Page 21 of Her Puck Daddies (Game On Daddies #2)

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O h my god. This man is so bad for me, yet I remember every inch of him making me feel so damn good. My heart slams against my chest, but I fight to maintain some control.

Of all the things I expected him to bring up, that one didn’t even make the top twenty.

But then again, I’m not a ridiculously fit hockey player with a permanent case of the hornies.

These guys must have libidos that could break Guinness World Records.

If there was a competition for it, they'd probably win, like ten years straight.

But who am I kidding? The feeling of being desired, of being pursued, especially by this massive defenseman, watching me with the intensity of a hungry St. Bernard eyeing an open bag of beef jerky, sends a rush of heat straight to my core.

A l ightness washes over me, and for the first time in a week, Eric has made me forget about Dean. Just for a minute, anyway.

Removing Dean from my thoughts, especially when the chances of him being in Chicago are slim, isn’t going to be easy.

Not with everything going on with Leighton.

The good news is that she has made some serious progress with the restraining order.

She managed to get an emergency court date, and the judge awarded her a temporary protective order.

You’d think that would make me feel better, but it doesn’t.

Even with that order in place, Dean can still harass her at work.

He can still be a threat. If he decides to target Leighton or her workplace, I can’t stop him.

The only real difference is that if he pushes his luck, tries to break the order, he’ll face consequences, consequences that could land him in jail.

I’m hoping he won’t be stupid enough to risk it.

“Well, that’s not the expression I was going for,” Eric says, pulling me from my thoughts, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you to say all of… that ,” I reply, watching as he casually pitches the idea of another fuck fest with the guys like he’s just asking what toppings I want on an ice cream sundae.

Yet , my thighs clench at the thought of throwing some whipped cream on his cock right now and licking him clean.

Damn it.

“Come on, Hottie. Are you saying you haven’t thought about that night?”

The one night that turned my world upside down, in all the ways I never saw coming—and in all the ways I never want to forget.

“Of course, I have.”

“And if you like what you remember, I say we make that a reality again.”

My immediate reaction is to say no, but then I pause. I’ve already said yes to each one of them in some form. Still, I pivot on my heel and face away from him, turning my attention to the stunning view of the Windy City.

Eric’s proposition is bold, but he's saying all the right things to make me reconsider. Still, I fight against the negative thoughts, unable to just turn them off knowing my past is still unsettled.

Every time I turned my back on Dean, he’d insult me.

At work, he’d slink by, whispering something nasty meant only for me to hear.

Nothing I did was ever good enough or fast enough.

Living with Dean was like living under the thumb of a drill sergeant at home and an internet troll at the massage center.

Or, I should say, his massage center—he never shared the business with me.

We were never equal partners in our marriage or in work.

And honestly, I don’t know why I was so shocked when I found him fucking a leggy blonde client right there in one of the massage rooms. I should’ve seen it coming.

Now, here I am, sleeping with my clients. But the difference is, I walked away. I’m not keeping my cake and eating it too.

With the guys, though, it’s different. They’re different.

Yeah, one thing led to the next, but it was mutual.

There was no pressure. They don’t disrespect me, not in public or private.

Well, if in private we mean rough sex, which some might consider disrespectful, then they can disrespect the fuck out of me any time they please.

I wanted it. I wanted them.

And I still do.

With Eric here, I feel steadier. Safer. If I ever need someone to defend me from a physical threat, Eric would be the first to step up.

And I know he wouldn’t hesitate. He’s a defenseman on and off the ice.

If Eric ever went head-to-head with my ex, he’d snap that m an like a twig.

With his bulging biceps, thick torso, and impeccable fitness, he wouldn’t even break a sweat.

And speaking of sweat…

“The contract we signed means we shouldn’t, Eric.”

All of this is my fault, of course. I’m the one who opened this door, who allowed these men to believe that after everything we’ve shared individually, I’d be open to something even more reckless.

The thought of another group session like that is eating at me, a raw ache that stirs deep within.

I know it’s a disaster waiting to happen—the kind of fallout that could ruin everything.

But the hardest pill to swallow? I can’t believe I let myself fall into Sven’s arms again.

I should’ve known better. Sure, I was weak, vulnerable in that moment, but that doesn’t excuse it.

And it doesn’t change the fact that now, Eric is suggesting something even more dangerous.

Despite every ounce of my better judgment, the thought has my body screaming with desire.

That night in Newark—god, it was almost unreal.

So good that if I didn’t have to work with these men every day, I’d swear it was just some wild, explicit fever dream.

