Page 1 of Decked, Wrecked and Pucked

PROLOGUE

ROMAN

THEN

Lips drag across my throat,the rough, unfamiliar scrape of stubble leaving a trail of heat along my skin. There’s nothing soft about the way they’re touching me, nothing gentle. Just raw friction lighting me up in ways I’ve never let myself admit I wanted.

It makes me question everything.

Who the hell I am.

Why I shoved this part of myself so far down.

Why I never allowed myself to feel this before.

But Zeke and Jasper… they see me.

I don’t even know how I ended up here.

I was out running in the storm, trying to shut my brain up, but somewhere between the first drop of rain and the third mile, I stopped lying to myself. I called bullshit on every excuse I’d been clinging to and found myself sprinting through the downpour straight to their door.

There I was, soaked to the skin, lungs burning, heart racing forreasons that had nothing to do with cardio and everything to do withthem.

When Jasper opened the door barefoot and bare-chested, he didn't need to ask why I was there. He just knew.

He’s been testing my boundaries since the day I found him and Zeke together, daring me to react to him, and Jesus, I wanted to. But I kept telling myself it was nothing. I forced myself to pretend I didn’t feel the floor drop out beneath me every time we were out on the ice and they’d drift just a little closer.

Clearly, I failed spectacularly because now I'm here, pinned between them, being touched in ways I’ve never experienced before.

Zeke’s hands are everywhere, mapping me like he’s learning me by touch. His palms slide over my chest, lingering at my collarbone before drifting down my stomach and skimming the hard edge of muscle. Jasper’s touch is bolder, more demanding, his hand already finding the waistband of my sweats.

“Is this okay, Captain?” Jasper murmurs against my jaw.

I nod, my breath catching in my throat.

“Roman, we need your words.”

Instead of answering Zeke, I grip the back of his neck and slam our mouths together—tongues colliding and fighting for dominance—neither of us willing to give an inch.

“I think that’s pretty clear, baby,” Jasper says, sliding my sweatpants down over my hips.

I don’t stop him. I strip my underwear right along with them, baring myself completely in front of another man for the first time outside a locker room.

Except this isn’t just one man, it’s two.

Two teammates.

Two friends.

Two people I never thought I’d want like this.

But fuck the rules.

Fuck the implications.

Fuck what’s supposed to happen, or what comes after.

Because this pull has got its hands around my throat, and I don’t ever want it to let go.