Page 31

TWENTY-THREE

Beck

J olie was fucking everywhere. She would walk along the upper deck of the stadium before she went into her office, the color of whatever she was wearing catching my attention when I was on the ice.

I felt her stare from the mirrored window across from her desk that overlooked the rink.

She came into the weight room during our workouts, and she sat on our bench during some of our practices.

And the day after Mark Jameson’s announcement in our locker room, I had learned she drove an all-black Jeep Wrangler Rubicon with black rims and chrome running boards, so whenever I pulled into the private lot at the arena or left for the day, I saw her Jeep.

Every glance she made in my direction was like another bob of her lips down my dick.

Every time we passed each other, it was like she was sucking the end of my tip.

And every time I smelled her vanilla-amber perfume in the air, it was like she was goading the cum to rise but leaving right before I got off.

Her teasing was only part of the torture.

The fucking noise from my teammates was the other.

From the moment I entered the arena to the minute I left, it never stopped.

“What do you think she’s jotting down on that tablet?” one of my defensemen said as we were leaving the ice. “All the different positions she wants me to fuck her in?”

“Nah, she’s sketching how I look naked,” the backup goalie voiced. “It’s an accurate portrayal, too, considering I hit that last night.”

I stopped halfway in the tunnel, staring in the goalie’s direction, waiting for him to continue. My fingers pulled back from my gloves so they could ball into fists, my teeth positioned in an underbite, my top lip curled.

I wasn’t out of breath from all the skating and drills we’d just finished.

My body was letting out the air in preparation for destroying this motherfucker’s face.

“You’re full of shit,” the defenseman said to the goalie. “You wish you’d hit that.”

The goalie laughed. “No, she wishes I hit that. But, fellas, it’s only a matter of time before I slide between those gorgeous fucking legs.”

“Did you see that dress she wore yesterday?” my right wing asked, joining the other two. “I wasn’t expecting her to have an ass like that . But, dude, it’s just the kind of ass?—”

“Walk.” Landon’s arm moved around my shoulders, his voice in my ear, blocking me from hearing the rest of what my right wing was saying.

“No, Landon,” I growled. “I’m going to fucking?—”

“Ignore them, Beck.” The way he was guiding me forced my feet to move, and he directed me toward our lockers. “And wipe that look off your face.”

I tossed my gloves on the floor. “What look?”

“The look that says you’re about to end someone’s life.”

“But I am.”

I pulled off my jersey and tossed it on the bench, along with my helmet. Now that my hands were free, my fingers automatically balled. That grip tightened as the trio made their way into the locker room, their comments about Jolie still coming in fast and hard.

“You’re playing with fire, my man.” Landon eyed my fists, pounding my shoulder, as though that would loosen them up. “You start this battle, and you’re going to do everything she asked you not to do.”

Why the hell had I confided in him and told him about my conversation with Jolie?

Because he wouldn’t stop asking about what had gone down at my house—that was why.

Still, I regretted saying a goddamn word. Because the last thing I needed was him trying to talk any sense into me.

I blocked his fingers from tapping me. “She said nothing about fighting my teammates. Her worry is about them finding out. Me killing them? Shit, that wouldn’t tell them anything.”

He shook his head at me. “The thing is, you’re fucking serious, and that’s scary.” He moved in front of me, hindering me from seeing the group. “How the hell would you explain why you’d shattered the nose of our second-string goalie?”

“You think it’s only his nose I want to destroy?” I let out a deep chuckle. “It needs to be realigned anyway. Have you seen that fucking thing?”

He ran his hand over his buzzed head, shaved down for the start of the season. “Or why you knocked out our defenseman’s teeth?”

“You mean, the rest of his teeth. He doesn’t have a ton to begin with.”

“Beck”—his hands went to my shoulders—“you need to tone it down, cowboy.”

I moved out of the way and gripped the wall that separated our lockers. “I’m telling you, Landon … I’m not going to survive this.”

I didn’t care that Jolie and I weren’t together. The thought of her with these men and hearing them talk about her this way made me want to destroy them.

He nodded to one of the other players and said, “This is only the beginning. You know, when it comes to our team and women, things don’t die down. They get worse over time.”

I pressed my forehead against the wall and sighed. “I know. I’m telling you, someone is going to fucking die?—”

“Beck, do you have a second?”

The question hadn’t been spoken by Landon. So, I pulled my forehead off the wood and turned, seeing Mark standing at the mouth of the locker room.

