Chapter 35
Damon spotted Marlie, who stood staring at him, and sighed with relief. “There you are.”
She studied the two airheads on either side of him, the women giggling and more concerned with feeling up his chest than putting their clothes on. Of course, that could be because Lars had dared them to strip down, like the blonde normally did in Lars’ favorite after-hours club.
“Marlie, do you know how to get puke out of a wool blend?”
He shrugged himself away from the busty blonde on his right and stalked to Mickey to yank his sweater away. The idiot kept laughing then groaning because he’d overimbibed.
“Puke?” Marlie frowned, still looking from him to the women. “Um, no.”
“Shit.” He pulled his arm away from the other gorgeous woman who’d followed, her smooth brown skin the envy of every woman on the runway, according to the billboard ads in New York. Not that he wouldn’t believe it. The chick was smoking.
But not better looking than his freckle-faced , who still hadn’t reacted to the lack of clothing around the room except to give him a piercing stare. Everyone knew Ford and McClusky got freaky in bed. But he couldn’t believe they’d set him up to be found by Marlie in such a compromising position.
Since he hadn’t done anything wrong, he didn’t feel weird about the breast twins serenading him.
Not since the guys wouldn’t stop laughing.
Ford and McClusky were shirtless and laying in the huge bed cracking jokes while Connor and Lars sprawled on the floor messing around with someone’s phone and Mickey crawled toward the trashcan in the corner.
Damon crossed to Marlie, still peeved about his sweater. “This is my favorite.” He cringed, looking around for a bag to put it in.
Marlie looked from the sweater to his bare chest. “What exactly have you been up to?”
“I’d say no good, but Demon’s no fun. Ever,” the beauty on his right pouted. Then the other one did too, until Ford got up and dragged them with him into bed. He started making out with first one than the other while McClusky watched.
Damon sighed. “At least wait until I’m gone, you freak.”
Which caused McClusky to laugh and the others to make fun of him for being a prude.
“Hey, you got tits but not cock. Marlie, want some?” Lars asked, slurring his words.
Oh man, but he was going to regret that in the morning. Ford and McClusky might be off the charts on the kink scale, but Lars didn’t generally drink or get wild in public—though this room in the back was more private, away from the main party.
But he’d scored from the point tonight on a power play and had earned the celebration, or so he’d said. Personally, Damon couldn’t wait to rub this in his face. Especially when the guy opened his pants.
Marlie pointed, her eyes wide. “What the hell?”
“No, Lars, Marlie does not need to see your dick,” he growled. “Yours either, Connor. Marlie, please. Don’t encourage them.”
“Me?” Her face was red, but she sputtered with laughter and not indignation. A woman with a sense of humor, she must have finally realized the group were having a weird kind of fun but not at anyone’s expense.
“Yes, this is why I don’t normally party with the younger crowd.”
“Younger by how many years? Three?”
“Or four. They’re all in their late twenties. Well, except for Vashevski, who’s older than me. But they all act like prepubescent fuckheads.”
Marlie shook her head, her lips curled in amusement.
Then she sighed as she noticed the gray sweater he held out away from him.
“Puke, you say? You can probably wash it out. Hope your buddy didn’t drink any sugared shots.
Dye is hell on fabric.” She looked him over again, and he felt himself getting hard.
He leaned closer. “Want to find a closet and get freaky ourselves?”
She put a hand on his chest. “Ew. You stink.”
“Like vomit. I know.” He turned to glare at Mickey. “Fucking lightweight.”
Mickey laughed then groaned when Connor heaved him toward the trash can, where he vomited again.
Marlie tugged Damon with her into the adjoined bathroom that was bigger than Damon’s bedroom. “Nice.”
“I guess.” He watched her find a washcloth and soap him, stroking his chest slowly. “You want might want to speed things up. You’re making me really hard.”
“Me and not all the naked breasts out there? Or maybe it was all that cock?”
He sighed. “My teammates are wacky. This is usually why I don’t come to their parties.”
“Not even tempted by the pretty ladies?”
“Only this one.” He stopped her hand and leaned down to kiss her. “Man, I want you.”
“Let’s get out of here. And find you something to wear.” They managed to find him a sweater out of McClusky’s closet.
Marlie shrugged. “It’s tight on you, but it’ll do.”
He felt like a mummy, wrapped too tight. “It’s itchy.”
“Stop whining, you baby.” She laughed. “I can’t believe this night. I have got to tell my brothers and Jeff about it.”
“Unbelievable, eh?”
“Yeah. It’s just…” She walked with him back down the hall out into the main area, where so many famous people hung out, laughing and dancing. Lots of booze and food but no drugs. The guys insisted on that. Damon never would have brought Marlie to the party otherwise.
“I know. This isn’t my scene. Not most of the guys’ either.” He nodded to Connor and Lars, who had followed them out. “Most of the team likes to have fun while dressed. Hold on.” He left her for the kitchen, where he rummaged around for a shopping bag and stashed his nasty, wet sweater.
“You okay if we head back to my place?”
“Sure. Are you good to drive?”
He looked into her eyes as he answered, “One thing I will never do is drive while impaired. I had one beer while we were here. And no one does drugs. I mean, I guess they could try to sneak something in, but if they’re caught, the guys bounce ‘em. Booze? Yes. Drugs? No. That’s one thing I made very clear to everyone at the start of the season. ”
“You made clear?” she asked as they said their goodbyes.
“I’m kind of team disciplinarian. But Connor agreed, and he’s team captain. Right, Connor?”
