Page 68 of Double Puck

Do I really want him to do that kind of thing to me?

My pussy gives a tight squeeze, and I think I have my answer.

"So. That was a good first lesson. Same time tomorrow?" Beck winks, wringing the water from his hair.

"Please stop talking. I cannot do that again."

"Come on, you had fun."

"What about that was fun? Did you see Mason smirking?!"

Beck shrugs it off. "Darce, you had your hand down my trunks before seven a.m. I'm going to be thinking about that during warmups today. Hell, I'll probably be thinking about that during the anthem on Saturday. During—"

"Please stop talking."

"The national anthem's going to be so weird for me now."

I press the towel into my face. This is fine. I'm a professional woman who just felt up the player I'm trying to trade in his luxurious pool.

And God help me… I want to do it again. Immediately. With fewer brothers on balconies.

"Hey." His voice drops. "Look at me."

I lower the towel, and Beck's right there, water still sliding down his chest.

"Don't forget about Saturday," he says. "We're gonna win that game. Zoey's bringing Morgan, and I'm going to be playing for my career."

"I know." I swallow hard. "I'll be there."

The trade deadline flashes through my head, followed immediately by Colin's warning that teams are already circling.

I should tell Beck.

After what just happened between us, keeping something this important from him suddenly feels dangerously close to lying.

Except I don't tell him.

Not yet.

"Exactly. You'll be in the suite, working." His grin turns filthy as he moves closer. "I'll be on the ice, performing. Nothing motivates a man like knowing the woman who had her hand on his—"

"Finish that sentence and I'll hold you under in the shallow end."

"—his heart, is watching." He steps in, stealing the corner of my towel to dry his face, which puts him four inches away. "And after the game, you're mine. Win, lose, or concussed into next week… I'm taking you on that first date. Best day of your life, remember?"

He dips his head and kisses me, deep, slow, his hand curling warm around the back of my neck like it lives there now.

I make a sound I've never made before, and when he pulls back, his voice is pure gravel.

"You did good this morning, Darce. Gold star." His thumb strokes my bottom lip. "And I can't wait for Saturday. Wait till you see the rest of the curriculum… Proper ladies always finish on top in my classes."

He winks, and I leave the mansion ten minutes later with damp hair, a swimsuit twisted under my clothes, and a full-body throb no amount of convertible air-conditioning can fix.

Saturday suddenly feels very fucking far away.

Chapter 11

Beck