Page 25 of Her Puck Daddies (Game On Daddies #2)

ERIC

U nder any other circumstance, I’d assume Sven was fucking with us. Because he hasn’t had a live-in girlfriend in years.

Sure, Ava agreed to let us share her again, but what the hell does that have to do with her suddenly becoming the captain’s roommate?

Unless… he means for her to be more than just his roommate.

Levi is staring at Sven like he’s grown a second head, and I’m this close to doing the same.

“Are you kidding?” I ask, even though Sven’s stone-hard expression tells me he’s dead serious.

“I just came from the shack she calls an apartment,” he grits out, his voice so low Levi and I have to lean in just to hear him. “It’s a path etic box over a garage with barely any heat. What the fuck is she gonna do when the temps drop below zero? What then?”

It’s rare to see Sven agitated. His whole body is practically vibrating with frustration.

“So, she can’t afford much?” Levi asks carefully.

“Exactly.” Sven nods sharply, every movement exaggerated, tense, pissed. “I got her to come over, but she wouldn’t even pack a bag. And honestly? What does she even have to pack? A few sets of scrubs? A handful of clothes?”

His jaw tightens, and his next words come out low, firm, possessive. “I’m not okay with her living like that.”

That’s good enough for me, but Sven isn’t done. His voice is low, firm, deadly. “And she’s got a philandering asshole of an ex-husband. Or soon-to-be ex. She gave him divorce papers, but the bastard won’t sign them.”

I clench my jaws, but he keeps going, his expression darkening. “And that’s not even the worst part. He’s been intimidating her best friend back in Jersey, trying to track Ava down.”

The whole thing is a goddamn mess.

Levi throws up a hand, a vein popping on his forehead. “Wait… you’re telling me she’s got a stalker ex after her?”

The tension in the room thickens. And suddenly, keeping her close isn’t just about fucking anymore. It’s about protecting what’s ours.

Levi's forehead and the bridge of his nose crinkle into a furious V, making him look as intimidating as he does on the ice. He doesn't mess around when he looks like that. He’s either about to throw a punch or block your shot.

“Then we have to convince her,” I say, and Levi grunts in agreement, his scowl so intense his lips disappear beneath his dark beard.

“Yeah,” Sven confirms. “But we can’t strongarm her. She’s been through more than I realized with him. He’s a cheating piece of shit who used to verbally assault her, so we need to be careful with this.”

That makes it trickier. None of us have the best track record with relationships.

So how do we approach this?

Then it clicks.

“How about we convince her to just spend one night with us?” I suggest. “We won’t make a big deal out of it. Just say we want to take care of her while she’s laid up.”

Sve n shakes his head. “She got pissed when I suggested she go home and rest. She wants to be independent and trying to tell her what to do won’t get us anywhere.”

"Okay, so we get honest with her,” I suggest, an idea forming.

“Like coach does when he’s giving constructive criticism.

We tell her how amazing she is, pushing through like a total badass, but also point out that if she falls again, it could cause more damage.

And we’d be without a masseuse altogether. We can't afford that.”

Sven nods thoughtfully, clearly warming to the idea. “Yeah, that could actually work.”

Levi agrees, “Let’s do it. We have to make sure she’s taken care of.”

Ava moves stiffly as she steps out of the hallway, her shoulders tense, her posture defensive. “You have a very nice place, Sven, but I’m not moving in here. That’s insane.”

Sven doesn’t argue, just tilts his head with a knowing smirk. “We’ll see about that. But for now, how about we enjoy each other’s company? And maybe let us help you take your mind off your ankle?”

I shoot him a pointed look, unsure if he’s pushing too hard. She’s injured, and springing this on her might be too much. But Ava sq uares her shoulders, lifting her chin like she’s ready for a fight.

“After dinner,” Levi adds, like it has somehow already been decided.

Ava blinks. “Dinner?”

“Yeah,” I say, casually. “You like Pad Thai?”

It’s easy to order more. The ladies at that place know all three of us by name. Before she can answer, as if on cue, her stomach growls loud enough for everyone to hear.

Levi chuckles. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Ava presses her hand to her abdomen like she can silence it, her cheeks flushing. I love it when she blushes.

“We already have some down at my place,” I add, hoping to sweeten the deal. “I can grab it now so you don’t have to wait.”

She hesitates, pride warring with hunger, but I don’t give her a chance to refuse. “Be right back.”

