Page 101 of Coach's Temptation

I swirl my tongue along his shaft, pumping him with my hand as my mouth moves faster, harder, desperate to push him over the edge. His breathing becomes harsh, uneven, until finally, with a guttural moan, he explodes in my mouth.

His body jerks beneath me, spilling hot and thick onto my tongue.

I swallow him down eagerly, savoring every drop before slowly pulling back, lips swollen and aching. Hunter’s eyes are dark, intense, staring at me like I’m the only woman who exists.

“Damn,” he whispers, pulling me up for another kiss. “You’re incredible. And this wasn't even part of your surprise.”

I giggle and wipe the back of my hand over my mouth. "Oh really? Then you'd better get moving before our day off is gone."

Hunter's hand stays possessively on my thigh the entire drive back into Iron Ridge. As we wind through town, playoff banners fluttering proudly from every lamppost, a flutter of unease builds inside me.

We cruise past Ridgeview Tavern, and fuck, Eli has transformed the place into playoff central. Team flags drape every window, a massive "GO ICEHAWKS" banner stretches across the stone façade, and twinkling lights outline the building in team colors.

When I look back to the road, my grandmother’s old building looms ahead, and a pang hits my chest… returning here feels too much like stepping backward.

"Pull up right here," Hunter instructs, motioning to the curb. "Kill the engine."

"What are we doing here?" I glance up at the apartment, anxiety knotting my stomach.

This place holds memories, sure. But it also holds every doubt I have about the future. Every doubt in the back of my mind thatI'll be back here before I know it, and everything I've loved about the last month will be gone.

He catches my hesitation, squeezing my hand gently. "Trust me, baby. I've got one last surprise."

"Another one?" I force a teasing grin, following him reluctantly up the stairs. "Careful, Hunt. Too many surprises and I might start expecting things."

He laughs. "Good. You deserve to."

At the landing, Hunter pauses and asks for my keys, sliding me a mischievous smile before pushing the apartment door open wide.

"Your chariot awaits," he says, dangling my own keys between two fingers.

I roll my eyes, nerves twisting in my belly.

"You know, I haven't missed this place as much as I thought I would. Your fancy heated floors and talking fridge ruined me forever."

He grins smugly, nudging me gently with his hip. "Are you saying you prefer my house to yours?"

"I’m saying your house has set unrealistic expectations," I tease back.

"Well, then you're gonna be really disappointed," Hunter says. "Come on, go inside already."

I step inside, freezing in shock as my breath catches in my throat.

Oh my god...

My apartment—my beloved, crumbling, ancient apartment—is completely transformed.

Sunlight pours in through spotlessly clean windows, highlighting pristine hardwood floors that gleam warmly beneath my feet. The walls, freshly painted in soft creams and muted sage, make the entire space feel impossibly bright and open.

"Oh my god…" I whisper, looking around at my apartment.

The last time I was here, the place looked like a renovation disaster. Tools everywhere, half-finished drywall, sawdust coating the floors.

But because we've been so preoccupied with hockey, travel, and, well…each other, it completely slipped my mind to question Hunter again. I’d meant to check in, to get an update, but between playoff chaos and spending every night tangled up in his bed, I never did.

And now… this.

"Hunter," I whisper, my voice trembling. "What did you do?"

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