Page 39 of Puck Love

“You’re sure about this?”Stellabites her lip as she stares across the cab of the beast. She’s so fucking sexy with those glasses on. My dick is so hard it could pound nails. Goddamn, do I wish she wasn’t a virgin, because it makes things super awkward when all I can think about is her tits spilling out of her shirt while she leans over to suck my cock as I fist my hands in her hair. Fuck. I need to stop thinking about all the wicked things her sweet mouth could do, and get my head in thegame.

“Van?”

“What?”Shit. I casually lay my hands over my crotch to hide my huge fuckingboner.

“Are youokay?”

“Yeah, I’m just . . . distracted.”Am I ever? Fuck. She’s gotta take off those glasses, or I might come right here in the front seat of my car. Luckily, Emmett humming along in the backseat keeps me from losing my shit completely and pulling Stella into mylap.

“Are you nervous about getting back on theice?”

“Baby, I was born with ice in my veins. I’m never nervous about getting back in therink.”

She smiles and sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. It’s hot as fuck. “Well, I’m excited to see youplay.”

“Practice isn’t the same as watching a game,” I admit. “We might work hard and come out sweaty hot messes, but sometimes there’s a bit of standing around while waiting for your turn to practicedrills.”

“And you’re sure no one is going to recognizeme?”

“We’ll sit just behind the boards, far away from everyone else.” Emmett leans forward and rests his arm on the back of my seat. “That’s what I normallydo.”

“You’ll be fine, country,” I say and open my door. She pulls the ball cap down on her head and wraps one of my scarves around her neck. It’s so big it covers half of her face anyway, and I have this insane urge to bop the tip of her nose with my finger, but I don’t, because I really need to get inside, or Coach is gonna tear me a new asshole. I climb out of the beast and meet her at the hood, handing her the keys. She gives me a questioning look. “In case you get made and need to beat a hastyretreat.”

Stella grips the keys tightly, and the grin she gifts me is huge. “Thanks.”

“Just promise to be gentle with her.” I stroke the matte blackhood.

“I promise,” she says in a flirty whisper, and I have to walk away because if not, I’ll have her naked and splayed out in front of me on the hood of my car, and I’m pretty sure Coach would fire me if I had sex in the parking lot of our home arena. With a wave at Em, I head toward the lockerrooms.

Most of the guys are already here, and I make it through the usual ribbing that ensues when you’re forced to sit out a game. Torres cops the same shit too, but he’s fully dressed and ready to hit the ice. Me? I’mlagging.

“Jesus, Ross, got too used to sleeping in while we were away, eh?” Eli prods my side with hisstick.

“Aww, did you miss me, Boucher?” I make kissy faces at the man who’s as much a part of my family as my real brother is. “You and Rookie have toshare?”

“Yeah, don’t ever do that to me again. The kid gets the pre-game shits, and the stench? Fuck, me. I’m surprised they didn’t evacuate the whole fuckingfloor.”

I laugh and sit down to wrestle with my socks, skates, and shin pads. My shoulder has been killing me since that kiss with Stella. Light as she is, I’m in no fucking position to be lifting anything. I’ve been popping pain pills and trying to hide the agony I’ve been in ever since. Still, with the way she climbed my body like a fucking tree, it was worthit.

I pull on my shorts and reach for my shoulder pads. Tom Gagnon, bumps into me as he shoves past. “Ah,fuck!”

Pain radiates up my shoulder and down my chest. I see red and practically charge him, but Eli grips me around the waist and plants me firmly on my ass in my locker. The room is dead silent. “What the fuck,Gagnon?”

The guy’s a dick—he’s always been a dick, and I’m not the only one to have issues with our captain. He’s pushing forty-one and has a huge chip on his shoulder. He’s got shitty knees. He’s way past his prime, and he knows it. Tom will be the team’s downfall, and none of us understand how Coach hasn’t figured it out yet. “Aww, you gonna go cry to Mommy? Why don’t you take another day off, asshole? Put your feet up while the rest of us carry yourweight.”

“Sure, I’ll do that. Right after you suck my big,sweaty—”

“Alright, girls, break it up,” Coach bellows, entering the room. His eyes sweep the team and then come to rest on me. “Ross, why the fuck don’t you have your gear on? This is not a vacation,son.”

“No, Coach. Sorry, Coach.” I throw on my shoulder pads, trying not to wince because the last thing I need is Coach pulling me from the ice today. I can’t sit out another game. I’ll go fucking crazy. Unfortunately for me, I need Eli’s help to suit up properly because I can’t reach the fucking Velcro straps at the back, or the ones that fasten at the arm. Coach watches me like a hawk, and his angry dark gaze tells me he’s notimpressed.

“Jesus Christ,” Coach says. “Ross, you’re out. Go get worked over by a team masseuse. The rest of you, hit theice.”

“Coach, come on. I’m fine,” I protest. I practically walk circles around him as I tug on my jersey. “Please? I gotta get back outthere.”

“You had any medstoday?”

“Not one.” It’s a boldfaced lie. He studies me closely, probably waiting for me to crack under hisscrutiny.

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