Page 54 of Wilder Puck
I put my phone away and walk back out to the bar. I’m refilling drinks for customers when I see the Seven Devils on the TV. When Ryan Wilder’s name shows on the screen, my stomach does a twirl. I am so in for it.
The Seven Devils are kicking ass on the ice. By the time first period is here, my heart is racing with anticipation. My mind keeps wandering to his list, wondering why he’s doing this to me. We agreed to one more time, but that’s it.That’s it, Ryan Wilder. Why must you do this to me?
I also can’t help the excitement I feel when the phone vibrates my ass cheek in my back pocket. I don’t care about who needs a refill because I need to check my phone.
Ryan: Do me a favor? Send me what you desire
My fingers type so fast because I know he’s on a time crunch.
Baddie: Are you serious?
Ryan: I am
Oh my god. Do I even know what I desire?
Baddie: By the way, you’re doing good out there tonight
Ryan: Thank you. You’re always my good luck charm
I tuck my phone away and return to the floor where I cannot stop thinking about what I would want sexually. I think I might need to clear my conscience of Ryan’s list because all I can picture right now is me in lingerie with his tongue between my legs, then taking him in every position in an unusual place like the kitchen counter. Wow, that’s quite the set up.
Chapter 18
Before the game, the guys are all on my ass about if my head is in the game or not. Little do they know that my adrenaline of impressing her is running through my veins. Nothing puts me more on my game than her support.
As I take my place between the pipes, my mind is stuck on that list. I am praying a few of our fantasies are similar so that we can exercise them when I get back.
The puck drops and I lose myself in the rhythm of the game, my body moving on pure instinct. I make save after save, the roar of the crowd and the scrape of skates on ice fading into white noise. There's only the puck, my team, and the net I've sworn to protect.
By the time the final buzzer sounds, we've clinched it 3-1, and I'm riding high on adrenaline and exhilaration. My teammates surround each other, slapping my helmet and whooping in victory. But as great as it feels to get the win, there's only one person I want to celebrate with.
I dig my phone out of my locker, grinning when I see a string of texts from Addie.
Baddie: HOLY SHIT, RYAN!!! That save in the second period, oh my god!
Baddie: And that penalty kill? I think I blacked out for a second. SO DAMN GOOD!
Baddie: You're a fricking wall. The Great Wall of Wilder!
Baddie: Okay I'm done fangirling now, lol. But seriously, so proud of you.
My chest feels tight. God, I love how ride-or-die she is, how she celebrates my victories like they're her own.
I text back quickly, my thumbs fumbling.
Ryan: Thanks, Bads. I wish you were here.
Her response is immediate.
Baddie: Me too. It sucks I can't tackle-hug you in congratulations. SOON though! We'll celebrate properly when you get home. ;)
My pulse kicks up at the promise in her words. The winky face tells me she's not talking about a platonic pizza party.
Ryan: Looking forward to it. Might need you to work out the kinks after a game like that.
Baddie: If you think I'm rubbing your disgusting feet again, you've got another thing coming
A chuckle leaves my throat, drawing curious looks from my teammates. I wave them off, my focus on the screen.
