Page 4 of Dirty Puck

Now where the hell did I find a woman like that?

CHAPTER

TWO

BREE

Istood in the doorway with my arms above my head pressed to the jambs on either side. Antonov and Winstead needed to pass through, but I kept my ground. Antonov ran his hand slowly over the curve of my hip and while internally sighing, I bit my lip. Man-whore or not, he got me seriously wet. I doubted any woman had the power to saynoto his advances. But then the rookie on the team, Winstead, ran a finger along my jaw, anddamn. If he kept hanging with Antonov, I predicted the sexy Russian having to defend his body count wins. But this, this was all in good fun. We were friends for the most part and this sexually charged banter just came with that. All the men knew where I stood on this particular subject. I would never be their good-time girl. That didn’t stop Antonov from trying.

“You ever been tag-teamed?” Antonov asked. No. Not ever, but if anyone could’ve convinced me to try it, he’d have been the one.

“What’s the matter, Antonov?” I said. “Can’t pleasure a woman on your own?”

“You get me wrong—it’sallfor your pleasure.”

My mouth dropped open before I quickly regained controlof my faculties and followed with, “I just might take you up on that.” I never would. It was fun to pretend though.

The hockey studs slid past me, both slowly brushing their significant packages against my khakis, causing all kinds of friction. Winstead on my ass and Antonov pressing himself against my crotch. It took everything I had not to groan—or orgasm.

Antonov chuckled. Oh, that man was evil. He knew what he did to women.

“You don’t have to act like that, you know.” Baker Reece.Shit.I’d forgotten him standing over by the lockers. He pointed to his teammates as if I couldn’t discern thethemon my own.

“Are you slut shaming me? That’s rich coming from you. But I guess getting double-teamed is only cool for professional hockey players.”

“By all means…” He threw his hand out. “Fuck the whole team if you like.”

“I don’t need your permission.”

“No. You don’t. But I assume you need this job. Most people need their jobs. I happen to know that the arena has a no-fraternizing policy that all of you have to sign.”

“But not you?”

“We’re the talent, sweetheart. We can do whatever the fuck we want.”

Jesus.Of course they could. “And how exactly did you come across this knowledge?”

He shrugged. “There was an incident several years ago before you hired on.”

“It’s true for employees hired on by the arena. I’m custodial. We’re contracted in.” I walked over to him, tipping his chin down with my fingers to look him in the eyes. “I don’t know why, but I’m feeling generous, so I’m giving you a little fact about myself. Feel free to use it how you like. You will, anyway…”

Reece narrowed his deep, stormy-sea eyes at me.

“I have a kid with special needs. It’s just me and him. I have two jobs. I’m sure you’ve heard by now that I dance at Slits. When I’m not working, I’m taking care of him. So yeah, sometimes I like to get my rocks off. It’s as simple as that.”

“Not with them. You fuck Antonov and you’ll end up with a disease or some shit. Fuck Winstead—you’re a cunty home-wrecker. He’s got a woman.” He shrugged. “You want that?”

“Technically, that’s on him.I’mnot the one in the relationship.” No. I never wanted to be a homewrecker, but I needed to keep up this ruse because I’d started it and these men weren’t allowed to know the real me. The friend they got was a highly crafted version of myself. A strong, confident woman who couldn’t be hurt by anyone or anything. A take-it-as-it-comes kind of woman who let everything roll off her back. Well, except for with Dallas. He’d been a real, true, runs-deep kind of friend to me. He knew my secrets and I knew his.

But, oh god, I’d be lying if I denied that Reece’s eyes operated like tractor beams, drawing me into his gaze. If I were to break my rule for one man on the team, Baker Reece was that man. “That’s what you want your son to see? You getting confronted in a restaurant when the two of you are out for dinner?”

“Why do you care?” I asked and his nostrils flared. He dropped his hands to my hips, jerking me forward until there was no space between us, and my breath hitched.

“I’ve got a proposal for you. If you need sexual healing, I’ll give it to you.”

“You? Why? You never talk to me more than one-syllable words or grunts.”

“‘Grunts’?” He paused, smirking, and then said, “Fuck it.” And before I had time to think, he pulled my face in to press his powerful mouth to mine. My heartbeat sped up to almost a painful level. But he pushed me away just as I started to getcomfortable, running my hands from his shoulders to grip his hair.

---