Page 78 of Pucking Revenge

Gavin: Ha! And that’s why I pay you the big bucks.

Beckett: Boy is cocky now that he’s got a girlfriend.

Aiden: He’s nauseating. All the kid does is smile and shoot heart eyes at Sara in the stands.

I slap Aiden on the back of the head as I walk past his locker.

He whips around and crows. “What? You know it’s true.”

“What’s true?” War has a towel wrapped around his waist, black hair spiked back. He’s clearly got something going on tonight. The man usually towel dries his hair and lets it remain wild after games.

“That Brooks is like a smiley oaf now. Bet you his brain chants Sara, Sara, Sara throughout the whole game.”

War’s genuine laugh makes me smile.

“Whatever. I’m happy.” I snag my towel from the bench and whip it at him. “Maybe if you talked to Lennox, you could be happy too.”

Aiden sighs and looks away. “I have a girlfriend,” he grumbles. “A girlfriend I love.”

I don’t buy it for a second, but I also don’t want to get involved with my brother and Sara’s best friend. Since we started fooling around, my mind’s enough of a mess. I don’t need to add to the insanity.

My phone lights up with another text. Instead of my brothers, it’s Sara. Just the sight of her name makes my heart stumble over itself.

Sara: Coach’s office. Now.

I turn so my back is to my locker and scan the guys around me to make sure they can’t see my screen, then I type out a quick reply.

Me: Playing with fire there, Sar. Don’t I have to be in the pressroom in like ten minutes? And don’t you have to be there now?

Sara: I got Hannah to cover for me. Don’t make me wait, Saint.

Saint. That’s all it takes. Fingers trembling, I button my shirt. Then I slip my jacket on, and I’m gone. Within three minutes, I’m throwing the door to the office open, head held high and shoulders back. The sight in front of me—Sara kneeling on the desk, legs bare, wearing my jersey, offering only a slight tease of what’s beneath—steals all the breath from my lungs.

Slamming the door shut so that no one else can get a peek at this perfection, I stalk toward her with only one thing on my mind: how quickly I can make her come.

“Crazy girl, what are you doing to me?”

Blue eyes dancing, she drops her hands to the desk and dips low, keeping her ass in the air, looking like a damn tiger ready to pounce. The move sends the trinkets on Seb’s desk scattering. An award of some kind clatters to the floor. I don’t know which one, because I can’t look away from her. I’m solely focused on what she’ll do next.

“I heard hockey players have a thing about their girls dressed in their jersey and nothing else. And since I didn’t get the reaction I wanted the first time I wore this, I thought I’d test it out. What do you think? Is this doing it for you?”

My cock strains against my navy-blue dress pants in response. “Yeah,” I say on a rasp. “I think I need to see it from behind. I wanna get the full effect of the number and the name on your back.”

Sara licks her lips. “I was hoping you’d say that. Get over here. Sit your ass in your uncle’s chair and fuck my pussy with that delicious tongue.”

I whip around and lunge for the lock, but I freeze when Sara hisses.

“Leave it.”

“Sar.” I shoot her a look over my shoulder. “What if he walks in?”

“Then he’ll see his goalie doing something he never could.”

Heart pounding right out of my chest, I turn on my heel. With a deep breath in, I stalk toward her. I squeeze my hands into fists at my sides and release them, desperate to feel the smooth skin of her ass.

She tracks my movements as I round the desk, even peering over her shoulder as I roll the leather chair forward.

I grasp her hips, relishing the way her soft skin gives under my hold. “And what’s that, Sar? What can I do that he couldn’t?”

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