by Mandi Beck
“Oh my word, it’s a boy. I told you it was a boy,” my mom gushes. “I mean we saw the sonogram pictures and they told us he was a boy but they’re not always right.” She rambles excitedly.
The gruff, emotion-filled voice of my father interrupts her, “so? What did you decide on?”
I look to Stella to answer, knowing she wanted to stick with my family’s tradition, and knowing too how much it’s going to mean to them. She gives me the go-ahead. “Ma, Dad, meet your grandson, Julian Jason Dagger.”
The tears are instant, neither one able to say anything to convey the way they feel. I get it. They take a moment to ooh and ahh over him, still laying on his mama’s chest, Stella not quite ready to give him up, before they leave to tell my sisters the news. After hugs and kisses and pats on the back, they promise to come back once Stella has had some rest, and to sneak her in some of the pot pie she never got to eat.
Once they leave, Stella pats the bed beside her. “Come sit down. It’s time for you to properly meet your son.”
My son. It sounds so surreal and yet so right. Sitting beside Stella, I help her to get better situated, the fear of holding the tiny blue bundle making my heart beat erratically. But the moment she places him in my arms, it all evens out. My heart, my breathing, my racing mind. All at peace. All because of him. My eyes roam over his face, his head full of hair, his long fingers.
“Hey, buddy. I’m your dad,” I whisper. “I’m going to teach you everything I know. Especially about hockey.”
Stella laughs, drawing my attention, and I toss her a wink before turning back to Julian. “I know a great story about the penalty box. That’s where the naughty boys…and girls go.” I can’t help but tease her.
She groans. “He will never know about what goes on in there,” Stella says gravely.
A wicked grin kicks up the corner of my mouth. “Sure, he will. I’ll tell him all about how I fell in love with his mommy after she let me take her on a trip to…the Sin Bin.”
THE END
Note From the Author
Thank you so much for reading Sin Bin!
I hope you enjoyed Jason and Stella’s story. Sin Bin is the beginning of the Fulton University Hockey series. Book two will release this winter.
Here’s a sneak peek at “Sweater Weather,” Levi Sexton’s story.
Sweater Weather
Chapter One
Levi
Bodies. Wall-to-wall bodies. Writhing. Grinding. Leaning. Dancing bodies. Some in way less clothes than Boston in January calls for, but I was in no way complaining.
With a drink in hand, I make my way through the crowd to my kitchen.
“Yo, Sexton! What’s up, my man?” Murphy James, my friend, roommate, and best damn goalie in the league, greets. “You see your sisters and their friend?”
He bites down on one of his knuckles. Homeboy has it bad for my little sisters’ best friend. As long as it’s not Millie or Maeve, I’d let him live.
“No. What the fuck are they even doing here? You invite them?”
The guilty-as-hell look on his face is my answer. “I might have told them they could come if they brought Kenzie.” He shrugs.
“And did they?” I question, shaking my head at his dumb ass.
“Oh yeah. And some other chick. Wicked hot, bro. Never seen her before, Cubbie called dibs,” Murphy tells me, grinning, knowing damn well I don’t give a fuck what Cubbie calls.
Topping off my drink of juice—gotta be on the ice early—I slap him on the back and go to find my sisters. I know they’re safe here in my house. Safer than anywhere else on campus, but still. You put a bunch of drunk college boys in a house and throw in a set of twins, and you’re asking for fucking trouble. Shit goes down at these parties I like to pretend my little sisters don’t know about, let alone participate in. Definitely shit I don’t want them to see me participating in.
I catch a flash of red hair in the sea of people in the living room and weave my way in that direction. I stop to say hi to people along the way, greeting some with high fives and a clap on the back, and others with a wink and a slap on the ass. I need to find my sisters and get them out of here. I’m catching serious “fuck me” eyes from Nora and her friend. I can’t for the life of me remember her name, but I can remember she sucks dick like a porn star and that she and Nora are always up for a good time. With that in mind, I point at the ceiling and the bedrooms up there and mouth to Nora, “Later,” grinning when she nods her head.
Yeah, my sisters need to go.
After a few more minutes of searching and stopping, I finally find them in the yard by the bonfire, the glow making their red hair look like live flames. Coming up behind the pair, I tug on Millie’s ponytail, only knowing it’s her and not Maeve by the number ten on the back of her Fulton University hoodie. The twins are identical, and I’m not even sure my mother can tell them apart. Mill whirls around, ready to fight, until she sees it’s me.
