Page 49 of Off-Ice Misconduct (Daddies of the League #8)

MID-NOVEMBER

Ace

W e’re in the meat of hockey season. There’s no time for relationship drama, just fighting our way to the top of our conference, getting grades good enough to appease Luke, and frat house shit.

We still have our parties after home games and manage to find time for house fundraisers, which are separate from the hockey fundraisers.

They’re events I’ve organized but haven’t been able to partake in this year.

Because of Luke.

“Run that by me again, princess.”

I’m at his place, trying to sell him on some of the events we’ve done since I took office.

“Naked hockey calendars. We sell them every Christmas.”

“Absolutely fucking not. Doesn’t this university watch you hooligans at all? That’s got to be against some law.”

“What the fuck, Luke? You don’t care about the university.” I roll my eyes. “You’re being a jealous asshole.”

“My boyfriend’s ass belongs to me and only me. It won’t hang around the kitchens of America to be gawked at by just anyone. No. I forbid it, and I want names of every deviant buying naked hockey calendars from a college.”

I groan. When Luke says shit like that, there’s no talking him out of it. “Fine, I’ll wear clothes.”

“Still no, McKinnon.”

“You’re being an over-possessive prick, Daddy,” I grouse.

He pretends to think about it. “You’re right. Maybe the professors should do some fundraising for the school, too. Hot professor calendars…”

The man knows how to make a point. I see red because I wouldn’t want his body hung up in someone’s home for others to leer at daily. Luke’s fucking mine. “Fine, no calendars. Does this mean shirtless car wash and hot dog day are out, too?”

“Definitely no shirtless car wash for you, clothed is fine, but … do I even wanna know what happens on hot dog day?”

“We wear nothing but Speedos and aprons, serving actual hot dogs while everyone wishes they had our other hot dogs,” I say with a wink. I know as soon as I say it, it’s out, but I want comedic points.

“Not for the public, but you can bring both items to my place and cook me some fucking hot dogs,” he grumps. It’s precious, but I’m not stupid enough to say so.

Those fundraisers don’t happen until the spring. I’m sure I can find some lusty first years wanting to make a good impression with the house to help out in my absence.

Being in a grown-up relationship requires a lot of adjustment, but I’m enjoying it, and I’m a goner anyway.

I spend most of my time missing being with Luke, and when I’m with Luke, it’s so toe-curling-ly good, I wish I had less shit to do so I could be with him more often.

It’s not just the sex. There’s a primitive brand of satisfaction I get from his alpha-male countenance.

It gives me a permanent buzz. Especially when he finds ways of being with me when he’s not with me.

Like leaving love bites and spanking my ass until it glows.

It's Friday, we leave early for Portland—it’ll be a Portland then Tacoma weekend—so all I had time for was a quick fuck and goodbye before I had to be on the bus.

“Behave yourself, princess,” he says in that growly voice of his.

“Yes, Daddy.”

He pins me to the wall, plunging his tongue inside. I feel so, so owned. All his. I get to play hockey and be his. It’s all I aspire to.

This is the fucking life.

Seeing Bender and Shep sitting beside each other on the bus, not fighting about something, is weird.

I don’t know what’s going on between them, and I don’t ask.

It’s none of my fucking business, even though I’d like to make it my business.

Luke’s talked me off a few ledges because of them—all three of them.

Hudson’s not here because he doesn’t play hockey, but I’m not convinced he’s doing well.

I’m grateful to snag a seat with Justin, who prefers to listen to music the whole way there. I use the time to text Luke.

Me

Where do we stand on the whole orgasm thing?

I know the answer’s no. As he says, “You can wait two nights until you’re back with me.” But I like being a fucking brat. Poking the werewolf man.

Wolf Daddy

What did I say about behaving yourself?

Me

I’ve been a treasure, Daddy.

Wolf Daddy

Don’t touch your dick, McKinnon, or else.

I snicker under my breath. I look up to see if anyone’s heard me and catch sight of Bender slipping his hand into Shep’s and resting his head on Shep’s big shoulder.

Hmm, looks like they don’t hate each other so much anymore.

Damn. They’re kinda sweetheart-worthy, though.

I hope to fuck this doesn’t explode in their faces.

I scan the bus some more. Coach is real into his phone. Wonder who he’s talking to?

I’ve got two more messages from Luke.

Wolf Daddy

I expect a ‘yes, Daddy’, princess.

McKinnon.

Shit. He’s probably pulling out that damn wooden paddle of his, so it’s ready when I get home. Sigh. It’ll feel good to feel him on my ass, though.