Their power center nodded as he nudged Damon out of the way and took Marlie’s hand in his then kissed the back of it.
“You bet. It’s a fun party. Sorry you’re going, but so glad to have met you, Marlie.
” The blond charmer smiled. “I mean, if you can tolerate this wet blanket, you’re made of strong stuff.
” He paused and frowned at Damon. “Dude, that sweater is way too tight. Yeah, we all know you’re buff. But come on.”
Marlie tugged Damon away when he would have gone after his teammate, who flipped him off before rejoining the party.
Once in the truck, she turned to face him.
He didn’t like the serious look she gave him. “What?”
“Damon, I want you to be honest with me.”
“I have been.”
“Have you?”
He thought about it and realized there were a few small fibs he might have uttered, but all for a good cause.
“Well, ah, why do you ask?”
“I need to trust you. Fully.” She paused. “You and I are close.”
“Um, I know.” He pointed between them at the small space in his truck. “Not much room in here.”
She frowned. “No, dumbass. We fucked without a condom.”
“Oh, that. Right.” He smiled. “I want to go back and do it again.”
“So do I. But if you lie to me, I can’t trust you. So tell me. Do I have anything to worry about?”
He didn’t understand. “With me?”
“No, with your mother.”
“You and that mouth.” He smiled, but she didn’t smile with him. And he couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong. Had to be the naked chicks at the party. And, well, him half-dressed. Any normal person would come to the wrong conclusion.
Marlie hadn’t. Unless she had.
“I swear, Mickey puked on me. That’s why I took off my sweater.”
She just watched him.
“Ah, I’m not sure what you want me to say.” Should he tell her all the things he’d been holding back?
“I think you do,” she said softly.
Baffled and more than a little worried, he blurted, “I promise you. I had no idea Bubbles and Vicki would take off their tops when Lars dared them to. I think they were comparing cup sizes or something.””
“Wait. One of them is actually named Bubbles?”
He nodded and shifted in his seat, and the sweater tugged at him uncomfortably. “Can we save this conversation for my condo? I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“Anything?”
He nodded.
“Fine. Get going.”
Relieved she didn’t seem angry, just solemn, he drove them back to his place and hustled her upstairs.
He pushed her through the door and went right for the washer. After tossing his sweater and a mound of detergent inside, he turned it on and moved in search of comfortable clothes.
Just as he emerged from his closet in lounge pants and a loose henley—thank God—Marlie waited for him wearing pajama pants and an overlarge tee. She stood with her arms crossed, her gaze intent, reminding him of her mother.
“Something funny, Sinclair?”
He wiped the grin from his face. “No, ma’am. What do you want to know?”
“Why are you lying to me?”
His genuine confusion eased some of Marlie’s anxiety. She believed him wholeheartedly about the party and the gross sweater. He hadn’t looked twice at the topless women next to him. And that had shocked her, because even she’d been enthralled by such perfect breasts.
Not Damon, who’d had eyes only for Marlie.
Everything she learned about him made her like him so much more. The fact he didn’t fit in with his partying friends. That everyone made fun of him for being anal retentive—she’d heard plenty at the party. Yet they still respected him for going his own way.
His actions at the arena, in front of so many people, had been sincere, humorous, and so very Damon. He didn’t try to be what he wasn’t. And damn it all, she loved that about him.
She loved him.
Unfortunately, she’d done her best to convince him they were only casual buddies.
He’d willingly agreed. Yet he’d also claimed to be something he wasn’t.
His agent, Mark, had complained for some time about Damon’s unwillingness to give the crowd any hint of scandal.
According to Mark, Damon was too boring for some of their sponsors.
And her big doofus didn’t seem to care. Yes, he’d told her about his charities, but Mark had told her a lot more.
Damon spent more time donating money and with free appearances to help children and charities than he did trying to score large contracts.
Content with his team and his earnings, he didn’t act like an ass or make Mark’s job any easier, because he was happy with his life.
Boring Demon Sinclair.
It didn’t fit. Yet it did.
He eyed her with caution. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you want to tear off my face and wear it. That or kiss me.”
“Maybe we should lay off all the horror movies for a while.” She did her best not to laugh. “Now, answer the question. Why are you lying to me?”
He paled, and a pit in her stomach dropped. “Look, I didn’t mean to.”
“Oh?”
He paced. “It’s your fault. I took one look at you and was a goner. But you didn’t even remember my name. You’re so hot and mean. And your lips.” He groaned. “Fine. You want the truth? I’m not a bad boy. I’m not bad at all. I’m disgustingly good.”
“That’s your secret?”
He left the room and returned with a sheet of paper. “Here. I’m also clean as a whistle, in ridiculously good health except for my knee.”
“What is this?”
“A health report. I wanted you to know how much it meant to me that you were cool with me not using a condom. So I got a checkup the other day to show you that you didn’t make a mistake trusting me.”
“Oh. Well, thanks.” A little late, but so thoughtful.
He sighed. “When I say I’m nice, I’m really nice. I’m only a dickhead on the ice.”
“You are a little cocky.”
“No, I’m honest. I try really hard not to hurt people’s feelings.” He sneered, “My mother ruined me and my sister at an early age.”
She bit her lip.
“And the old man was just as bad. He was brutal about manners and being kind. This from a guy who served time for beating people up. An enforcer for… Never mind.” Damon flushed.
“I’m not badass, Marlie. I’m just me. Yeah, I’m big.
And yeah, I can fight. But I don’t really enjoy it unless I’m protecting something or someone I love. ”
He stared into her eyes.
Her heart raced.
“And I love you.”