Page 44 of Breaking the Pucking Rules (LA Vipers #1)

KODIE

W ith my cell in my hand, I stalk toward the door that leads to the small balcony attached to our room.

Linc is still passed out, flat on his back and snoring like a fucking freight train.

I’m not sure what time he appeared last night, but I was still awake, thinking of my girl back in LA, curling up in bed still wearing my jersey. Or at least, that’s what she told me she was going to do.

She’d come all over herself and then went to sleep wearing my name and number.

Fuck. Does life get any better than that?

Yes, you asshole. She could be naked and falling asleep in your arms.

I shake my head as I pull the door open and step outside.

If I were a real asshole, I’d make this call in the room and wake him up, but while he might deserve it, I don’t want to deal with his tired, moody ass as we get on a plane and head toward our next location later.

“Daddy,” Sutton squeals the second the call connects.

“Hey, Peanut,” I say, resting my forearms on the railing and staring out across the city before me. “How was school yesterday?”

“Meh, that’s not important,” she says. “Let’s talk about your game. Daddy, it was incredible. You couldn’t have had a better start to the season.”

“It was a really great game.”

“I wish I was there,” she complains.

“I know. I wish you were there too. So, how was school? Everything okay with Adrian?”

“Ugh,” she complains, and I smirk as I picture her rolling her eyes. “He was…you know, his usual self.”

“But no fighting?”

“Nope. I held myself back from knocking some sense into him.”

“Well done,” I say, trying desperately not to laugh.

“Oh my gosh, you’ll never guess what,” she suddenly says.

“What?” I ask, having learned a long time ago that she doesn’t actually want me to guess. Not that I’d be able to even if I tried. Sutton is nothing but random with her exciting news.

“I got a new coach.”

“Oh yeah? Any good?”

“Yes. She’s amazing. I can’t wait to see what she can teach us.”

“That’s awesome, Peanut. Are you guys ready for your game on Sunday?”

“I hope so. But we lost against them last year, so the pressure is on.”

“You’ve got this. Gran is going to video call me so I can watch.”

“Yesss,” she squeals. “I hope I play as well as you did last night.”

“Nah, you’ll play better.”

We chat for a few more minutes before Mom calls out that she needs to leave for school.

“Call me tonight?” Sutton asks.

“Of course. Have a good day—try to stay out of trouble.”

It doesn’t escape my attention that that is a phrase I seem to be saying a lot recently.

“You too,” she giggles. “Send me pictures.”

“You got it.” It doesn’t matter where I am, or how similar the hotel rooms we stay in are, Sutton always wants photographs of everything so she can experience it with me. “Have a good day. I love you.”

“Love you too, Daddy.”

She cuts the call, and I let my hand drop, along with my head.

I used to live for all the traveling. I loved spending just one or two nights in each place before moving on. There was a time when I didn’t believe it was possible to become bored and homesick. I was wrong. And speaking to Sutton only makes the longing for home worse.

Sucking it up, I lift my cell again and open my messages. It’s not just Sutton I need to speak to before the day really starts.

Kodie: Good morning, Trouble. I hope you slept well wrapped in my jersey.

My cock jerks in my sweats just thinking about it. The image of her lying on her front with my name on full view pops into my head, only she’s been wriggling around and the fabric has risen, showing off her pert ass in those green panties.

I groan, slipping my hand beneath my waistband to squeeze my swelling dick.

Closing my eyes, I allow myself to get lost in the moment as I picture myself crawling onto the bed at her feet, tucking my finger under the lace covering her, and dragging it aside so I can see her sweet pussy.

I swallow roughly as I imagine myself leaning forward and licking her gently, letting her taste flood my mouth as I wake her up with my tongue.

Trouble: Good morning, handsome. I slept like a baby surrounded by you. I hope you slept well too x

“Good morning, handsome.” A deep, booming voice comes from behind me, and I jump a fucking mile.

My hand holding my cell descends for my pocket in a poor attempt to hide the evidence.

The truth is, as I push my hand into my pocket, the fabric of my sweats stretches over my more-than-obvious semi, which Linc gets an eyeful of.

“What has been going on out here, Big D?” he teases.

“Can you just fuck off?” I grunt.

“So you can jerk off in public and risk it ending up online? Absolutely not. I’m a better teammate and friend than that. Get yourself in there and finish the job in private.”

