The Penalty Box (A Vancouver Wolves Hockey Romance Book 3)

I HAD PUT a lot of thought into Mica’s Christmas gift and spent a couple of lunch hours shopping for it. It was a navy V-neck cashmere sweater. I watched in anticipation as he unwrapped it. He seemed touched and gave me a hard kiss and a long hug when he received his gift. I felt good about my gift until he gave me mine.

Mica bought me a car. A freaking brand-new, gray Porsche SUV. I exclaimed over it, excitedly took him and the dogs for a drive and thanked him repeatedly, but the truth of the matter was I felt, once again, like I had fallen short as a partner. I felt horrible that I hadn’t gotten him a better gift and when everyone was in the kitchen, getting dinner ready for our guests, I slipped into the bedroom to process my feelings.

His gift exemplified how mismatched we were. Every time I felt hope that we might move forward in our relationship, I was again reminded of how uneven we were as a couple. I didn’t cry, but I left the kitchen because I needed to get a hold on my emotions.

Sniper lay on the bed, his head on my lap as I tried to figure out why I felt so sad. When the door opened behind me, I knew it was Mica, coming to look for me. He sat down beside me and studied me. He didn’t speak. Instead, he just absorbed my energy.

“What’s wrong?”

I smiled and shook my head.

He picked up my hand. “Tell me.”

“I think I should have bought you more than a stupid sweater.”

Surprise crossed his face. “I love my sweater.”

“Everything I do is small. I want to do big things for you.”

His smile lit up the room. “Do you like your new car?”

“I love it.”

He shrugged, still amused. “I love my sweater and you love your car. I think we’re even.”

“You know what I mean.”

He grew thoughtful. “I don’t feel like I am giving enough of what matters.”

Our eyes met. He was talking about love. And commitment.

“I accept this for what it is.”

“I’ve met no one like you.” He played with my fingers. “If I could go all the way, it’d be with you.”

He was letting me know that nothing had changed, that this relationship still had a deadline. I swallowed the sad lump in my throat. “I know.”

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

I knew he was struggling. “Does this stuff have to do with your mom?”

He smiled, sad. “Yeah. My mom and my past.”

I felt so much love well up in my heart for this man, I almost couldn’t breathe. “I’ll go as far as you will go with me.”

This wasn’t just about sex. This was about me, not caring that I might get crushed at the end of this. I wanted to give him my all so I never lived with any regrets.

His eye reflected his relief. He leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss on my lips. “Thank you.”

“What are the boys doing?”

He thought about it. “Mark is a diligent little solider cooking up a storm under my mom’s supervision. Jasper is fucking around with the dogs, making a general nuisance of himself and making me laugh.”

A smile broke over my face as happiness washed through me. “This might be the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

He didn’t respond, but his smile told me he felt the same way.

ONCE THE GUESTS started showing up, they never seemed to stop. I had been secretly stressed about how I would manage such a huge meal, but the girlfriend, sister and mom who tagged along brought salads and desserts. They donned aprons and dug in beside me and Yelena, working in tandem to put the meal together. Mica took coats, kept everyone’s glasses full and would often pull me out of the kitchen to introduce me to someone. It was a tight fit, but with an added table we got everyone seated for one of the most amazing feasts I had ever seen.

While we were eating, I sat back in awe at the huge group of people that laughed and talked together. The fireplace crackled and the Christmas lights twinkled on the tree.

Mica leaned forward. “What are you thinking?”

“That my mom would be so happy about all of this.”

“Mmm,” he responded as he leaned over and kissed my mouth.

The men cleaned up the kitchen and, used to working as a team, they had dishes washed and food put away without a fuss while the women sat around the living room, talking. The booze was flowing, and there was a lot of shouting laughter and loud talking.

With Sniper at my feet, I was chatting with one of the girlfriends when the doorbell rang.

“Charlie, there’s someone at the door for you,” I heard Mica call.

I stood up and walked towards the door, pausing momentarily to see Andrew and his two dogs standing at the door. Sniper stuck to my side like glue. Mica watched me approach, a nonchalant expression on his face. I felt inexplicably nervous.

“Andrew,” I said, conscious of the fact that all the players now stood in the kitchen like silent guards, unsmiling as they stared at Andrew. They were so in tune with Mica, they seemed to sense that this situation was wrong.

Andrew’s oblivious smile widened when he saw me. “I came over to wish you a Merry Christmas.”

I felt like we were on stage. No one was talking. Everyone was listening. “Thank you. Merry Christmas to you.”

“I wanted to give you your gift.” He handed me a carefully wrapped, small flat box. I was all too aware of Mica standing beside me, his arms crossed over his wide chest.

“I’ll put this under the tree,” I said lightly, not wanting anyone, much less Mica, to witness me opening a gift from another man. In fact, my goal was to return the unopened gift to Andrew tomorrow.

“No.” Andrew frowned. “You should open it now.”

To my relief, some players had started to talk again, and the focus had shifted off us. With extreme reluctance, I opened the gift. I stared down at it, feeling alarmed. Andrew had bought me a thin gold chain with a tiny diamond pendant. It was inappropriate, and I didn’t know if I felt more embarrassed for myself or Andrew.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, afraid to look at Mica. I snapped the box shut. “But this is too much. I can’t accept this.”