“Yeah, I just have to shower, and I’ll?—”

“No need to shower,” Mark said, adjusting the sides of his suit jacket. “Just get dressed and come into my office when you can.”

I held the back of my neck, the sweat soaking my fingers. “You got it.” I turned toward Landon once Mark was gone. “No shower? That man doesn’t know what he’s asking for.”

Landon chuckled. “He must not know what hockey gloves smell like after a few wears.”

“How would he? The dude’s probably never even skated.”

I unhooked my shoulder pads and stripped off the layers of equipment until I was down to my spandex shorts and grays. I took those off, too, using a towel to dry myself as best as I could.

“Is this your first meeting with him?” Landon asked.

I grabbed a clean set of grays—both shirt and shorts—from my locker and put them on. “Second. The first lasted about two hours, I think. We went over everything.”

“You’re the captain. I’m sure he had a lot to say to you.”

I tossed my wet towel at him. “And the things I couldn’t say to him …”

He laughed. “No shit.” He threw the towel back and flipped me off.

I set it over my head, rubbing my hair. “You know, it’s really easy to talk to the guy, and I like him—that’s part of the problem.”

“What’s the other part?”

“I can’t stop thinking about all the dirty things I want to do to his daughter.”

He put his hand over one eye and shook his head. “Sir, that’s a major fucking problem.”

I put on a pair of slides and made my way out of the locker room to the elevator that would take me to the executive-level floor.

Once the doors opened, I walked in, pressing the top button.

As the doors were closing, with only a few inches to spare, a hand squeezed into the opening, causing them to reopen.

I recognized the painted nails at the ends of those fingers.

Fuck.

“Sorry, I …” Jolie’s voice trailed off once she saw that it was me. And instead of a smile as she stepped in, I got a smirk. “Hello, Beck.”

“Jolene …”

The doors shut, and we were alone.

She held a tablet against her chest, standing on the opposite side of me, her body halfway facing the door and me. “We haven’t had our meeting yet.”

Since I gave no fucks, I let my gaze slowly dip down her body.

Today’s outfit was electric blue, much brighter than the navy of our team colors.

The pants hugged her delicious thighs, and the jacket hung open to show a tight shirt that was tucked in—one mostly covered by the tablet—and based on her height, I knew she had on heels.

“You haven’t asked for one.” I gradually locked eyes with her.

She moved a piece of hair behind her ear—an ear I fucking loved to kiss. “This is me officially asking.”

“Yeah?” I lifted the bottom of my T-shirt to scratch the top of my abs. Jolie noticed. And when her stare returned to mine, I said, “When do you want me?”

She let out a layered laugh, filled with breaths. “How about in twenty minutes? I have to meet with Kirk first, and then I can squeeze you in right after.” Her gaze fell again, this time going as low as my feet before making its way back up. “Unless you’re busy?”

“I’m meeting with your father.” I stroked my thumb over my bottom lip. “I can come to you after, although I’d prefer to take a shower first.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

I chuckled, setting a hand on my damp hair. “So I smell better.”

“I don’t care about that, Beck. I won’t be close enough to know whether you smell like a shower or a goat.”

I gently banged the back of my head against the wall behind me. “That’s too bad …” I licked the lip I’d been rubbing, wishing it tasted like her pussy. “I was hoping that’s why you were having me come in.”

“To get close to me?”

“To let me fuck you on top of your desk.”

She pointed at me. “You need to behave. Remember the talk we had at your house? Professionalism is our motto now.”

The talk.

While I’d been kneeling on the rug in front of her. And just as I was about to tell her that I wasn’t giving up, that I was going to do everything in my power to have her, she had jumped off the back of my couch and left my house.

I adjusted myself in my shorts, the sight of her making me so fucking hard. “I’d be professional about it. I’d even let you keep your suit on.” I smiled. “The jacket anyway. Not the pants. Those I’d rip right off you.”

“I can’t with you.”

I checked the monitor to see what floor we were approaching. “Relax, Jolene. I’m just messing with you. I know you don’t want my mouth on your pussy again.”

The doors opened, and she stepped toward them, looking at me over her shoulder as she said, “You should never tell a woman to relax.”

I chuckled while she parted to the left, and I lingered outside the elevator for a few seconds, watching her ass and the way those pants were snug around each cheek. Shaking my fucking head, I turned and walked toward her father’s office.