Come Undone: A Hockey Romance

by Penny Dee

  “You know, I haven’t had a chance to say it before now, kid, but thanks.” He was awkward in showing any type of emotion but it made it all the more appreciative. “If you hadn’t walked into the bar that Saturday afternoon . . . well, I think we have a lot to be thankful for.”

  I grinned but damn if my nerves weren’t taking off like a firecracker.

  “He’s a special guy,” I replied, watching as the man I had fallen in love with glided across the ice. I turned back to Coach. “Hey, he’s got this.”

  Just before the start of the game, while the music still blared out of the state-of-the-art arena sound system and the two teams warmed up on the ice, two older men appeared at our side.

  They were Jim Keeper and Bob Murdoch, sportscasters for the Galveston Fury. Dressed in suits, but both looking slightly disheveled, they didn’t seem very interested in the game they were about to call.

  “Rumor has it you have a new player,” Jim Keeper said. He had a head of shocking white hair and was the more distinguished of the two.

  “Oh, yeah, and who would that be?” Coach asked, his eyes fixed firmly on the ice.

  “Jake Pennington,” Bob Murdoch replied.

  Judging by both of their demeanors, neither of them believed it.

  “Seems like the grapevine has it right this time,” Coach said.

  Jim and Bob traded looks.

  “So you’re saying that is Jake Pennington out there?” Jim Keeper asked, unable to contain his surprise.

  “The one and only,” I replied proudly.

  “And he’s playing for the Fury?” Bob Murdoch asked, just as surprised.

  Coach gestured to the number nine jersey on the ice and both men turned to look.

  “Well, I’ll be goddamned,” Bob said shaking his head.

  We all watched for a moment before Jim turned back to Coach. “Well, good luck, buddy. Can’t get any worse, I suppose.”

  I watched the well-seasoned sportscasters walk away and sighed. Did anyone have faith in the Galveston Fury?

  I looked at Coach who looked nervous.

  “Do you think your boy is on point, kid?” he asked.

  Hiding my anxiety I winked and grinned. “Don’t worry, Coach. The Fury have got his.”

  And they did.

  They beat the Oregon Outlaws in a landslide six to one victory.

  In the commentator’s booth, Bob Murdoch summed up the feeling in the arena perfectly, “Holy freakin’ smokes, the Galveston Fury actually won.”

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Mackenzie

  “And welcome back to game four of the mighty Galveston Fury versus the Minnesota Menace. And what a game it’s going to be.”

  “You know, the Fury really need to win this if they want in on those playoffs.”

  “And the key to winning is . . ?”

  “Not losing, Jim.”

  —Jim Keeper & Bob Murdoch, profound sportscasters for CBO Television

  Over the next six weeks, the Galveston Fury moved through the leader board, slowly making their way toward the top.

  To say Jake was in form was an understatement. He was like a tornado on the ice. Focused and determined. The media was quick to jump on his story and within two games he was being hailed as The Comeback Kid.

  But for all the excitement surrounding his return to the ice, Jake’s focus remained on his team and the ultimate goal: the Stanley Cup. If they won the next two games, it would put them in contention for a wild card placement into the Stanley Cup playoffs.

  Seasoned and more than experienced, he saw the weakness in each player and set about helping them overcome what was holding them back on the ice.

  With Loki the Destroyer, it was his anger issues and lack of restraint that led to his aggressive behavior on the ice. So Jake spent some time with him off the ice, taking him to Tai Chi and yoga classes to help the volatile goalie cope with his rage and violent tendencies.

  Loki had also suffered a terrible groin injury several months earlier and even though it had healed, psychologically he was being held back by fear. He’d once been known for his quick splits and quick puck blocking moves, but now Loki was more likely to freeze when a puck came flying at his crease. Until Jake took him to Pilates classes.

  The change was almost immediate.

  Because Jake spent a lot of time with Loki, I got to know him as well, and we formed a strange, unique friendship. He felt like a younger brother—the strange, weird brother you lock in the basement—but a brother, nonetheless.

  Loki collected goalie helmets and spent a fortune on them. Every game saw a different helmet with a new character painted onto the carbon fiber shell—from Sylvester the Cat and Kermit the Frog, to the more terrifying yeti, skull, and Lucifer masks.

  Casanova’s fall down was more off the ice. Puck-bunny addiction. It was a lot harder to treat and almost beyond Jake’s capabilities.

  So he got Casanova right where his heart should be. His pride. He had a friend put together some of the best footage of past Stanley Cup wins and after getting Casanova drunk on his favorite scotch, he made him watch it, frame by ostentatious frame. Jake had managed to get Casanova so excited about the possibility of winning the Cup, the legendary lothario had signed an agreement to not dabble in any puck-bunny activity until after the playoffs.

  Cowboy was impressed.

  Hell, I was impressed. Casanova’s exploits were legendary. Even to a rookie like me.