“That’s true,” he agrees. Too easily. “But as long as the organization doesn’t find out, we can do whatever we want. We sure the hell don’t plan on saying anything.”

I s igh. By that logic, everyone should steal and pillage to their heart’s content. Just don’t get caught.

I can somewhat justify what has happened between us so far, but intentionally starting something up with them would be… wait. Is Eric talking about a relationship?

“Do you mean doing this just one more time, or like, this being a thing?”

"As often as you’re willing,” Eric smirks, his voice dipping into a low, silk-smooth tone that coils around me, yet sends a shiver straight down my spine. His hand slides casually toward his crotch, where the zipper of his trousers strains against the rise of his erection.

The sight alone sends a rush of heat pooling between my thighs, followed quickly by the unmistakable dampness of my panties.

It’s maddening how easily my body responds to him—and to them.

I don’t stand a chance against the vivid memories etched into my mind, of the raw pleasure that these men can give me, over and over again.

Honestly, maybe more of them is exactly what I need to quiet the ghosts haunting my mind.

Maybe it would chase away the paranoia that gnaws at me, the nagging fear of my ex-husband somehow finding me.

Logically, I know he can’t. He’s nowhere near m e.

But logic slips away when my mind conjures him at every turn.

Eric’s smirk deepens, almost as if he can sense my spiraling thoughts. The way he looks at me now—like he’s ready to devour me—pulls me back, back into the moment. Back into him.

He’s so tempting. But…

“Us doing this is why Levi’s playing better,” Eric says suddenly, and I blink at him in confusion.

“What?”

“His game turned around as soon as Sven brought this up with him. He’d been in a slump, you know?”

“I know.” Who hasn’t noticed? It’s been painful to watch.

“But everything changed once the idea of us being together got to him. It perked him right up. So, I’d consider it a personal favor if you said yes. Our whole season might depend on it.”

Oh, now that’s playing dirty, and Eric knows it. “So, if I say no, are you three going to blame me if we start losing again?”

His shoulders slump, but he still answers, his voice carrying a touch of vulnerability.

“No. But I’m not going to lie. Yes, we’ve shared other women before, but being with you?

It wasn’t the same. It was more than just a hot night.

There was something specia l about it, something I can’t even put into words.

Maybe that’s why Levi got his mojo back.

He might even call you his good luck charm.

And luck’s a big deal to hockey players. ”

Good luck charm. Now, there’s something I’ve never been given credit for.

“Do you know the captain goes out of his way to find a McDonalds near every venue where we play?” he continues. “It’s because he ate a Big Mac before his Division One championships back in college and won.”

I can’t help but laugh. “You’re kidding.”

“Not even a little bit. It’s a ritual with him. And Levi isn’t normally as superstitious, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that his fortunes have changed. You have something to do with that.”

I’ve been cheering for Levi like everyone else, swept up in the excitement of his comeback.

But I had no idea that looking forward to being with me might have played a part in it.

The idea that I could have that kind of influence over a man’s mindset and gameplay, is rousing.

Eric might be exaggerating, but there’s no denying Levi’s been sharper, faster, and almost unstoppable in the net lately.

All because of the simple promise of getting lucky. And damn, if that doesn’t make me feel like a queen.

For once, I’m not the one being controlled or manipulated.

The puck is in my zone.

If Leighton had suggested I take on a role like this a year ago, I would’ve laughed it off, called her out for being ridiculous. But Eric’s serious. These men now want me over and over again.

That night, I became Hottie —the woman who got fucked by three men in a hotel suite, lost in pleasure and abandon. I can be her again. And I’ll let them claim me in all the filthy ways they want.

With my confidence soaring, I answer playfully, “Well, this should be fun.”

Eric moves closer, his presence commanding as he slips his hand around my waist and lowers his head to my neck.

His lips graze my skin before he nibbles my ear, his voice low and filled with desire.

“You’re going to come over as soon as we get back.

I don’t want to waste another second without you. None of us do.”

God, his words. I can almost feel myself losing control, wanting to drop my panties right here, right now, just from the heat of his breath against my skin.

But then he pulls back, his expression darkening with intent.

“I’m pretty sure someone saw me come in here with the way I was knocking and yelling at the other door.

So, I’m going to leave before anyone gets any ideas.

And I’m leaving you with this: Our first night with you was only a taste. You haven’t seen anything yet.”

With that, he turns and leaves, the door clicking shut behind him.

Well, damn.