Page 19 of Puck Your Nanny

I groan, breath hitching, pushing my fingers harder against my clit. My body is right there, teetering, the pleasure unbearable, but no matter how much I rub, how much I grind, I can’t push myself over the edge. I roll my hips, trying to chase it, but it slips further away.

"Come on." Teeth clenched, I grind down, twisting my fingers, pressing harder into my nub. It still doesn’t work. My body isdesperate, trembling, sweat slicking my skin, but the orgasm won’t come. My clit pulses, over-sensitive, aching for more. No matter how much I stroke, rub, or roll my hips, it won’t happen. The pleasure builds and fades, a cruel tease, leaving me panting and writhing in frustration.

I whimper, nails digging into my thigh. My fingers keep moving, keep searching, but it’s useless. My body refuses to give me the relief I need. The frustration is unbearable, my skin hot; my muscles tremble from exertion.

A fine layer of sweat clings to my skin as I struggle for breath.. I sink back against the pillows, legs shaky, body spent, yet still thrumming with unfulfilled need. The heat lingers. My hand falls to the side, aching too, as my muscles refuse to keep going.

Frustration claws at me. My fingers flex, aching to try again, but I know it’s useless. My gaze flicks toward the nightstand, where my dildo is tucked away. My last resort. My breath shudders as I force myself up, legs trembling, and yank open the drawer.

The smooth blue silicone is familiar against my palm as I retrieve it. I don’t waste time settling back onto the bed, spreading my legs. The tip presses against my entrance, and I push it inside with a sharp intake of breath. My walls clench around it, my body eager, desperate for relief. I thrust it in, as deep as it will go; pulling it out and slamming it back in with a force I've never used before, trying to hit something, anything, that will tip me over the edge.

Nothing.

It feels wrong. Too small. Not enough. The stretch is barely there, the fullness unsatisfying. I move faster, twisting it, angling it differently, but all it does is tease, just like my fingers. The pleasure is there, but it’s not enough.It will never be enough.

I choke out a frustrated sound, yanking the toy out and throwing it onto the bed beside me. My body aches, unsatisfied,the need pulsing stronger than before. My chest heaves as I press my palms over my face, dragging them down.

Fuck. I’m an Omega. I’m going to be out of another job. I'll be homeless; no one wants to hire an Omega. The shelter will be my only option. I’m not the Beta they wanted.What am I going to do?I have to care for William.How can I do it if I’m a horny mess?

Chapter 6

The puck slams into my glove, rattling my bones. The sting barely registers. My body is here, but my mind isn’t. Coach’s voice blends into the background, a steady stream of barking orders. He’s been relentless this morning, pushing us through drill after drill.

Two years. Two years in the Alpha Cup finals, and two years coming up short. Losing to the Bears was one thing. But last year, losing to the Iron Wolves, that one still stings. Coach hasn’t let us forget it.

An easy puck goes by my right leg.

“Focus, Calvin, don't be an idiot!” Coach's voice cuts across the rink. “You’re letting soft ones through! This isn’t a damn tea party!”

I snap back to attention. I’m the last line of defense. A goalie can’t afford to drift. But it’s been hard ever since she arrived.

Daisy.

I shake my head, trying to clear the image. Her soft smile, the way her blue eyes crinkle, the gentle way she holds William. And the dreams. Ever since that car ride. Vivid, relentless dreams filled with her. They’re messing with my head.

A slap shot flies in, fast and precise. I react late. The puck hits the net. That’s three since we started. Three easy saves I should have had.

“Calvin! Get your head in the game!” Coach looks close to an aneurysm. His face is nearly purple. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

I clench my jaw, struggling to find an explanation for this restless, unshakable feeling. The urge to be back at the house, to check on Daisy, gets worse with every second. It makes no sense. She’s a Beta. Just the nanny. We hired her to care for William, nothing more. But that scent—subtle at first, a floral trace barely noticeable—has been growing stronger. She insists she isn’t wearing anything, no perfume, no oils, yet it lingers in the air, teasing at something buried deep inside me. When she first arrived, she smelled like nothing at all, a blank space, an absence. Now, she’s anything but.

It’s crawling under my skin. I’ve never felt this way before, not even with the Omegas we’ve courted in the past. They never quite did it for us, never felt right. This is different. This is confusing.

The whistle blows."Ten minute break, get your fucking heads screwed on right!"

End of the drill. I skate toward the bench, tearing off my mask and gulp down water. It doesn’t help. My mind won’t stop racing. I glance at the clock. 7:30 AM. Still hours before practice ends. Hours before I can go home. Hours before I can…what? See her again? Make sure she’s alright?The thought is ridiculous. She’s capable. She’s taking care of William. That’s her job.

But the nagging feeling persists, a knot tightening in my chest. I hate this. I hate this uncertainty, this feeling of not understanding my own instincts. I just want to go home. But Coach is determined to make us bleed for the Alpha Cup.

I slam my water bottle down. I have to focus. On hockey. On anything but Daisy.

Easier said than done.

Minutes later, coach blows the whistle again, sharp and shrill. We line up for the next drill, a rapid-fire succession of shots. It’s designed to test reflexes, agility, and concentration. All things I’m struggling with today.

The first few pucks come. I block them, relying on muscle memory, but my movements are sluggish. I can feel Coach’s stare burning into me, his silence heavier than any shouted insult.

Another shot.

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