“Put it on,” Andrew encouraged, completely ignoring my protests.

“Yeah, Charlie. Put it on,” Mica spoke from beside me in an easygoing tone. Was I the only one who could read the intense energy that crackled behind Mica’s relaxed response?

With shaking fingers, I lifted the necklace out of the box.

“Let me.” Andrew stepped forward. He took the necklace from my numb fingers. “Turn around and lift your hair.”

I turned and looked up at Mica, who stared down at me with hooded eyes. An easy smile played on his lips, but my husband was not impressed. Not with Andrew. Not with me. Andrew’s fingers lightly grazed my neck, but I felt nothing but complete dismay over the gift.

I turned around, my hand on my new necklace. “Thank you. It’s beautiful, Andrew.”

Normally, if a neighbor dropped by to wish us a Merry Christmas, I would invite them in for a drink, but I gave Andrew a tight smile. “We should get back to our guests. I don’t want to be rude.”

“Of course.” Andrew smiled. He leaned forward and did the double-cheek kiss thing, which normally would be innocent and safe, but tonight, as my huge husband towered over us, Andrew’s face lightly touching both of my cheeks felt like a mad intimacy that I didn’t want and was forced to receive.

Andrew opened the door and smiled. “See you on one of our walks, Charlie.”

“Have a great night, Andrew,” Mica said in a flat tone.

The door shut.

Mica gave me a look that I couldn’t read, but without speaking, he moved back to the kitchen to rejoin the guys.

I walked back into the living room and sat beside Yelena.

She leaned over and inspected the necklace. “Is that from your neighbor?”

“Yes.” I touched the necklace, feeling stupid.

“Not the most appropriate gift, is it?” she said dryly.

My eyes lifted to Mica, who stood in the kitchen, his dark gaze on mine. There was something in his look that spoke of possession and made me shiver in response.

THE PARTY RAGED ON. The vodka came out, and the laughter and talking got louder. I set out some midnight snacks and worked alongside Mark to put out bowls of pretzels, popcorn, baking, and small slider buns with cranberry sauce and leftover carved-up turkey.

I moved to the pantry to find some cranberry juice, and the door shut behind me.

Mica stood, filling the small space.

“Hi.” I sounded breathless, jumpy. “I’m looking for juice.”

He stepped up to me and stared down at me. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, showing that he wasn’t sober.

“Why’d Andrew give you that necklace?” His voice was calm and even, but his words made my heart race.

“I don’t know,” I stuttered. “I didn’t want to accept it.”

He stepped closer and reached up to capture the necklace in his hand. “You know what I promised if you cheated on me.”

He smelled so good, and my body responded with surging desire. “I’m not cheating on you.”

He yanked the necklace hard, snapping the thin chain. It now hung broken on his fingers, no longer around my neck. His possessiveness made my knees weak with lust, because in some fucked-up way, it showed that he cared.

He gently grabbed my face and lifted it so I was looking up at him. “I think my wife needs to be reminded who she’s married to.”

My throat felt so parched. I swallowed convulsively. “How are you going to do that?”

His eyes traveled over my face. He leaned closer so his lips were against my ear, causing a deep shiver to wrack through my body. “I’m going to make you come so many times, you’ll beg me to stop.”

My entire body reacted to his words. Every hair on my body stood up, my nipples hardened, my stomach tightened, and something flushed hot and wet between my legs.

I really wanted to be reminded who I was married to. I couldn’t wait.

“You’re so bossy.”

“You don’t know what bossy is,” he promised.

THE REST of the night passed in a blur, with singing, laughter and a lot of drinking, but every time I looked up and my eyes landed on Mica, he was watching me with that dark, unreadable expression. The intensity of his gaze promised things to come and made me shiver. Why did I love how possessive he was? It made my heart thud with anticipation.

When our last guest said goodbye, I headed into the bedroom, desperate to change and climb into bed. I washed up and stripped down to only my skirt and camisole. I opened the bathroom door to see Mica, sitting on the bed’s edge.

His eyes traveled from the top of my head down to my bare feet.

“Get naked.” His voice sounded like a low growl.

“Mica.” My voice sounded shocked, but it also trembled in anticipation.

“Take your clothes off now.”

Finally. This is what I want. This is what I’ve been waiting for.

With shaking hands, I tore off my camisole and shimmied my skirt down over my hips. He sat forward, as if he didn’t want to miss a second of the show. I reached behind myself and unclasped my bra, letting that hit the floor, and then I hooked my fingers under my thong and slid it down my legs.

I stood before him, naked and unabashed. His eyes feasted on me, and his thick throat moved as he swallowed.

“Are you ready for your punishment?”

Why did this man’s over-the-top possessiveness make me weak in the knees? It was so caveman, it was laughable, but my body was already hot and ready to take whatever he wanted to give me.

“What are you suggesting?” My thighs pressed together in eager anticipation of what was to come.

“I want you to come sit on my cock.”