Page 25 of Off-Ice Misconduct (Daddies of the League #8)

Luke

A ce and a girl.

He was dressed to blend in with his hood pulled up, eyes covered by sunglasses, but I’d know him in the dark.

And then he fucking pulled his hoodie off and gave it to her!

I growled. Yeah, like a crazed beast. Wasn’t he in shit with some girl over doing that? Hasn’t he learned what that means? Unless … was it the same girl? Did he change his mind about her because he knows I was in the process of pushing him away?

He doesn’t wait long, does he?

I watched from the shadows like a jealous buffoon, pacing, cursing him under my breath, letting every one of her touches fuel the shitstorm of possessiveness that was going to make me do something stupid.

Believe me, I tried talking myself into doing what I should be, heading in the other direction from McKinnon, but then he gripped her delicate hand and brought her into the building.

Is that what he really wants? Delicate hands?

Fuck that. I’d be leaving a few bear-paw hands on his ass to clear things up.

I followed them into the cafeteria, and I wasn’t even that stealthy.

He should have noticed me, but he didn’t.

All he could see was her. Some might call what I was doing stalking, but I saw it as an opportunity to watch him candidly.

He’s naturally flirtatious. No wonder he attracts people like bees to honey; he’s putting vibes out left and right, and she’s soaking them up.

When she left, she kissed his cheek—kissed his motherfucking cheek!—and made off with his hoodie, which as far as I’m concerned is a form of marking.

And the die was cast.

Uncle was right. Tatum doesn’t care about me; he cares about getting what he wants like a spoiled fucking brat. I’m not giving up what I want for him this time.

A guy like me doesn’t hide well, even in a sea of students, so I had to be clever.

I waited till he was away from the densely packed throng of bodies, and made my move from the shadows, yanking him sideways in such a way that even his well-trained periphery wouldn’t clock me until I had him up against the stone wall of a building.

There’s no one here, and we’re deep in a corner pocket.

I just have to make sure he doesn’t scream.

At least, that’s what I should be doing.

Instead, my mouth’s locked on a vulnerable stretch of his skin begging for my teeth.

I want to mark him like he marked her, but worse.

I want something permanent. Something he can’t take off. Ever.

My lips dive for his, but he stops me, shaking his head. “No kissing my lips.”

“What are you talking about, McKinnon? You’ve been begging me to kiss you. Now that I am, you don’t want it?”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to, it’s …” His gaze flips to the ground, then back to me, and I get it. He’s protecting himself. Because of what I did—what I almost did. I may not have pushed him away, but that was my intention. I hurt him, and he doesn’t want to admit it out loud.

“You’re lucky I love a challenge,” I mutter, even though my chest aches like a sucker-punch. “Any other boundaries I should know about?”

He shakes his head. “No. You can do anything else to me— anything .”

It’s an emotional boundary then and, as much as I hate it, it’s a good idea. He should protect himself from someone like me.

“You shouldn’t be so generous with a guy like me, because I will do whatever I want to you. Can I trust you to tell me if anything changes, McKinnon?” I rub my thumb over his bottom lip, lusting over what I can’t have.

He scowls. “Yeah, but if you’re gonna call me McKinnon, you have to call me the other thing, too.”

I can’t tell if he’s blushing in the darkness, but I bet he is. His eyes flicker away.

“No. You don’t hide from me. Ever. Bring those pretty eyes back up here.” I’m holding his jaw captive. He can’t turn his head away like I’m sure he wants to. I smirk when his crystal-blue gaze meets mine. “That’s a good boy. Do you want Daddy to call you princess? Is that the demand you’re making?”

Like hell will he be a spoiled princess.

His lip, the one I want to bite, trembles. “Yes, Daddy,” he breathes.

God help me. He won’t be a spoiled princess is about to become my new mantra. There’s a chance he’ll make me forget sometimes.

I’ve been sucking on his neck for a while. The scant bit of sunlight that reaches us shines across the several hickeys that have formed there. I’ve marked him, he’s mine, but does he know it?

Let’s make a few things clear.

“You’re mine now, princess. We’re a thing—or whatever vernacular your generation uses to denote together. I don’t share, and you’re mine until I say otherwise—which I won’t.”

He rolls his eyes, but I know he loves it when I call him mine. “We usually just say boyfriends, jeez. But if you wanna make a big deal, I’m okay with that, Daddy. You’ll be my first.”

“First boyfriend?” He nods. “What about girlfriends?”

“Nope. I, uh, never found anyone that … fuck. You’re my first one, okay? Can we go back to what we were doing?”

I shouldn’t let that go, but I have no damn self-control when I’m around him. Plus, I plan on being his only. That’s candy for a territorial bastard like me.

My lips find his nipples. Shoving his t-shirt up his body, I use one hand at the small of his back to arch it and lean over to swirl my tongue and suck.

In this position, all he can do is take it, panting, pretty little whimpers falling from his mouth.

I release his nipple. “You’re going to have to break it off with her. ”

The laugh starts as a restrained shaking of his ribcage, slowly building to a damn cackle.

“Luke, I’m not dating Celeste, but your jealousy is fucking epic. I knew you wanted me.”

He’s so pleased with himself.

“She has your fucking hoodie.”

“Jesus. Not you, too. It was platonic hoodie giving—it’s a thing.”

I shake my head. “Nope. There will be no hoodie giving of any kind, which includes but is not limited to letter jackets, or you’re going to have a very sore backside, understand?”

“Fine, moving forward,” he clarifies. “No hoodie giving of any kind.”

“And you’ll get that hoodie back.”

