Page 23 of Pucking Sweet

She leans away with a laugh of her own, reaching for her phone. “I’m good, thanks.”

I settle back in my chair, feeling more relaxed. “Yeah, I’ve got a great dentist. You have to if you wanna play hockey at this level.”

She slides over the manila folder one-handed, still balancing her phone in the other. “Is this how you bag all those bunnies? Flashing them your fake teeth?”

So, we’re getting down to business then? I cross my arms again. “You want me to show you how I bag puck bunnies? I thoughtyouwere the teacher in these sessions. Don’t rip the fantasy away now.”

She lowers her phone, meeting my gaze. “The fantasy?”

“Yeah, you know…you on that side of the desk in your pencil skirt looking all ‘bad teacher’ as you instruct me on how to keep my hookups secret? You gotta admit, Pops, it’s hot.”

She sets her phone down and flashes me a seductive smile. “Wanna play a game? A little teacher-student role-play?”

Well, color me the fuck intrigued. I mirror her body position. “I fucking love games.”

“I thought you would,” she coos. “Okay, here it is. You ready?”

I grin. “Always.”

Her gaze hardens with her tone. “Be serious for three minutes together, and I’ll buy you a pretzel from the lobby cart.”

I sigh, my sex drive coasting back to neutral as I stretch back in this janky chair. “Sorry, Pop. No can do.”

“You can’t stay focused and professional for three minutes?”

“A typical shift in hockey is only like sixty seconds long. That’s all the serious I can give.”

“Impressive.”

I shrug. “What can I say? I’m a well-programmed machine.”

“Shall I set a timer on my phone? We can take stretching and snack breaks in between.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She opens the manila folder on the desk and pulls out a thin stack of stapled documents.

I pick it up and instantly note the legalese. “What’s this?”

“It’s a boilerplate nondisclosure agreement. I’ve used it with clients in the past who found themselves in your situation.”

“My situation?”

“Show it to your lawyer and your agent, let them approve the language and make any necessary tweaks. Then I want you to have all your intimate partners sign it, preferablybeforethe deed is done. Send a copy to your lawyer and keep a copy for your own records. If you feel comfortable doing so, you can even send a copy to me.”

My heart stops. “You want me to send you signed gag orders from all the women I fuck?”

“I prefer the language of ‘NDA’ to ‘gag order,’ but yes. As head of public relations, it’s my job to protect not only the image of the team and the overall brand, but the individual players as well. I can assure you that my staff and I will operate with the utmost discretion. But we can only be as well-armed as you make us. Every signature, Lukas. Just think of it as a legal condom. I assume you know how condoms work?”

I blink at her before dropping my gaze back to the stack of papers in my hand. “So, what do you expect me to do here? I just make copies of this and stuff them into my pockets before I head out to the club? I suppose I can just hand them out like business cards. That’ll really make sure I never have sex again.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You have a phone, right?”

I eye her across the desk. Is this the flirting again or still business? “Are you asking for my number, Poppy?”

“I already have your number.”

I grin. “Eager, are we?”

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