Oh, for the love of God. “I wasn’t jerking off.”

He raises a brow, his eyes dropping to my waist again. Thankfully, this conversation has killed any desire, and my erection has sunk like a fucking rock.

“Damn, did I ruin your flow?”

“Fuck. Off. Storm.”

He smirks at me. “You sure are cranky when you get cock-blocked.”

Relenting, he holds his hands up in defeat and backs toward the door. “I need to shower anyway. I smell like pussy.”

“Wonderful.”

“Breakfast in twenty?”

“Sure,” I mutter as he disappears, closing the door behind him.

Really, the only thing I want to be eating right now is Casey.

Kodie: I slept like shit. Kept dreaming of this hot woman sleeping with my jersey on. The things I want to do to her…

I should stop. I know I should stop.

But I can’t.

The hit of adrenaline I get every time I send a message and am forced to wait for a reply is too fucking good.

Trouble: Mmm…tell me more, Big D.

“Fucking hell.”

Kodie: I’d prefer to show you…

Trouble: What day and time are you back?

Bending over, I rest my head on my forearm on the railing.

“Not fucking soon enough.”

A nother win, and I’m flying high from a goal and two assists tonight.

We’re on fucking fire, starting the season as we mean to go on.

We have a long way to go, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was feeling confident about the playoffs already.

Something is clicking. Our synergy is on point, and I really fucking hope we can keep it that way.

Two games of this seven-road-game stretch, and we’re bossing it.

Once again, I’m sitting in the bar with the guys celebrating, but while they’re all laughing and joking, I’m anxiously awaiting a message.

There’s been nothing since her pre-game message where she wished me good luck, told me that she was wearing my jersey, and promised to celebrate our win with me later.

It’s been hours. The high of the win is buzzing through my veins, and so is my need for her. My patience is running out fast.

It’s another thirty minutes of attempting to look like I want to be here when my cell eventually buzzes.

The second I feel it, I’m out of my seat and saying goodbye to the guys.

I don’t even bother checking to see that it’s her.

I know it is.

Excitement shoots through my veins as ideas of what she could have sent to celebrate tonight's win run through my head.

My foot taps impatiently as the elevator moves to our floor at a snail's pace.

I burst through the door, shed my clothes, and dive into bed in record time with my cell in my hand.

I wake my cell up with more enthusiasm than I’ve ever had in my life, and the second my eyes land on the notification waiting for me, my heart sinks.

It’s an Uber Eats offer.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I groan.

I thought I’d turned off all my notifications. I didn’t want to be teased with the prospect of it being her every time my cell buzzed.

I glance down at my tented boxers and sigh.

Needing my fix, I open Instagram. Unsurprisingly, her name is at the top of my search bar. The second I tap it, her account appears, and my eyes eat her up.

There’s a new image from this morning before she started work. She’s smiling into the camera, looking as beautiful as ever. Her eyes are twinkling, and I like to think I know why…

Just like I have done a million times since I figured out who my mystery girl was, I scroll through her photos, my eyes lingering on my favorite ones.

She told me she’d message me if we won. I trust that she will.

I also trust that she’s going to torture me by making me wait for it.

My girl knows exactly what she’s doing.

It’s another long ten minutes before I finally get what I’ve been craving.

“Holy fuck,” I groan, my eyes wide, my grip on my cell tight enough to crack the screen.

Heat sears through my veins as I stare at her.

The small green panties are back, and so is my jersey—but this time, she’s lying back on her bed with the fabric pulled up to show off the curve of her waist and more than a generous amount of underboob.

My mouth waters, and every muscle in my body tightens as this morning’s fantasy of crawling up the bed between her legs and eating her until she screams comes back to me.

Goddamn, she’s so sexy.

Beautiful. Caring. Smart.

Fuck. She’s everything I didn’t know I wanted or needed in my life.

Kodie: I am so fucking hard for you right now.

Trouble: You killed it tonight. Congrats, Big D

Kodie: Fuck, I wish you were here.

Trouble: Five more games, and maybe we’ll get to celebrate in person.

A groan rumbles up my throat at the thought of being able to touch her, taste her, push balls deep inside her, and make her mine.

Kodie: I can’t wait. You might need to book the day off work…

Casey: Oh, big promises.

Kodie: You know I’m good for it, baby.