Page 7 of Puck my Prey
"Did you ask someone?" My brain whirred, trying to work out who spilled the literal beans on my preferences.
Valentine watched me. "Her name is Corinne Weathers. I can provide her address. She was safe when I dropped her off at four a.m. No one on the team touched her, and none of them deserve to lose their jobs." His mouth shut and he tipped his head to one side. “That's all that you need to know, Cora. Eat. The headache will go away."
I stared at him. The cup rose in my hands and I took a deep sip, the action mesmerizing to both of us as his almost black eyes deepened impossibly.
"I'm glad you enjoy the coffee." And then Heath Cupid Valentine turned around and walked out of my temporary office like he had just been dismissed.
Only we weren’t anywhere near done.
I clutched my coffee and tried not to pick at the brown paper bag as his perfectly formed tush left the office.Gray sweats should be illegal.I didn’t have to look to know that the bag he had left me contained a cream cheese and lox toasted bagel.
My favorite.
CHAPTER THREE
HEATH
Five days to prove our innocence. That was the deadline Cora Brooks gave us. Four, really, by the time the team filed from the club’s glassy black doors beneath the snarling chimera club logo emblazoned across the front of the building.
Or rather, where they didn’t exit today.
The first time I walked through those doors, I wondered if it took someone a full time job keeping them clean. Now I knew the truth. Because apart from days like today, when the entire staff herded the team out through the back doors with their faces covered against the plethora of camera flashes like the bunch of criminals they weren’t, no one came through those front doors or stood outside them.
No one cleaned them more than once a week.
Thepristine perfectfacade was just that.
A fucking lie.
Which was what drew me to Cora Brooks. The same thing that made me want to work for Coach. Why I circled the ice hour after hour, doing drills before everyone else arrived eachmorning and training in the club’s custom built gym well after they left.
Because out here, where sweat rolled into every crevice and orifice my body possessed unchecked, I got a little bit dirty. A little bit filthy. Everything fucking ached. Muscles trembled as I neared the point of exhaustion, pushing both my body’s physical and mental limits.
Punishing myselffor not being there. Not being fast enough.
For not seeing what I should have that night.
And I’d do it all over again tomorrow.
But when I stepped outside into the darkened parking lot and thought I was the only one left to lock up, I found I’d made a mistake. Because Cora Brooks stood next to my bike, her eyes tracking over the matte black paintwork and back to me. Her body was encased in black head to toe; black tights that showed off every curve of her body, and there were plenty of those, a black crop, and black zip hoodie open at the front, leaving a tantalizing glimpse of bare skin at her stomach. Her feet pointed in one direction, her body in the other.
“Solace used to do that,” she said finally, breaking the all-pervasive silence that hung in the darkness like a shadow between us that refused to budge as she invoked the name of the Chimera’s prior goalie on hallowed club grounds.
“Stalk you?” I raised both eyebrows, wondering if the prior defender didn't need another busted kneecap.
She smirked, and fuck me if the way her lips curved didn’t send blood rushing south to a different part of my anatomy. “I think he has a different female in mind for that. No,” she cleared her throat. “Solace was always the last one out. Looks like you’re sticking true to form for your position.” Her voice dropped an octave, warbled a little.
Well fuck me if Cora Brooks actually gives a damn about the players she tortures.
After the way she attacked the rest of the team, I nearly didn’t get her that damn coffee earlier, but I wanted to find out what her mouth felt like under mine more than I wanted to see her leave the building cussing and swearing. Besides, there were other ways to punish a woman for fucking with what was mine in all ways.
Other ways to make herfeel.
But somehow, I didn’t think that was her problem at all.
I rested my hand on the keypad, entering my code to lock up the building for the night without looking. “Good to know I make the mark.” I held my breath when she opened her mouth to make some smart assed rebuttal, but nothing fell out. “Are you catching the bus home?” I knew she walked.
Cora ran her fingers along the lines of my bike, resting her blunt cut nails on the leather seat. “Thank you for the food today. I never make it to the coffee place.” That last came out wistful.