I take the stairs two at a time, placing an order on the restaurant’s app while I grab what’s left of our takeout—more than I expected, thanks to Levi’s half-eaten meal. Back upstairs, I throw a plate together, pop it into Sven’s oversized microwave, and hand it to Ava.

She eyes it cautiously. “I’m not eating alone while you guys just sit here.”

I flash my phone screen at her. “No worries. Delivery driver’s five minutes out.”

Ava takes a cautious bite. Then another. When her eyes roll back slightly, I know she’s either really enjoying it or hasn’t eaten in way too long. She eats slowly, like she’s savoring every bite, or maybe just making it last in case she’s not ready for us.

Once more food arrives, she seems to relax, and we all sit around Sven’s sleek, glass dining table. Conversation shifts naturally to hockey, the one topic we can always fall back on.

When we’re done eating, Sven grabs the remote and clicks a button. A hidden wall-mounted screen slides into view. “Do you want to watch something?” he asks, already flipping to ESPN.

“Like a movie?” she asks.

Sven hesitates for a beat but quickly recovers. “Right. Sure. Whatever you want.”

Smart move. Not every woman is as into hockey as we are.

Ava picks The Return of the King , and while I’ve definitely seen it, it’s been a while. Between morning skate, our gym session, and af ternoon practice, exhaustion starts creeping in. By ten, my eyelids are getting heavy.

Sven is already out, Ava’s injured leg propped up in his lap. Levi is slumped onto his side at the other end of the couch, arms folded, breathing deep and even.

Ava lasts the longest, but eventually, her eyes flutter shut, her long hair spilling over her face. She makes this soft little snuffling sound as she sleeps—cute as hell. If I had the energy, I’d record it just to listen to later.

But I don’t.

Despite the flashing scenes and background music humming from the screen, my own eyes start to close.

The next thing I know, I’m jostled awake—not by a touch, but by the unmistakable sounds filling the space. Ragged breaths. Low, guttural groans. The sharp clap of their bodies meeting. My eyelids pop open, and I blink at the clock on the wall. It’s 2:21 AM.

Sven and Ava are tangled up in a mess of naked limbs, her busted ankle awkwardly propped on a pillow—not that it seems to bother either of them.

Sven’s on his knees on the couch, Ava bent over on all fours in front of him, gripping the cushions like they’re the only thing keeping her grounded as he pounds into her from behind. Hard. Relentless.

Every thrust pulls a sharp cry from her lips, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room, drowning out everything else. The air is thick, heavy with the scent of sex, and fuck if it doesn’t make my blood run hot.

“Take it,” he growls. “Spread that pretty little cunt of yours open for me.”

“Yes,” she gasps in pleasure.

“Yes, what?” he demands suddenly, fisting a handful of her hair, yanking her head back just enough to make her breath hitch.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s right,” he purrs against her ears. “It’s always Daddy. You forget again, and I’ll have to remind you who owns this tight little cunt.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she pants in submission. “Let me make it up to you.”

“Mmm. Show me,” he rumbles, pulling her head to the side. He lowers his mouth to her throat, dragging his tongue slowly along the sensitive curve of her neck, claiming her before he bites down just enough to make her gasp. “Show me who you fucking belong to.”

Doggie snaps his hips forward once, a broken whimper releasing from her lips, her knees threatening to give out.

But instead of collapsing, she frees his hand from her hair and bends all the way down for him, arching her back into the perfect angle.

Then she starts moving, rolling her hips back to meet his thrusts, taking him deeper, letting him own her.

The sharp crack of his palm against her ass makes her tremble, a moan spilling from her lips as her body shudders in response. Their bodies move in sync, a brutal, unrelenting pace that only seems to drive them both higher.

But they’re not alone.

Every movement, every sound sending a bolt of heat straight to my cock. I’m already hard, straining against my jeans, fighting to break free. God, she’s so fucking hot.

I glance over to the left, my pulse spiking at the sight of Levi watching—hungry, waiting, ready to join in. He sits up from his slouch, sliding closer, his grip tightening around his cock as he strokes it slow, deliberate, teasing himself as he watches the scene unfold.

His eyes are dark, filled with wicked intent. “Look at you, Hottie. So fucking eager,” he groans. “Taking all of him like the good little girl you are. You want more, don’t you?”

She nods frantically, her breath catching in her throat as she tries to form words, but Doggie doesn’t slow. If anything, his thrusts become more punishing, wringing another cry from her lips as she meets his force when pushing back into him.

“Use your words, Hottie,” Spandex coaxes, his grip tightening around his length, stroking faster. “Tell me how much you love being our little plaything.”