this house.”
“Exactly. Private. Just between us. Winner gets the loser to do whatever she wants.”
“Whatever he wants.”
They shook hands.
And played the game.
Best of three turned into best of five, then best of seven.
He smiled as he left the sore loser cursing behind him.
“You cheated! I can’t prove it. But I know you cheated.”
He just laughed as he left. As he made his way back to his parents’ house, he sang along with the Christmas tunes on the radio, feeling the holiday spirit to his bones.
That’s three boons you owe me, Ms. Mean. I can’t wait to collect.