Page 6 of Puck I Did It Again

"Whatever," Hightower grumbles before skating toward the locker room, leaving me alone with my knights in shining armor, which I can't have them do. I need to prove myself to the team—not hide behind them.

"I will say this only once. You three are not my bodyguards or my keepers or whatever you think your role is. You're my players, and I'm your coach. Got it?" As I push forward in my lecture, I don't give them a chance to respond, "Furthermore, I can't haveyou fighting my battles for me. I'm the head coach—I need to earn their respect, not hide behind the three of you. Now hit the showers." I skate in the opposite direction, leading to my office, ending this conversation before they can tell how turned on I am by how they stood up for me. That has rarely happened in my life. I've always had to prove myself, and no one has supported me along the way.

A cold shower is exactly what I need to cool off from the desire rushing through my body at the thought of the three of them controlling me, making me beg to be owned by all of them at once. Luckily, there's a private shower in my office so that I can take care of my secret desires in private before I have to face any of them again or at least take the edge off until I can get home to my vibrator.

four

Maximus

"She's right, you know.We can't keep jumping in to try and protect her from every little perceived threat." I turn to Monk and King after I know Wynn is safely on her way to her office.

I don't know what it is about Wynn, but she's gotten under my skin in such a short time. Thinking that picking up a woman in a bar last night might help this weird attraction, I feel for my coach—I went to the closest bar to the yoga studio. But once inside, I started comparing every woman to Wynn. None of them could hold a candle to Wynn, so I left before taking one sip out of my drink.

One other thing that stopped me was knowing Wynn is my neighbor. Even though we might not be in a relationship, the thought of her seeing a random hookup leave my house in the morning made my stomach turn—not that I bring random women to my home—it was more of knowing the woman was Wynn that left me feeling sick to my stomach.

With no other players around us, I bring up what we're all thinking, "I'm attracted to Wynn. And I'd like to see where this attraction goes."

"Me too," King adds. "there's just something about her I felt drawn to from the first moment I laid eyes on her."

Monk pulls off his helmet, "There's something I need to tell you. The reason I don't screw around with random puck bunnies or have even dated anyone since I joined the team two years ago is I met this amazing woman on the beach in Borabora at sunset two weeks before I joined the Iowa Posiden. We made love on the empty beach, swam naked in the ocean at midnight, and spent the rest of the night making love in every position possible. I woke up the next morning with her snuggled deep in my arms, and I freaked out a little. She was so beautiful and adventurous, with a sense of humor that matched my own that I'd never experienced before with anyone else. But the fear of arelationship had me bolting for the door before I knew anything more than her first name. I've always thought of her as my mermaid."

"That tattoo on your back of a dark-haired mermaid—it's Wynn, isn't it?" King presses.

"Yes. I foolishly hoped fate would bring her back into my life and we could start over. But now she's my coach, and the two of you obviously want her too. I don't want to cause problems with the team's chances by fighting over her, but if I have to choose between championship and Wynn, I'd choose Wynn every time."

Well, damn. This just got complicated.

"Why don't we take some time to figure this out before we do something rash?" I say. "Let's start by apologizing. But let's hit the showers first and get out of our practice uniforms." The last thing I want to do is to remind her we're her players.

"Hello, are you in there, Wynn?" I knock on her office door.

When she doesn't respond, I twist the handle, finding it unlocked—I glance back at King and Monk. They shrug, so I push open the door and double-check that Wynn isn't in her office.

As we step through the doorway, the sound of a shower running pulls our attention to the private bathroom, with the door slightly ajar and the soft moans of pleasure drifting through the air.

What the fuck? Who in the hell is she in there with?

We all realize the thought at the same time as we slam open the door, ready to face the asshole who's pleasuring our woman.

Our woman? Where did that thought come from?

I'm starting to sound like Zander, Owen, and Reese with their unreturned claim on Maggie. But damn it, if I'm going to let anyone but Monk, King, or myself touch Wynn.

The sight that greets us is one I never could have imagined. A naked Wynn with one hand gripping one of her glorious breasts and the other buried deep between her legs, with the water pulsing down on her skin and a pleasing look in her eyes through the glass door of the large shower.

"Please help me. I can't come." She drops her eyes as if angry with herself for begging for our help.

Fuck that. If our woman needs our help to orgasm, then we'll do it—it's our job to pleasure her.

She doesn't have to ask twice as we strip off our clothes and shoes, scattering them everywhere in our haste to get to Wynn.

"I got you, Mermaid." Monk gets to her first, replacing her hand with his much larger one between her legs.

Instead of the jealousy I expect to feel from someone else touching her, it turns me on even more, and I stroke my cock, watching Monk slide one hand between her legs as the other one plays with her breasts, all the while he rubs his body against her backside, his cock sliding between her thighs. "That's it, Wynn. Let us help you."

"Once, only this once." She moans, grinding her hips into his hand, and I have to squeeze my cock in fear of coming too early at the look of sheer pleasure on her face.

King must feel the same as I glance over and see him stroking his cock.

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