Page 78 of Major Penalty

“Such an incredible hockey player?” I raise the glass toward her, prompting her to take it. “Such a god-tier fuck?”

Her cheeks immediately turn red, and she quickly snatches the glass from me like she’s not sure whether she wants to throw it in my face or down the hatch.

“I told my staff to stock it up this morning while you were asleep,” I inform her, sliding my own glass toward me.

“So, you really did open the door with a key?” she asks, still in disbelief, before she takes a generous sip of champagne. I have to make sure she doesn’t drink much before we’ve eaten. I don’t want her getting dizzy and having a bad time with me. I want to show her that I can be fun and light… and that I can be normal for her.

“I haven’t picked a lock in years,” I say with a shrug. “Would’ve taken me longer.”

“Why the heck did you use to pick locks?” She shakes her head in further disbelief.Heck.She can’t even say hell. Somehow, that makes what I did to her even sweeter.

“That’s a story for another time, little one.” I stalk toward her, and pluck the champagne flute off her fingers and set both mine and hers down on the bar.

“We should eat first,” I add, planting a kiss on the outer corner of her soft lips, the taste of her pussy still dancing on my tongue.

We spend the day wrapped in heat and stillness. And I just watch her—the way her nose crinkles when she laughs, the way her hair dances when she walks, the way the sun kisses her skin. I’m jealous of it. I’m jealous of the ocean breeze caressing her hair, and even the damn bottle touching her lips.

Fuck.

She’s pure sunshine.

And there she is, all soft smiles and addictive laughter, drinking cold champagne from the bottle and calling me “trouble.”

She laughs again. A real one. Head back, teeth showing, full of fucking light.

Something unfamiliar twists inside me, deep in my chest, and I can’t ignore it. She’s cracked something open inside me, something that wasn’t there before, and I know without a doubt I can’t close it again.

I want her around me more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time. But with that want, there’s a heavy weight—a burden I didn’t ask for. Because I know who her father is. But all I can think about is how her laughter sounds in my ears, how soft her skin feels when I touch it, and how much I never want this day to end.

The sun’s lower now. Orange light bleeds across the sky, blinding as it hits the windshield. Irene’s beside me in the passenger seat, barefoot, legs curled under her, wearing her dress over nothing. And the car smells like her—like vanilla, champagne, and fruits. I should feel calm and satisfied. Instead, I’m gripping the wheel like I’m about to put my fist through the dashboard. Because I don’t want to drive back. I don’t want this day to end.

“I have a question,” she says, turning to me.

“Ask away.” I glance at her. Her cheeks are redder now from being in the sun all day.

“If you have a house here…” she pauses, looking at me with those big brown eyes, “why didn’t you just sleep there?”

My grip tightens as I stare ahead. I could lie and say I like hotels, that it was easier for team logistics. But that’s not the truth. The truth is…I didn’t want her that far from me. Didn’t want to think about her on the other side of the city, sleeping in some room surrounded by my horny-ass teammates making bets about who could get her to smile first. Didn’t want to be stuck in my empty fucking house, knowing she was somewhere else.

So, I say it.

“I wanted to be close to you.”

The silence that follows is instant, and so is the thumping of my heart. I don’t look at her, but I feel the shift.

Admitting to something like this feels like I’ve just jumped off a cliff, and she can either catch me or let me splat on the ground.

I finally glance at her, and she’s just staring at me with a smile. Not mocking, not playful. It’s warm, pretty, and all for me. Just like all of her smiles today.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask.

She doesn’t answer right away; she just presses her lips together, still smiling softly, eyes looking back to the road.

“That you have two pairs of my panties now,” she finally says turning toward the window to hide her blush.

“Fornow,” I correct her.

Her head whips toward me in an instant, the pink in her cheeks deepening.

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