Page 40 of Pucking Obsessed

I wish that I could still be laid out, enjoying being hand fed my breakfast by Eden.

Instead, I must watch D’Angelo and Shay being driven to the edge of their limits by the man who is trying to take everything away from us.

I wrinkle my nose at the familiar smell of the arena: the bite of cold air mixed with sweat and rubber.

The lights are dim, apart from the spotlights that are directed onto the rink and its red and blue markings.

“When I took over as PR Director, I didn’t expect to need to become Bond. If you wanted an Alphahole who looks coldly attractive holding a cocktail in one hand and a gun in another without a good chance of shooting themselves in the foot, then you should have asked D’Angelo.” I struggle to keep up with Dad’s fast strides alongside the rink without slipping.

At least I’m not wearing heels, but sturdy boots, a woolen fuchsia dress, my warmest coat, and fluffy gloves.

Would James Bond wear fluffy gloves to protect his delicate fingers from the cold?

Shivering, I stuff my gloved hands into the pockets of my coat.

Also, would Bond enjoy sniffing the gray scarf that’s wound around his neck because it smells deliciously of the sweet, vanilla scent of their lover?

If he wouldn’t, then he’s missing out.

Eden wrapped his gray scarf around my neck this morning.

Dad had sent me a text arranging this meeting. Eden wanted to come with me but he had important PA work to complete for D’Angelo.

I know that Eden was conflicted.

At the same time, I could see that he was in pain from his shoulder. When we were on the road trip, an asshole player on another team wrenched it out of his sling and behind his back, damaging his slow recovery.

I need to have Cody schedule more physiotherapy with him.

What Eden didn’t need was to be around my dad, when Dad is like a wounded bear after Colton’s betrayal.

“Weren’t you in the same meeting as me?” Dad tightens his hands on the official stack of files, which are emblazoned with the team’s puck logo. “According to our damn boss,Judeis the Bond villain. And I’m the dumb asshole who just staked everything on him.”

“Thank you,” I say, softly.

Finally, Dad stops and glances over his shoulder at me. “You don’t need to thank me. I’d have done the same for any of my players. This sport is meant to be about loyalty. It’s the one thing that Jude has always got right. He treats his team like brothers. They jumped over themselves to write those character referenceletters. The staff too. That man should understand his strengths and weaknesses better. He may have demons and flaws that would crack most people. But he could charm the damn devil.”

My expression tightens. “That’s only because he puts everybody else’s needs first. They respect his dedication and support. He’s captain but he doesn’t act like an entitled jerk.”

Dad harrumphs. “I don’t need you to speak up for him. We both know that you’re not impartial.”

I frown. “It’s got nothing to do with…”

The fact that we’re in a relationship…that he’s the man I love more than life itself.

Or the fact that this morning, D’Angelo whispered dirty talk about what he was going to do to me as soon as my period finished, while meanly kissing the most sensitive point on my body, behind my ear, which had me teetering on the edge of coming. Then stopped, pulling back and smoothing down his suit.

D’Angelo’s eyes glinted. “Something to anticipate, principessa.”

I could have ripped the sheets that were bunched tightly in my fists.

I have a real love-hate relationship with orgasm denial.

But my next orgasm is going to be earth shattering.

Dad turns, studying the players on the ice. “I don’t damn well care. Everything from now on is about putting on a show for the assholes on the other side of the rink. I won’t look weak.”

“You mean, putting on a show for Colton, right?” I pull my hands out of my pockets and lean on the glass. “Do you still like that he’s a hard-ass?”

---