Page 25 of Desperate Pucker (Denver Bashers #6)

Maddy

Iknock on Coach Porter’s office door.

“Come in.”

I walk over to his desk. He’s frowning at his laptop screen, then shuts it before looking up at me.

“Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice,” he says.

I sit in the club chair in front of his desk. “No problem. What’s up?”

“I’m really impressed with the work you’re doing with our players. They’ve been performing incredibly recently.”

“I’m happy to hear that.”

The Bashers won their game against Salt Lake City the other day, four to one.

“I’d like for you to start traveling with the team during away games,” he says.

“I think that would really maximize the training you’re doing with them, especially when we’re gone for a stretch of away games.

You can continue your lessons with the guys while we’re away.

That way, they don’t lose any momentum on the road.

I’d like for you to start attending some of our practices, too. ”

Excitement bursts through me. My training is making a difference, and Coach Porter sees that.

“I would love that,” I say, failing to hold back a smile.

The corner of his mouth lifts. “Glad to hear it. We’re headed to Montreal in a couple of days, then Toronto, then Milwaukee for a week on the road. We’re eager to have you with us.”

“I’ll be ready.”

He walks me out of his office. On the way to my office, I see Ryker standing at my door.

His eyes brighten when he sees me. “Hey.”

I smile. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

“Wanted to say hi, see how you were doing.”

“I’m good.” I beam. “I got some exciting news from Coach Porter.”

Ryker’s mouth hooks up in a half-smile. “Yeah?”

“I’m going to start traveling with you guys for away games so I can train you on the road.”

He grins wide and my heart explodes. God. He’s beautiful when he smiles.

Ryker grabs my hand, then opens the door to my office. He pulls me inside and shuts the door.

Then he presses me against the wall and crashes his mouth against mine.

“Fuck yeah,” he growls against my lips. “Get it, princess.”

I moan into his mouth, my clit throbbing. Holy hotness.

I never thought I was the kind of woman who’d like getting pushed against a wall and kissed…but with Ryker, I love it. It’s so carnal but also romantic.

When we break apart, I’m breathless. I touch my fingers to my lips and smile, my cheeks hot.

“We should celebrate,” Ryker says.

I grin harder. He’s so freaking sweet.

“Let me take you out to dinner,” he says.

“I should be the one taking you out to dinner,” I say. “As a thank you for taking care of me when I was sick.”

“I like taking care of you. No need to thank me.”

I bite back the massive grin pulling at my lips. My chest tingles at the thought of this giant, gruff man doting on me.

“I’m not in the mood to go out,” I say.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Hanging out at my apartment with you.”

I trace my finger down his chest. Through the fabric of his shirt, I feel the hardness of his muscles.

“Wanna come over tonight?”

A wicked smile appears on his ruggedly handsome face. “Absolutely.”

“That smells amazing,” I say while standing next to Ryker at the stove in my kitchen. “What are you making?”

“Baked potato soup.”

My breath catches in my throat. “That’s my favorite.”

Warmth flashes in his bourbon eyes. “I know.”

I think back to New Year’s Eve, when we bickered at Spanky’s and I randomly mentioned it. I can’t believe he remembered.

There’s a squeeze in my chest. He remembers the things I say even when he didn’t like me.

I tuck that thought away for later, and tip-toe up to kiss his cheek.

“This is way better than takeout,” I say. “I’m so glad you were in the mood to cook. And bake.”

I check out the tray of chocolate chip cookies that are cooling next to the stove. I grab a cookie and take a bite.

My eyes roll to the back of my head. “Oh my god…”

An amused smile plays on Ryker’s face as he looks at me. “Good?”

“So freaking good.” I take another bite. “Did you put sea salt on these?”

“Yup. It goes well with the richness of the chocolate. It’s my grandma’s recipe.”

“Best cookies ever.”

I take a long sip of tea from my mug and eye the other cookies on the rack.

“Have another one,” Ryker says.

I shake my head. “I shouldn’t.”

He tilts his head at me. “Says who?”

I look at him and let out a breath. Fair point. “I’m so used to denying myself.”

“I bet that’s hard,” he says. “But it’s okay to let yourself have another cookie, Maddy. One more cookie isn’t going to make or break your fitness. You’re still gonna kick my ass on the ice when we meet for our lesson.”

I chuckle. “Very true.”

He grabs me by the waist and pulls me against him. He grabs a cookie from the tray and holds it up to my mouth.

“Open,” he growls.

Goosebumps scatter across my body.

“So bossy,” I rasp.

“Open, Maddy.”

I open my mouth, and he moves the cookie closer.

“Bite.”

My breath catches, and I bite down.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a satisfied smile. “Good girl.”

I moan as I chew, both for this delicious cookie and at how hot Ryker’s growled commands are.

He takes a bite too, then presses a kiss to my mouth.

“Soup’s ready. Go sit at the table,” he says.

A minute later, he walks over with a big bowl of soup and sets it down in front of me. I breathe in the richness of the potatoes, butter, cheese, and herbs.

My mouth waters when I see the big dollop of sour cream on top. He brings a bowl of chopped chives and a bowl of bacon bits to the table, too.

I sprinkle generous amounts of both on my soup and dip my spoon in. I blow on it, then taste it.

I moan at the burst of flavors. Perfectly seasoned and rich and creamy. “Holy…wow.”

Ryker sits next to me at the table. “You like it?”

I nod and enjoy another spoonful. “This is the best baked potato soup ever. If you ever get sick of playing hockey, you should think about becoming a chef.”

I finish my soup in record time and hop back up to refill my bowl.

When I finish my second bowl right as he finishes his first, he smiles at me. He looks so happy to see me eating.

“More?” he asks.

I nod. He dishes out another helping for both of us.

“That was incredible,” I say when I finish. When we put our empty bowls in the sink, I grab his arm and pull him against me, then kiss him.

“Thank you for dinner,” I say against his mouth.

“My pleasure,” he growls, kissing me harder. Gently, he grips my chin and tilts my head up, deepening our kiss.

His hands grip my hips, then he grabs my ass. I moan into his mouth and tug at the hem of his shirt before slipping my palms underneath the fabric. His body is hot and firm under my touch. Between my legs, I’m aching, eager for more.

“Couch,” I murmur.

He walks us into the living room and sits down on the couch. I straddle his lap and tug my hands through his hair, kissing him hard.

His fingers dig into my hips. A second later, his palms skim down the tops of my thighs, then back up. His thumb grazes outside of my leggings, right over my clit.

I gasp, aching to feel his fingers between my thighs again.

“I wanna watch you come,” he growls softly against my lips.

I whimper.

Gently, he rubs his thumb over my clit. “Can I go down on you?”

I freeze and lean back, pulling my mouth away from him. Nerves spark through me as I look him in the eye, unsure of how I’m going to say this to him.