Me

Yes, Daddy. No touching my dick. *saluting emoji* You won’t need your wooden paddle at all.

Except, I’m secretly hoping I get the wooden paddle. Fuck. My brain chemistry has been officially altered.

Wolf Daddy

Weird, then why is it right beside me, pretty puck bunny? *thinking emoji* Your ass is mine when you get home, and that’s just for daring to be away from me. Never mind all the demerits I’m sure you’ll rack up just by being you.

I laugh again but send a row of shocked emojis as if I’m surprised—I’m not.

Me

Hearts and shit, Wolf Daddy.

It might as well be I love you .

My heart beats out of my damn chest as I wait for a response.

Wolf Daddy

Hearts and shit, princess

I love you, too.

I stare at it for a long time. Will us two emotionless fucks ever say that out loud? Does our Ace and Luke code count?

I turn to ask Bender, but it’s Justin beside me. Bender’s who I ask about this shit. Now that he’s with Shep, is what we had over, too? Fuck. How can some things in my life be going so fucking good, while other shit is so terrible I want to rot in bed over it?

I miss my best friends. We haven’t talked much since I found them in bed together. Shep tried talking to me that day, but I dipped. It’s probably my turn. As soon as we get to the hotel, I’ll find them. I’m sure we can figure this out.

We’re losing. Bad. I can’t stand that fucking goose egg staring me in the face from the scoreboard.

Especially not against fucking Portland.

Their stats are the worst in our conference.

Ugh. Coach is gonna be pissed. Not because we’re losing—though he never loves that—but we’re not even trying.

It’s as if what’s going on with Shep, Bender, and me has infested the whole team.

As soon as we got to the hotel, I made true on my mental vow to find them, but when I did, I caught them sneaking into Shep’s room together.

Calling them out for a second time was the very last thing I wanted to do, so I slunk back to my room, and flirted via text and then via video call (since my “bunkmate” was in Shep’s room) with Luke until he told me in no uncertain terms to “get some fucking sleep, princess”.

Bender still wasn’t there in the morning, and by the time we caught up at breakfast, I lost my nerve.

What was I gonna say? I still think they’re a bad idea, and I’m grieving the loss of Shep and Huddy as a couple. Maybe they’ve moved on, but I haven’t.

We’re skating around out here like we’re in pee-wee, missing easy passes, letting their offense through. It means more fights out of frustration, more penalties than usual, and an overall demoralizing atmosphere.

“McKinnon,” Coach says as soon as we’re in the locker room after that gong show of a game. “Shower and change and get the fuck to the Coach’s office.”

Goddammit, but I knew that was coming. I hang my head because I’m letting this team down.

I haven’t been present as captain or as house president.

I’ve changed, they’re responsibilities I no longer want, but I have them until the end of the season, and I need to be an adult and buck up.

I shouldn’t have taken so much on, but I did.

When I’m de-hockey-fied, I slink toward Coach’s temporary office, but not before texting with Luke.

Me

Your brother’s about to kill me. Bury me with my fave hockey stick, okay?

Wolf Daddy

What did you do, princess?

Princess. That means he’s not actually mad, too, even though I can hear his wolfish tone in those words.

Me

I was a shitty team captain. Call you later?

Wolf Daddy

I insist, baby.

Fuck, no matter what happens, at least I have Luke. Is it too much to send him a heart-wolf combo? A lobster emoji? Yeah, too much. But I send him a ‘yes, Daddy’, and head to my doom.

The weight of Coach’s disappointment bears down on me like it always has, especially knowing I deserve it. He and Luke look alike when they’re disappointed. Never noticed that before.

“You gonna tell me what the fuck’s going on, McKinnon?”

“There’s been some issues between some of us,” I admit.

“Sounds like fucking drama to me, and I know the cure for that.”

Ugh, extra-evil drills during practice. I nod. “I’ll fix it, Coach.”

“You’re a team, McKinnon. It’s not all your fault.”

My head snaps up. He’s never said anything like that to me before. It’s always been all my fault. Well, except for the time he caught Shep and me fighting. But Luke was involved there, so…

“Sir?”

Coach huffs and shows me his phone.

Big Bro

If I don’t like what you’ve done to my boyfriend, I’ll crush you, Tate.

“Not fair, telling on me,” he says.

“I did not tell on you.” Though it probably doesn’t help that I can’t stop smiling. This might be the sweetest thing Luke’s ever done. I don’t need flowers and chocolates; I want a man who’s willing to crush his own brother for me.

“He’s right, though, but I know the team listens to you. It’s easier to go through you.”

“Easier on who?”