Page 33 of Tempting the King

“Don’t fucking call her pussy.” I straight arm him against the wall, nearly knocking him off his skates, as a few of our teammates shoot me disapproving looks as they go by.

“Whatever. Keep your shit straight. This cuddling thing, this therapy. Whatever, we need you on the ice, coach needs you, I need you. Your head is already fucked over this girl, I can see it. As soon as the season is over, I’ll get you all the pussy you want, but right now you gotta forget about her being anything other than the key to you getting back to your team.”

I throw a roundhouse punch toward the side of his head, but he ducks just in time and my fist grazes on the blue painted cinderblock wall with a crunch. Pain zaps up my arm as he shakes his head in disappointment.

“Perfect, you ass. Break your hand and be out for the season. You’re letting a lot of fucking people down with your King of Chaos bullshit. Don’t pull that with me.”

I glare back, each breath burning my lungs as I heave the thick air in and out like dead weight.

He shakes his head, his face hardened, then turns and walks away. I knock the heel of my palm over and over against the side of my helmet as I follow.

My head is fucked, he’s right. I’m not going to let the team down. So, I grit my teeth and head out onto the ice for practice.

Where I fucking suck balls.

I can’t play for shit and everyone notices.

After, none of my teammates will look at me. I’m the hero and the villain, depending on if I’m serving the common goal or not.

Winning.

The team matters.

But, fuck, she matters more.

CHAPTER 12

King

Ididn’t sleep and this time it didn’t have anything to do with Victor.

I laid there with a hard-on all fucking night, refusing to give myself relief.

The conflicting torture of keeping my vow versus claiming what’s mine are fighting for control and tearing me apart in the process.

Team.

Emee.

Team.

Emee.

Fuck.

I brace my arms on the door jamb outside her hotel room, trying to make some sense of this new brand of chaos she’s created inside me.

Against the wall rests a gift I grabbed as I left my place this morning, fresh out of the shower, ready for another session with the girl that has gotten into my soul.

I texted her last night to make sure she was settled in and okay. I already knew she was at the hotel in her room, because I’m watching her like a psychopath on the tracking app, as well as watching her every move and keystroke on her laptop.

She Googled me five times.

First, just King Hertzof.

Next, King Hertzof girlfriend.

Then, King Hertzof photos.

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