Page 9 of Dirty Pucking Player

Shit. I absolutely do that.

She nods as if she knows I’m mentally admitting she’s right. “Bash Fury is no different, Greer. You hate him now, but you’ll get to know him and figure out he’s not such a bad guy. You can’t help but see the good in people. That’s not a bad thing, hon. You just have to make sure you don’t open yourself up to those people who only have a tiny bit of good. The rest is the part that ends up hurting you in the end.”

I sigh and lean back in my chair, the active chatter of the restaurant around us helping to drown out the voice in my head that keeps insisting there must be something redeeming in that man. “I don’t need to worry about that with Bash Fury, Jill. He’s an arrogant prick. He doesn’t have a redeeming bone in his body.”

Jill waggles her eyebrows. “It isn’t his redeeming bone I’m worried about. It’s the supposedly massive one between his legs. I’ve seen that look in your eyes before, girl. You want to jump that man.”

I jerk upright. “I do not. I wouldn’t go near that thing with a ten-foot pole.”

She grins. “Methinks you doth protest too much.”

“Oh, shut up.” I wave a hand at her. “Knock it off with the smarty-pants literary bullshit. I’m not getting involved with Bash Fury. I can guaranfuckingtee that. All I’m doing is making sure he stays in line.”

“And just how do you plan on doing that?”

However I have to…

I chew my lip and consider my options.

Bash is right about one thing…if I try to bench him without reason, Bob will come down on me. But if he keeps up his usual shit on the ice, that will give me a legitimate excuse I can argue to the boss about why he’s not out on the first line. The first penalty he gets, I can make sure he spends the rest of the night riding the wood instead of on his skates.

He won’t like it, but it will be a necessary return fire. He started this with his shot across the bow this morning. All I’m doing is staking my claim and ensuring he understands the way the Scorpions run. He may have been able to get away with his bullshit on the Warhawks, but that won’t fly here.

That sexy, infuriating man needs to learn his place, and it’s not at the head of this team.

“I’m going to do what I’ve always done, Jill. I’m going to stand my ground and show my authority the moment he steps out of line.”

It’s what I did when I assisted Bob in coaching the men’s Olympic team and during my one year as an assistant coach in the NHL…and it’s what I will do here. Just because I have tits instead of balls doesn’t mean I’ll tuck my tail and run at the first threat.

Bash Fury doesn’t scare me. Not one fucking bit.

He’s just a man. One controlled by testosterone and ego.

Both need to be put in check.

* * *

BASH

The fluffy, white towel brushes softly against my wet skin.

Like fucking Heaven.

I didn’t need a second shower after practice, but from the moment I dropped off my bags here last night—or I guess, technically, early this morning—and saw the bathroom in this place, I knew I was going to be spending a lot of time in there.

Wall-to-wall jets and a waterfall showerhead were just too much to pass up. Even if I already cleaned up at the practice facility. I also needed to relieve a little of the tension that had built up during my confrontation with Greer today.

I could have taken care of business in the locker room showers, but I don’t need my new teammates thinking I’m some sort of sick perv who whacks off all the time on the first day.

The shower here did just fine and allowed me to find that release I needed so badly while visions of that pink flush spreading over Greer Waterson’s cleavage and across her cheeks danced in my head.

I run the towel over my hair and chest to get the majority of the water off, then wander out into the bedroom and living room area of my hotel suite.

This place really is fucking incredible.

When I heard they were trading me to the Scorpions, I definitely wasn’t thrilled to have to fly across the country to join an expansion team—even one with a great record—but the team putting me up at a place like this helps ease some of the adjustment pain. And my five-game suspension after what I did to Miller gave me time to get some of my shit together, more time than most players get when they’re traded.

I’ll eventually have to find a permanent place here, a condo or something, but for now, my home away from home is pretty fucking sweet.

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