Page 114 of Three Pucking Words
One of the players tries to block it, but not in time.
It goes into the goal just as the clock hits zero, and the crowd is louder than the buzzer marking the end of the game. My earsring from their cheers, and I can’t help but scream along with them.
I barely have time to lower my camera before I see a six-foot-four hockey player beelining directly for me.
New York wins.
But Bodhi doesn’t celebrate with his teammates as they congregate in the center of the ice.
He comes tome.
I squeal as he picks me up and drags me onto the ice, which has to be some sort of violation that he obviously doesn’t care about. He wraps my legs around his waist and squeezes me against his sweaty uniform, careful not to crush my camera.
“You won,” I tell him, giggling as he spins us around before nuzzling my nose into the crook of his neck and smelling the sweat coat his skin. “I’m so happy for you. But you should be with the guys right now.”
“I have exactly who I want right here,” he tells me, peeling his helmet off and kissing the shit out of me in the middle of the rink.
If I thought people went crazy before, it was nothing compared to what they sounded like when Bodhi claimed me in in front of them.
And despite not liking the attention, not wanting people’s eyes on me, I stop caring the second his mouth is on me. Because Bodhi loves me in bold, capital letters. He loves me at full volume. Without caution or care. He’s telling the world that I’m his. That he’smine.
So, I thread my fingers through his damp hair and show the world that it’s mutual. When he pulls back enough to let us breath, I blurt, “Go out with me.”
He stares at me for at least a minute in silence before a slow smile spreads across his face. His fingers tighten around where he holds me, massaging the flesh where my upper thigh meetsmy lower glute. Truthfully, I’m impressed he can hold me like this. I’m not exactly light, and he’s been playing a hell of a game that must make every muscle inside his body scream.
But the way he watches me says he wouldn’t have me any other place.
Someone skates up behind him, smacking the back of his shirt. “Don’t keep the girl waiting, Hoffman. Answer the question.”
I recognize Jesse Clarkson from the other matches we’ve played against him. He’s Pittsburgh’s captain and joined us for dinner when we went to their stadium in Pennsylvania not long ago. He’s quiet, but laidback, with a killer scar across his face that Bodhi said he got early in his hockey career.
The man holding me chuckles. “I’m taking her in, Clarkson. Give me a second.”
Clarkson clasps Bodhi’s shoulder. “Just wanted to say congrats and that I may be seeing you around more often. But we can talk about that another time. I’ll leave you to your girl.”
Something in Bodhi’s eyes flash as they meet Jesse’s gaze. Surprise? I can’t place it. He nods, holding one of his hands out to Clarkson to do a weird bro handshake. “Good game, man. Come by my house this Saturday if you’re free. It’s my little girl’s birthday party. We can talk there.”
Once Jesse skates away, he turns back to me and carefully sets me on my feet. “I’m pretty sure you can get fined for this,” I tell him. “I’m not wearing any of the proper gear to be on the ice.”
He shrugs. “I have the money.”
I roll my eyes. “Not the point.”
He grins. “So,” he says slowly. “You want to go out with me, huh?”
There’s a teasing tone in his voice. “I want to do a lot of things with you, Bodhi Hoffman. We’d definitely get fined if I told you what they were right here and now, though.”
Lust flares in his blue eyes. “Not fair, honey.”
I smile innocently. “I guess we’ll have to go out so we can further discuss those things I have in mind. Because I have a few.”
His lips curl into a half smile. “Is that so?”
All I do is nod, biting into my bottom lip.
“You’re trouble.”
“You like it.”