“Levi, you punk! I almost hit you,” she says, giving my shoulder a shove.
“Wouldn’t have hurt, short stack,” I tease, before going into serious older brother mode. “What are you doing here? Does Dad know?”
“Hi, Levi,” Maeve says sweetly, squeezing me around the waist. Maeve is sugar, all sweet and pure, where Millie is cayenne pepper and just this side of evil, always getting them into some kind of trouble.
“Hey, Maevey. Dad and Mom know you’re here?” I question, since the evil twin isn’t answering.
Plucking the red solo cup out of Millie’s hand, I bring it to my lips for a sip to make sure it’s not alcohol. She flips me off when I hand it back to her, satisfied it’s the same juice I’ve been drinking.
“Just checking, Mill. Can’t have any underage drinking here.” That earns an epic eye roll, but I don’t care. They won’t be drinking here, or anywhere else on campus. They’re nineteen, which doesn’t really matter in college, but it sure as fuck does when you have an older brother at the same school.
“Daddy knows we’re here. He said we could come, but that when you said it was time, we had to go straight home.”
Millie rolls her eyes again. “Dad wanted me to remind you to be in his office at six.”
I nod, and am just about to ask if they know what he wants when Kenzie walks up with some smokin’ hot chick I’ve never seen before. Must be the new girl. Her gaze lands on mine and bored gray eyes take me in for a moment, giving me time to do the same to her. She’s taller than the twins, but still pretty small, probably five-five at the most. Her honey-colored hair is tied back with a black ribbon, giving her a sexy school girl vibe. She’s dressed casually, not like most of the girls here. Her jeans have holes in the knees and she has a long-sleeved Tennessee Arrows shirt on, the number eight etched right above her heart, teasing over her chest, which is no less than a C-cup. Girl’s got curves for days.
“Oh my god, Becky,” I mumble under my breath, when my gaze lands on her rounded hips. I catch a glimpse of what looks like a perfect bubble ass when I crane my neck a bit to see around her.
There’s a chorus of throat clearing that finally has me bringing my eyes back up to her face. She stands there with an eyebrow raised, and a look of utter disgust on her face. Her crinkled nose highlights the light splash of freckles there and across her cheeks.
“You’re new,” I say, ignoring my sisters shaking their heads at me from behind her. They obviously appreciated me checking out their friend as much as she did.
“And you’re an asshole,” the new girl with the killer rack spits out, calling my attention to her full lips and the beauty mark above her mouth, Marilyn Monroe-style. I find myself wondering if it’s fake. Apparently, that’s a thing. Chicks use makeup to add one of the sexy marks, only that shit isn’t sexy when they do it.
“Nah, not an asshole, doll. Just a guy who appreciates great tits and a stellar ass.” I smirk, enjoying the fact that I’m pissing her off way too much.
“Oh my god, Levi!” Maeve admonishes.
“Saffie, I am so sorry. My brother usually saves his disgustingness for when we’re not around, and definitely for his skanks and not our friends,” Millie explains, glaring at me. I can feel it. I’ve still not looked away from their stupidly hot friend, the one who’s still shooting daggers at me.
“Saffron Briggs, meet my dumbass brother, Levi Sexton.”
The mention of my name has her breaking eye contact long enough to roll her eyes. “Let me guess, you’re ‘Sexy Sexton.’ The one I’ve unfortunately heard about?”
My sisters make gagging noises—they hate that nickname and the stories that go with it. The way she says it, in that hot little Yankee clip she has going on—she’s definitely not from Massachusetts—makes me forget all about the pain-in-the-ass twins and way too much about their friend, and what kind of things I’d like to do to her.
I shrug and tuck my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “So, you’ve heard about me then? Want me to show you how I got that nickname?” I offer, goading her.
She scoffs and then smiles sweetly. “No thanks. You’re not my type.”
With raised eyebrows, I nod in understanding. “Ooooh, you’re a lesbian. That’s cool. I’m all about one love, bi-love, self-love. Whatever.” I grin, flashing my dimples in added innocence, letting her know her ice queen bitchy attitude doesn't faze me.
