Page 7 of Santa's Pucking Hat Trick

“Pipe down, Jerry,” Ray fired over his shoulder. But then he turned his serious gaze on me, and I almost wanted to gulp cartoon-style. “But really, Roman. It’s a real problem. You remember Marissa, our marketing and PR director?”

Woof, how could I forget? She was sexy as hell, with deep golden skin, a flirty short haircut, thick thighs, and overflowing curves to die for. We’d hooked up a few times before she tried to get me to commit to her. I was upfront about what I was looking for from the jump, of course, but she caught feelings anyway—or at least got mesmerized by my dick. She hadn’t taken it well when I had to call things off with her, but it was for the best. If she wanted long term, I wasn’t her guy.

“Yes, sir,” I answered, keeping my tone neutral.

“Well, she cited her relationship with you as one of the reasons she had to leave us. So now we’re down a very important member of the team because of your shenanigans, young man.”

I almost wanted to laugh. There was a first time for everything—my sexual prowess had never caused someone to resign before. Well, besides the one nun I’d fucked into leaving the sisterhood, but that was less about me than about her newly discovered love of getting railed.

“Not sure what that has to do with me. She knew what she was signing up for,” I said breezily.

“This is serious, son,” Ray almost snapped. He was usually such a good-natured, calm old fella that his sudden sternness shocked me into sitting up a little straighter. I could feel the vibe shift in the room, the gravity of the conversation settling in. I resisted the urge to flip off Jerry when he smiled smugly about it. Ray continued, “If you’re not able to sufficiently clean up your act, I’m not sure I can guarantee your future with this team.”

Well, fuck. Somehow, I hadn’t even considered that me getting kicked off the team could be a possibility, no matter what shenanigans I got into. While Michael was the fan-favorite player, no one would claim I wasn’t an invaluable part of our mostly winning record the past few years, and I had my own following in Mistletoe. Maybe my ego was part of the disbelief too. I sat up straighter in my chair.

“We suggest you take a page out of Mr. Henning’s book and try to embrace a more wholesome, family-friendly image,” Jerry piped up with his annoying voice and punchable face. Yeah, like I wanted to be anything like that stick in the mud. Mike was my friend, and I liked him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t kind of a square. Besides, there was no hope of me even faking a resemblance to that boy scout. My tattoos and tongue ring would disqualify me immediately.

The rest of the meeting was a blur after that point. I left mid-sentence while they were trying to suggest dumb ideas to clean up my act. Since practice was over at this point, I headed away from the rink and toward the entrance of the ice center, on my way out to my car. But when I got to the building lobby, I spotted a truly delicious sight, and my plans changed.

There was a woman walking into the ice center with a confident stride, and goddamn, she was gorgeous. Tall and elegantly curvy, with dark hair that fell in well-done waves around an angular face—offset, though, by some truly sinful lips. Full and wickedly curved and bitable. Immediately, I could picture that perfect pout parted to take my cock inside it. The skintight jeans she wore, which showed off mile-long legs, certainly didn’t stop the dirty thoughts from forming.

New plan. I made a beeline toward the woman, turning my signature charm up to eleven. I ruffled my hair in the front so it’d look expertly tousled—dozens of women had told me they loved that.

“Hey there, gorgeous. Need help finding where you’re going?” I asked, swooping in to fall into step beside her. Those long legs were really booking it, and her stride didn’t falter.

“No thanks,” she said, though it sounded more likeNo, and fuck you very much for asking.

I almost wanted to laugh in delight. Hard to get was my favorite flavor. I grinned crookedly and positioned myself against the wall, a well-practiced leaning pose that also served to block her path now that we were in a less open area of the building. The beautiful brunette frowned at me, well-manicured brows lowering over eyes the color of a stormy sea. Fucking flawless.

“Excuse me,” she gritted out. “I have an appointment.”

“Funny, I wasn’t aware we had a date scheduled, but I’m willing to drop everything and take you out. I can promise I’llmake it worth your time.” To get my point across that I wanted to peel off those tight jeans with my teeth, I flashed her a cheeky grin, throwing a little flash of my tongue ring in with it, since I knew that was always a panty dropper. Sure enough, despite her stone-faced expression and rigid spine, I saw her eyes dart down to the flash of silver. And fuck yeah, there was a bit of a flush to her cheeks, a slight strain in her next few breaths.

Jackpot.

“Not with you, asshat,” she finally let out, her voice a little raspier than before. Sexy as hell. “Out of my way.”

It might make me a sick bastard, but her insulting me, trying to deter me even as she clearly wanted to feel my tongue piercing on her pussy, only got me revved up. I could feel my cock twitch in anticipation of how fun and challenging she must be in the sack. How I’d be sure to find out sooner or later, since I hardly ever struck out with women. Most dudes these days had lost the art of seduction, but not me, and women jumped at the chance to fuck me about it.

“Come on, baby,” I half purred, leaning in toward this gorgeous woman’s ear. I smelled a warm, sultry perfume on her neck, and goddamn, I wanted to lick her. “I guarantee you’d have more fun with me than whatever appointment you’re going to.”

I heard her breath catch, knew that I had her hooked, when none other than the Skatin’ Santas’ golden boy himself killed the vibe.

“Rach, you’re here!” Michael’s chipper voice broke into the moment. I leaned back away from the brunette as she turned toward him for a hug. “Ready for lunch?”

“Yeah,” she answered him, but her eyes darted back to me, and then Michael registered my presence. His brow creased.

“Hey, Roman. Have you met my sister, Rachel?”

Fuck. Of course she was his sister. Regrettably, I even saw the resemblance between them now that I was looking for it, thoughit did very little to reduce my desire to make her come so hard she forgot she was a Henning. Michael’s knowing gaze—a similar blue-gray color to Rachel’s—seemed to bore into me. Like he was registering how close I’d been to his sister when he walked up and he wasn’t happy about it.

Yeah, that was typical. None of my friends really rooted for my efforts to fuck every eligible woman in the tristate area, but Michael liked my lifestyle the least. The way he was watching me warily, almost angry despite thenothinghe’d seen, it was like he’d walked in on me finger-banging his twin sister. Distrust and disapproval—and it pissed me off.

I was already still pissed after my stupid meeting about my image. And together, these annoyances stoked a fire that had me plotting and scheming more than I ever had. After the stilted introduction Michael gave to me and Rachel, the half-assed pleasantries, the two of them were headed off to have lunch together, leaving me with an evil plan forming in my brain.

Well, at least one of my heads.

Screw trying to be a fucking goody-two-shoes like Michael Henning, and absolutelyfuckhis judgemental ass. If I wanted to sleep with his sister, I damn well could—she was a big girl with strong boss bitch energy, and if she wanted me in the way I thought she did, there was no way she’d let something as silly as her brother’s disapproval stop her from getting hers.

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