“Luke,” he whines. “Please don’t make me. That wasn’t just any hoodie, it’s the hoodie that helped patch things over with Delta Gamma.”

“If they want to patch things over with you, it shouldn’t rely on an article of clothing.”

“I agree. It shouldn’t have, but it did.”

I catch something in his expression. Something that shouldn’t be there in a man so young. Something that says he understands the difference between fair and necessary. I recognize the look because it developed in me far before it should have, too.

“Alright, McKinnon. I’ll let this one go,” I say, but leave out that I’m only letting his participation go, not the hoodie. I’m getting that hoodie back from Celeste if it’s the last thing I do. “But do it again, and I’ll punish you.”

“Ooooh, how?”

“You said I can do whatever I want. Let’s see if you’re still singing that tune when you learn how creative I can be with punishments.”

His jaw drops as the gravity sinks in, but then he lays his head on my shoulder as if it’s always belonged there. As if he might be soothed by the thought of consequences.

Don’t get ahead of yourself, Luke. He won’t let you kiss him. You’ve fucking ruined this before it started.

“M’kay,” he murmurs. He finds my hands as if he’s looking for something. They’re partially taped, but the knuckles are bare, worn raw. I need to get some antiseptic on them.

“What happened to these?”

It’s my turn for a little embarrassment. “Umm.”

“ Luke. ”

“I beat the shit out of a punching bag … for six hours.”

He laughs. “Why?”

I brush my thumb over his cheek. “You.” I resist the urge to kiss him—something else I’ll be banging on the bag about. “I wanted you, but I thought I couldn’t have you. I needed to bleed somewhere, princess.”

“Fuck,” he breathes. “That’s damn near romantic and almost makes up for you being such an asshole earlier.”

“Do you want an explanation for my behavior earlier?”

“Nah. I know why.”

“Are you planning on enlightening me?” He thinks he knows why, let’s see if he’s right.

“Coach. Even I’m not above the sleeping with your professor rules. This could land hard on him. I mean, you too, you’d never get a teaching job at a school like this again, but you’d probably be happy about that.”

Okay, so McKinnon is perceptive. “What I’m hearing is, you know you’re above most of the rules. Now I know you’re purposefully taking advantage.”

“I do, but only for hockey and the guys. Not for personal gain. At least, that’s what I did. I have a feeling you’re gonna put a stop to all that.”

“Yet, here you are in my arms willingly. Maybe you want to be tamed, hmm?”

“Yeah, maybe. I dunno, yet.”

“So long as it’s damn clear that nobody touches you but me.

No hooking up with anyone or anything,” I add, hoping that will set his mind whirring.

Wait until he finds out that he doesn’t get to cum anymore until I say he can.

That means no toys, no porn, not even his own hand.

When I own something, I own all of it. McKinnon doesn’t know how mine he’s about to become.

He pulls his head off my shoulder. “After that caveman display of jealousy over a hoodie? Yeah, I kinda picked up on that. But same for you—you don’t get to hook up either.”

“Wouldn’t want to, McKinnon. I’m going to be a little busy—you’re a handful.”

“Hey!”

“Try to deny it.”

He smirks, proud of his chaos, but then he shivers, teeth chattering.

“You’ve been left without anything to keep you warm.” I should make Celeste pay for that.

I want to give him my jacket, but we’ve still got to keep some modicum of discretion. His teeth chatter some more. Fuck it. It’s a simple black Mackinaw. No one will know it’s mine. I tear it off, wrapping it around him.

His big blue eyes widen, flicking to the Mackinaw, then me, then back to the Mackinaw. He pulls it around him as if this is the first time he’s seeing a jacket and is just learning what it’s for.

I’ll admit, I didn’t plan this far ahead. I don’t know what to do with him now. If I had my way, I’d fuck him right here, but what we’re doing is already risky, no need to tempt fate.

An idea quickly forms. I want to leave an impression. An impression to make him remember he’s mine. I lean in close.

“Open your neck for me, princess,” I breathe.

He obeys, and I suck and gnaw on him, intent on leaving a deeper bruise.

Everyone will see. They won’t know who he belongs to, but they’ll know he belongs to someone.

My only regret will be not being there to witness him fumble through an explanation to his hockey brethren.

I shove my hand down his sweatpants and boxers, my rough hand meets with the silky skin of his cock. Now he’s shivering for a different reason. My cock strains behind the zipper. It wants him so fucking badly.

“Please,” he begs.

“Good boys get rewards,” I murmur as I stroke nice and slow. “Be a good boy, and Daddy’ll make you come harder than you’ve ever come in your life.”

I take my hand away. He whines.

“Luke, that’s fucking mean.”

“Language, princess.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were a sadist, too.”

I chuckle. He’s adorable when he’s pissed at me. “I thought that part was obvious.”

“Yeah. In hindsight, I see it. My bad on that one.”

I raise a brow. “Change your mind? I hope you know consent can be withdrawn at any time.”

“Believe me, I know, and I’ll keep my boundaries current, but no. Mind not changed. I might be crazy, but I kinda love-hate the torture.”

“In that case, no touching your dick without my permission, understood?”

He sighs. “Yes, Daddy.”

I wrap my arms around him, knowing I have to release him soon. I don’t want to. “I tell you that you can’t touch your dick, and you purr like a kitten. I expected complaining, tantrums, epic brattery.”

“I’m sure all that will come, but it’s hard to complain about anything right now, Daddy.”

The early October chill is out there somewhere, and, without my Mackinaw, I should feel it biting my bare skin. Instead, it’s just the rise and fall of his chest, the boom of my heartbeat, and his fingers clenched tightly, bunching my t-shirt.