“Oh, I like boys just fine. And even girls, occasionally. It’s you I don’t like,” she retorts smugly. “Plus, I have a boyfriend.”
I watch as she pulls a chain from the collar of her shirt, a massive ring hanging from it.
“Is that a high school ring?” I ask, holding back a laugh. Just barely. She’s cute when she’s pissed, and her boyfriend is clearly lame as fuck. “Do guys still do that?”
Her glare is enough to light my ass on fire right where I stand, but I don’t care. I don’t care about the tool boyfriend either. If I want her, the boyfriend is her problem, not mine. And Cubbie can fuck off calling dibs.
Murphy comes up just then, slapping me on the back, drawing my attention. He greets my sisters, using their hated nickname. “Hey off-limits, you two behaving?”
They give him a double eye roll and laugh him off. “Kenzie, how about you? You being a good girl?”
Blushing at him, she just nods. Kenzie is a good girl. She’s been my sisters’ best friend since first grade and a constant in my home. Aside from her pink hair, she and the twins might as well be triplets.
“Good, good,” Murph booms before turning to Saffron—Saffie, as my sister called her—who still has me locked in an epic, I-hate-your-guts-but-refuse-to-look-away-first stare down.
“Who’s your new friend, Sexy? She looks like she really likes you,” he says, laughing.
“That’s enough, you guys, leave her alone,” Millie snaps. “She’s Kenzie’s cousin, her name is Saffie, she has a boyfriend, and you can go now.” My sister dismisses us with a wave of her hand.
I bark out a laugh. “Cool it, short stack. Saffie can take care of herself. I’m not gonna bite. Much,” I add, snapping my teeth at her, and then grinning when she rolls her eyes at me again. Between the three of them, their eyes are gonna fall right out of their damn heads from all the rolling they’ve been doing.
Murphy chooses that moment to say, “Speaking of biting, Nora and her friend Ava are looking for you. I’ll keep an eye on these four.”
I bet he will. He and Cubbie are the only two I would ever trust with my sisters, actually. Not because they have some stellar reputation or anything. Those two are not even close to being fucking saints, but they do have mad respect for me, and that carries over to Millie and Maeve.
“Ladies, behave please, and remember not to take drinks from anyone you don’t know, and kick anyone getting handsy right in the fucking balls,” I order, pointing a finger between them. My sisters and Kenzie promise, while Saffie doesn’t say a thing. I wave and leave them with Murph, then go in search of Nora and her porn star friend, Ava. It’ll take the two of them to get my mind off the new girl. Saffron Briggs—even her name is hot.
About an hour has gone by, and we still haven’t made it upstairs to my room because Nora wants to wait for another friend of theirs, who is “just dying to meet me.” Who am I to deny her?
Kicked back in my oversized chair, Nora is tucked into my side kissing on my neck while Ava grinds her ass against my cock to the beat of Luv. She could teach some strippers I’ve seen a thing or two. I let my head fall back, allowing my mind to shut down and my body to just feel. The minute my eyes drift closed, a wicked hot blonde with flashing gray eyes and a smart mouth flashes behind my lids, causing me to groan. Fucking hell.
Fighting with Saffie was hot. I’m so used to these sorority chicks and puck bunnies just looking to score a hockey player that a little hard to get might be fun. Not that I don’t love easy, because I do. But a little game of “chase me” is something I can get down with.
My eyes pop open when I hear a snort, and lock on to the gray eyes I had just been thinking about, glaring first at me and then flicking to the girls draped all across my chest and lap.
I smirk at her anger. Why she’s pissed, I don’t know. Dimples flashing, I wink at her before closing my eyes again. Oh yeah. She’s gonna be fun.
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About the Author
Mandi Beck has been an avid reader all of her life. A deep love for books always had her jotting down little stories on napkins, notebooks, and her hand. As an adult she was further submerged into the book world through book clubs and the epicness of social media. It was then that she graduated to writing her stories on her phone and then finally on a proper computer.
A wife, mother to two rambunctious and somewhat rotten boys, and stepmom to two great girls away at college, she shares her time with her husband in Chicago where she was born and raised. Mandi is a diehard hockey fan and blames the Blackhawks when her deadlines are not met even though her favorite hockey player calls her…mom.
Check out Mandi’s website at www.mandibeck.com.
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