Page 26 of Puck You Very Much

Instantly, an image of Lucy on white sheets flashed through his mind. Naked except for the black stilettos.

Sex. Lucy.

The two words in his head were enough to trigger a series of images, each dirtier than the last.

Lucy grasping the sheets as he ran his tongue down her neck.

Lucy, her eyes glazing over as he placed her leg over his shoulder and kissed up her thigh with only one goal in mind.

Lucy, no longer talking back because she was too busy moaning his name while he…

He winced and abruptly tore his gaze from her.

He was close to getting hard. In the middle of the ice. Dozens of hockey players around him. This couldn’t be fucking happening! He rubbed his face hard and narrowed his eyes.

Damn Jack and his idiotic words!

Shit, he couldn’t be right, could he? He didn’t want Lucy. Not in that way!

He abruptly turned his back to the two of them.

It was enough. He wasn’t a little boy anymore, even though Jack made him feel like one. He could distinguish right from wrong. And wanting to do things to Lucy James other than gagging her and locking her in a dark closet was definitely wrong!

Chapter 8

It was too cold.

She was wearing the absolute wrong shoes for visiting the ice rink, but in her defense, she hadn’t expected she’d have to sit here.

Leslie, however, felt that someone from the PR team should observe the first training session with new recruit Jack West so that she could write a press release about how he was fitting in with the team—and to ensure that Dax didn’t go for Jack’s throat.

She had been the lucky first choice for this task. So, here she was, freezing her ass off for an hour just to watch Dax ignore Jack as much as possible. It wasn’t exactly blockbuster cinema, but she was happy that she could at least get some work done on the side. She took care of some pressing business, like Dax’s photo op at the children’s hospital coming up that week. They needed a list of questions that Dax could easily answer during an interview. Dax needed to come across as a friendly guy, no sweat, instead of what he really was: a guy whose head was filled with nothing but thoughts of revenge against Jack West.

“Is this seat free?”

Lucy blinked and glanced up. As if she had conjured him with her thoughts alone, Jack West stood in front of her, looking down at her expectantly.

“Shouldn’t you be on the ice?” she asked, nodding toward the other players who were still working the course.

West shrugged. “Everyone deserves a little break. Especially hard-working people like me.”

She raised one corner of her mouth. “I’m sure the coaches see it differently, but sure, sit next to me, even if the entire bleacher section is free. Go ahead and be one of those strange people who sit in the seat directly opposite you on the train, even though the rest of the compartment is completely unoccupied.”

He grinned widely and flopped down next to her. “Thank you for the kind invitation.”

“Always,” she replied cheerfully, wrapping the blanket tighter around her legs as she stared at the ice. Dax was conquering the course, the puck tight against his stick as if it was glued to it.

Many people claimed that ice hockey was a brutal sport because too often the players’ fists flew, and they constantly crashed into the boards—sticks striking, shoulder against shoulder.

Lucy had a different opinion. Ice hockey was pure elegance. No one showcased this aspect of the sport better than Dax Temple. He didn’t just skate across the ice, he danced in a self-imposed rhythm that most opponents couldn’t keep up with. It didn’t matter whether she liked him or not; whenever she saw him on the ice, a nervous awe filled her chest that made her hands clammy and the back of her neck tingle. Because if a man could move so smoothly on two thin runners, then he had to be talented in other physical areas.

“He was always better than me at keeping the puck close to his body,” Jack murmured absently.

Lucy turned her head in surprise.

“I’ve never admitted it. Not as an opponent in the arena and especially not as a cocky teenager, but…he’s like a magnet. If the puck is his, the puck belongs to him.”

There was genuine admiration in his voice, which stunned Lucy. Most hockey players found it difficult to even acknowledge their shortcomings to themselves, let alone say them out loud. Oh no, that wasn’t just limited to hockey players! This rule applied to all people. Jack, however, didn’t seem to have a problem with it.

---