Page 10 of Troublemaker
Because Lucy wasn’t wearing a bra.
It was the most stunning, horrifying thing I’d ever seen. Her areolas darkened the fabric, pert little nipples pushing it out into points. They better have been hard because she was cold, and not because skating with Emory had turned her on.
I blew my whistle again.
“Ms. Braverman, come over here and take those skates off. I hired you to help the team by sweeping the ice during practices,gathering pucks, and bringing the team towels and water. Not for you to get free skating lessons.”
I could feel her anger from across the ice.
“You didn’t hire me to help, you hired me to babysit me,” she pointed out, flipping her damn hair. To Emory, she called, “If Coach won’t let you teach me here, maybe we can do some…privatelessons? There’s so much I want tolearn.”
Her innuendo was clear. Emory laughed.
“Sure thing, cutie,” he called.
I saw red. Not metaphorically. Literally. My vision turned red while I imagined Emory covered in blood as I took his own damn skates to his neck.
The fantasy calmed me down…slightly.
“Lucy, you don’t get to fuck around with my players. Period,” I snapped.
This led to a bunch of chortling and muttering from my team about how they’d like Lucy to fuck around with them. Lucy just smiled, but I knew better, the way she played with her hair gave her away. It didn’t matter that she’d done all this intentionally. If they embarrassed her, I’d kill them.
“Ms. Braverman,now.Don’t make me wait,” I said, voice low and steady and not fucking around one inch.
Glaring at me, she skated without difficulty to the edge of the rink, hopping gracefully off the ice and onto the insulated sub-floor.
“I’m here, your highness,” she snapped. “At your bidding.”
Oh, she had no idea what sort of bidding I actually wanted. An image of Lucy, naked, those nipples on full display and hard for me appeared in my mind. In it, she was kneeling, her hands tied behind her back with her panties, her mouth and throat full of my?—
Bad man. I was a bad man.
“Stop mouthing off,” I told her, swallowing down the rest of what I wanted to say, which wasor I’ll give your mouth something better to do.
Then I blew my whistle again.
“Team, Ms. Braverman is here with us for the rest of the season as my assistant. She’ll be helping out by sweeping the ice, bringing you water, getting my dry cleaning…all sorts of fun activities, mainly because she keeps breaking the rules. And you all know how I feel about rulebreakers. Which means you all have a new rule. Any single one of you looks at her funny or touches her, even her hand, and you’re out for the rest of the season. Think about her inappropriately and I’ll know, andyou’llbe riding the bench.”
“I’d rather ride the brat than the bench,” Paul Westlake, who was my first line defenseman, muttered to Emory.
“Westlake, you’re out for the rest of the season,” I said, voice echoing off the boards and through the entire arena.
He gaped at me. “What the hell, Coach!”
“You heard me.” I turned my head, making sure to look at every other member of my team. Including Emory and Mason, who were both smirking. “Anyone else have something to say?”
Silence.
Just the way I liked it.
Lucy was tugging on my sleeve, whispering, “Don’t take your frustration with me out on them.”
I ignored her.
“Okay, the rest of you are skating suicides for the rest of practice. I don’t care if you puke, you’ll keep going.” To Lucy, I said, “And you’ll be the one cleaning up the puke.”
Her face turned green.
