“I know. I like it.”

She smiled. “Maybe we could have a shower.”

“That is a fucking awesome idea.” He was off the bed in a flash, arm around her and leading her to the bathroom.

At the bathroom door, she paused. “Hey. Let’s have a bath instead.”

“Sure.”

“But not here. Let’s use Duncan’s bathroom. He’s got that huge soaker tub.”

“No.” His jaw set.

“Why not?” She blinked big eyes up at him. “He’s not home. He’ll never know.”

“He’ll know. He’ll sense it. Somehow. I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel right.”

“Oh, come on. Have you seen his tub?”

“Yeah.” His mouth lifted at one corner.

“You’re a big guy. Two of us in that little tub in our bathroom won’t work. Think how nice it’ll feel, naked in a tub of hot water…maybe some bubbles…” She rose on toes and brushed her mouth over his stubbly jaw.

“You do this every time,” he muttered. “Fine. Just saying, this is against my better judgment.”

“It’ll be fine.” She led the way into Duncan’s bedroom and then the attached bathroom. Which was amazing, all tiled in mocha and cream tiles, with a huge glassed-in shower with multiple jets and a big oval tub on a raised platform.

She cranked the water on, held her fingers beneath the stream to test the heat, adjusted it a little hotter. While it filled, she grabbed a big towel off a hook and wrapped it around her, then zipped back to their bathroom to scoop up more of her own towels and a bottle of bubble bath.

“Am I going to smell like cupcakes?” He eyed the container in her hand.

“Mmm, yeah. Hope you don’t mind.”

“I like smelling you,” he admitted. “Not sure if I want to smell that sweet.”

“You won’t.” She moved up to him again, hands flat on his chest. “You’ll smell like masculine cupcakes.”

He choked on a laugh. “Okay.”

He helped her step in and followed her. She poured bubble bath in and soon they were sitting surrounded by bubbles and steam. Marc moved behind her and she leaned back against his chest. His arms came around her, his legs on either side of hers, and they relaxed into the liquid heat.

“This is so nice,” she murmured. “The massage. The pizza. The bath.”

“The orgasms.”

“Yeah. Those too.” She slid a little to the side so she could look up at him behind her. “The orgasms were amazing.”

He cupped one breast in a big hand, sloshing water a little, and she let her head fall back to his chest. She felt like she was dissolving in the water, boneless and floaty and dreamy.

A noise from the front of the condo had her eyes snapping open and her muscles contracting.

Marc’s body behind her did the same. “Mon ostie de saint-sacrament de câlice de crisse!”

“Is that Duncan?” Stupid question. Who else would it be? “Shit, shit, shit!” She scrambled up and out of the water, over the side of the tub. Her foot slipped and she grabbed the edge, regained her balance, scooped up one of the towels. “Open the drain, open the drain!”

“It’s too late, Lovey.” Marc’s voice held resignation and an edge of anger. “We’re fucked.”

“Shit!” She wrapped the towel around herself. “Okay. You make a run for it. Get into your room or the other bathroom before he sees you. I’ll tell him I wanted to have a bath.”

His mouth a grim line, he reached for the track pants he’d worn into the bathroom and stepped into them. He wasn’t hurrying, though.

“Faster!” she hissed. “Hurry!”

With his pants on, he strode out of the bathroom and she trailed along, her heart thudding against her ribs. Her eyes wide, her fingers holding the towel up, she watched him. Would he make it? Would he…

Duncan appeared in the bedroom door. He went stock-still, gaping at Marc in a pair of track pants, bare-chested and clearly wet. “What are you—” His gaze went past Marc and landed on Lovey. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

Lovey thought her heart might have actually stopped for several beats. It then resumed a fast, hard rhythm that made her legs shake.

“What the fuck?”

Chapter 21

Army’s eyes snapped back to Marc. “You fucking bastard. I told you to keep your hands off her!”

Marc held up his hands, his body tense and adrenaline rushing through his veins. “Just hold on, man. Hold on. Listen—”

“I’m not fucking listening! You fucking nailed my sister! Fucking asshole.”

Marc’s eyes widened as Army rushed at him and tackled him. With Lovey’s shriek in the background, Army took him hard to the carpeted floor. Air whooshed out of Marc’s lungs and pain burst through his hip and shoulder. Then Army drew back a fist and nailed him in the jaw.

Lights exploded in front of his eyes. At first he didn’t feel the pain, and he instinctively swung back, connecting with Army’s head. He tried to shove Army off him, but they were evenly matched.

His jaw now throbbing, they both threw punches, some that hit, some that missed. Marc managed to roll and get Army under him and hit him again. “Fuck! Stop, Army, this is fucked-up!”

“Fuck you!” Army tried to punch him again and Marc blocked it.

In the background, Lovey was freaking out. “Both of you stop! Don’t fight! You’re going to kill each other!”

A slight exaggeration, as usual, but Marc couldn’t stop to laugh.

She was wet and naked, save for the towel. He caught glimpses of her bare feet and calves as he and Army wrestled and punched. Câlisse, he didn’t want to hurt his buddy, he just wanted to defend himself, but Army was pulling no punches, so he was forced to fight back.

“Stop!” Lovey screamed. “This is ridiculous! You are not animals. You might think this is okay because you can do it on the ice, but you can’t do it here!” She aimed a kick at her brother’s ass with a small, bare foot.

Army growled and yanked away, giving Marc a chance to get him pinned. “Lovey, for fuck’s sake!” He glared at Marc. “Let me up.”

“Stop fucking punching me, asshole.”

“You deserve it! What the fuck! And why are you in my bedroom?”

“Oh God.” Lovey shoved her hands into her damp hair. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She was looking at Marc.

He wasn’t letting her take the fall for this, although he had tried to make her be sensible. Once again she’d enticed him into doing something against his better judgment. But he was just as guilty. He could have stood firm and said no, but he’d wanted to have a sexy bath with her as much as she’d wanted it.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

But if there was one thing he’d learned in his hockey career, beating yourself up over mistakes did no good. You learned from it if there was something to learn and you moved on. When you screwed up and turned over the puck and it ended up in your own net, you couldn’t let that drag you down for the rest of the game, you had to put it behind you and focus.

He rolled off Army and staggered to his feet. With a glare, he extended a hand to his buddy to help him up. Returning the glare, Army ignored him and went to his knees, then stood. He touched his jaw and winced. “Fuck, man, you drilled me hard.”

“You’re the one who started it.”

“Oh my God, I can’t believe this.” Lovey twisted her hands together. “You should not be hitting him, Duncan. This is my fault. Be mad at me.”

“Oh, I am,” he assured her, his face thunderous.

“You can only be mad at me for being stupid enough to want to use your bathtub.”

“Fuck me.” Army closed his eyes. “You were having a bath together? I did not want to know that.”

“I’m sorry, Duncan.” Lovey gentled her tone. “I’ve been trying to tell you. I’m grown up. I’m starting a business. I’m starting a new life. And I’ll have sex with whoever I want. It wasn’t fair of you to warn Marc off me. Now he feels horrible and guilty.” She met his eyes and gave him a crooked smile. “I’m pretty sure anyway. But it’s my fault. I went after him. I kept telling him it would be okay, because you’d never know.”