Page 28 of The Sweet Spot

I stand and shake his hand. “Thanks, Max. I appreciate it.”

“Listen, Deacon. I’ve been the new guy, and I’ve been the young guy, but that never stopped me from being the right guy. There’s going to be a lot of talk about your age. Ignore it. We believe in you and what you’re going to bring to the Revolution. You’re our first pick. Our top pick. We had a go-to list if you weren’t interested, but I wanted you. Ignore the chatter and keep a low profile. It’ll blow over. It always does. In the meantime, Scarlet and I have to run across town for a King Corp. meeting. My assistant will show you to your office and introduce you to your office staff. I’m looking forward to a great season, Coach.”

Coach . . .

Fuck, I love the sound of that.

My office may be next to Max’s, but my heart is in the bowels of the arena. Always has been. Coaching became my dream when playing was taken away from me too early, but like most things in life, it happened, I adjusted, and eventually, I realized that this is the life I wanted.

Walking the corridors is familiar.

Some things are the same in every rink.

The smell of the ice. The chill in the air. The noises coming from below.

Home.

The thought brings my tired eyes some peace. Meanwhile, I search for a certain redheaded physical therapist with a sweet smile and wicked mouth while I familiarize myself with my new life. Because that’s what coaching hockey is. A life. Not a job. Figuring out how to balance that with full-time fatherhood won’t be easy, but I’m basically the luckiest motherfucker who ever walked these halls, so you won’t catch me complaining.

A door opens down the hall, and two women laugh before a tiny wisp of a woman steps out into the hallway. She looks at me cautiously before passing by. I stop at the open door and watch silently as Brynlee cleans up after the woman who just left. The one I’m assuming is her roommate, Grace.

And damn. She’s fucking stunning without any effort at all. Her soft, red hair is pulled back in a ponytail, showing only diamond studs that sparkle in each ear. Black pants mold to the curves of her legs, and a red Revolution tee barely hints at the strength and beauty she’s hiding beneath it. She looks professional and yet, sexy as hell.

When she turns to find me watching, she sucks in a breath and lifts her hand to her heart. “Jesus, Deacon. You scared the shit out of me.” Once she catches her breath, her eyes narrow and sharpen. “What are you doing down here?”

“I just signed my contract. I thought I’d give myself a tour.” I step into the room and close the door behind me, then with a flick of my wrist, lock it for good measure.

Her emerald eyes sparkle as I prowl to her like a predator stalking his prey.

“Kinda ballsy coming down here, don’t you think?” She takes two steps back until she bumps up against a therapy table and is forced to hold her ground.

Defiant eyes look up at me as I take her face in my hands, unable to resist the all-encompassing need to touch her. “What’s your point, red?”

Brynlee’s hands fist my shirt, and breathlessly, she lifts up on her toes.

“I forget,” she utters before our lips crash together.

Each of us fighting for control.

Her hands run under my polo and up my sides, flattening against my chest.

“Fuck, Brynn...” I lick into her mouth. “Did you give your notice?” I ask as I drag my tongue down her neck, desperate for more of this woman.

“Yes.” She inhales when I scrape my teeth over her thrumming pulse, meeting my desperation with her own. “That’s why I was in Max’s office this morning. I’m done thirty days from yesterday. Why?”

Her nails score my skin, and I slide my hands to cup her ass in my palms before I boost her onto the table. “Because if you’ve already quit, this isn’t sexual harassment, right?”

She yanks my head back by my hair and laughs in my face. “The only way this turns into sexual harassment is if you don’t make me come right now, Coach.”

I push my hand inside her pants and plunge two fingers into her tight fucking pussy and swallow her moan. “Like this?” I ask against her lips, adding a third finger and loving the way her body shakes.

“Yes...” she keens, trembling under my touch before I circle her clit, and get off on the way she cries out again. “Right there. Don’t stop.”

I take my orders and double down, wringing her orgasm from her body in minutes, then devour every sound that slips past her pouty lips until she’s breathless beneath me. Her sex-drunk eyes widen as I pull my fingers from her pants and suck them clean. “Fucking perfect, red.”

She blinks up at me slowly before she giggles the sexiest laugh I’ve ever heard.

“I swear to God, it’s like there’s a magnetic pull. Like I have no choice when it comes to you.” She drags a lazy finger over my lips, wiping them clean.

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