Page 10 of The Stud

“Right,” he quickly brushes off with a shake of the head. “We’re not prematurely giving you your inheritance to run away from your problems, Arden.”

“Fly away.”

“That either,” the man who technically built my love of hockey lightly chuckles.

“Aw, but she asked so nicely,” Audrey mockingly assists.

“It’s time you two learned to workwithone another rather thanagainst,” our mother warmly declares.

“Exactly,” Dad immediately echoes. “Teamwork makes the dreamwork.”

And apparently, all is fair in hate and nightmares.

Chapter 3

Tanner

“True or false?” I lean against the 3P piece of gear in question, doing my best not to smirk. “You drew a dick on my stick.”

Hoss resists the urge to smile with minimal effort and keeps her attention plastered in the direction my teammates are approaching from. “You’re standing too close to me.”

“I am not.”

“You’re in my good light.”

“Again, I am not.”

“Khurana?” she innocently calls to her cameraman lapdog.

“Snowman, you’re in her good light,” he grunts on command prior to elbowing his way between us, “andinmyrecording space.”

Rather than remain beside him, I swing around to relocate myself to the other side of her, instantly smirking a second time once I’m there. “Better?”

“Better would beyouon another team.”

“You’d miss me.”

“I’d practice my slapshot to correct that,” she effortlessly retorts.

There isn’t time to respond courtesy of themainreasonthe girl of my dreams so openly hates me.

“Hi boyssssss,” coos Audrey Hoss upon her entry into the space beside her cart wielding assistant.

Ah,the princess of fuck bunnies – more formally known as my biggest regret – clad in her white leather mini skirt, boots, half-shirt, andGrinchskinned fuzzy coat, ready to lead any and every poor dick-led soul to their inevitable death like she’s a direct descendant of Morgan le Fay herself.

“You ready to taste for me?” She seductively purrs at the same time she pushes her black sunglasses into her long, straight locks.

Hoss’s gagging can barely be heard around the hungry grumbles of the boys.

Hey, they’ve been warned.

By coach.

Cap.

Me.

See, there’spuck bunnies– those that wanna hop into our laps simply for lacing up our skates – andfuck bunnies– those that will fuck up your entire existence if you make the mistake of banging one of them.

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