  With Hank the Tank, it was his lack of speed on the ice. Oh, he had the size and braun but it slowed him down when it counted. So, Jake got up early and helped Hank improve his speed with predawn time trials and sprints every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

  Next up was Jupiter. Sweet Jupiter. The British charmer was lovely. Whenever I was around the team, he always paid special attention to me. He had no idea that Jake and I were anything more than agent and player, because Jake and I had decided to keep our personal involvement a secret for the time being. So, he was flirtatious and charming, and made no secret that he was interested in me. Jake did, however, get him to give up his penchant for fine scotch during the conference campaign.

  One day when I was watching a scrimmage on the ice, and Jake had already gone to the locker room to change, Jupiter decided to make a move and asked me out on a date.

  I had to think quick.

  “I don’t mix business and pleasure,” I said, trying to sound direct but at the same time trying to let him down gently.

  “That’s good, because the way I see it, Jake is your business and I am more than willing to be your pleasure.” His smile was disarming. Playful. Lethal. “How about dinner?”

  “Thanks for the offer, but—”

  I was about to tell Jupiter that I had a boyfriend but Loki interrupted us, calling out to me across the ice. “Kenzie! Look!” He held up his newest helmet. “It’s a real Loki mask!”

  He put the intimidating green mask on and started to do a little dance across the ice. I broke into laughter.

  Jupiter winked at me and started to skate off. “Just so you know, I’m going to keep asking until you say yes.”

  He was gone before I could reply.

  Later when I told Jake, instead of laughing it off like I thought he would, his eyebrows drew in and he looked serious—almost sulky—as he listened to me. We were in the massive two-story home he was renting in Galveston. It was huge, with high ceilings, tall walk-through windows, and a wide wrap-around veranda.

  Jake was lying on his bed, propped up against his pillows, wearing nothing but a pair of black sweats that sat low on his hips.

  “You’re frowning,” I said, after telling him about Jupiter.

  “My teammate is hitting on my girlfriend,” he replied, his eyes dark as he watched me walk toward him. “I know I’ve never had a girlfriend before, but I’m pretty sure me wanting to rip Jupiter’s face off right now is about normal.”

  I couldn’t help but grin. I’d never seen the jeal
ous side of Jake before and it was kind of a turn on.

  I climbed on the bed but stayed at the edge.

  “You know, you don’t have anything to feel jealous about,” I reassured him. “Jupiter hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  “He wants to fuck my girlfriend,” Jake said frankly.

  I crawled across the bed and slid my legs on either side of his abs to straddle him.

  “Well, at least he wants to take me to dinner first,” I joked, but Jake barely cracked a smile and I was a little taken back by how deep his jealousy went.

  He flinched as my fingers found the warm planes of his abs.

  “He called me beautiful,” I teased, heat instantly pooling in the places I wanted Jake to satisfy when I shifted against the growing thickness in his sweatpants. When I splayed my fingers across his chest I felt his heartbeat speed up.

  “That is because you are,” he replied, fixing me with his dark eyes. “I don’t think there is one guy on the team who hasn’t imagined you naked.”

  I leaned down and brushed my lips against his. “Well, aren’t you the lucky one then because you get to see me naked whenever you want to.”

  I pulled away to look at him and his hands slid up my hips to hold me in place.

  “Whenever I want to?”

  I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Whenever. You. Want. To.”

  Slowly, I began to undo the buttons of my shirt, my eyes remaining firmly focused on my boyfriend who was now fully hard beneath me.

  When I peeled off my shirt and dropped it to the floor, I saw lust flash in his eyes. I shifted against him and pleasure rippled across his face. Again, his lips parted and a small puff of air left his mouth.

  “I want you to give me what only you can give me,” I breathed.

  I pushed the band of his sweatpants down and took him in my hands, and he shivered beneath my touch, a small moan escaping his parted lips as my fingers curled around him. He was so big and thick and my body throbbed with the need to have him inside of me.

  Rising up on my knees I adjusted my thong to one side, and then slowly—very slowly—sank down onto his thickness, drawing him in and swallowing him wholly.

  Jake’s head fell and his eyes rolled back.

  “Oh, baby . . .” he moaned, his jealousy seemingly forgotten.

  I closed my eyes as I settled around him and a million tiny pulses of bliss fluttered through me. He filled me completely, his hardness and his size fitting me perfectly in every way, and I needed a moment because it felt so good.

  Then very slowly, I began to rock against him and the pleasure was immediate. In this position, every sensitive nerve was caught up in a tidal wave of friction. No matter how I moved, no matter what direction, no matter how deep or shallow my hips moved, the sensation was cranked up to an intensity I had never experienced before.

  My head fell back and his name fell from my lips as I moved against him. Oh, God.

  I straightened to meet his dark gaze, and a billion stars of euphoria exploded in me as I took in his expression of uncertainty . . . of vulnerability.

  “Tell me you’re mine,” he breathed deeply. “Just mine . . .”

  I didn’t say anything, instead, I let my body do the talking. I clenched around him tighter, gripping him, showing him how in this moment I was his and only his.

  And then I watched as he closed his eyes and his fingers pressed into my hips and his body responded to what I was doing to him. His brows drew together. He pushed his head back into his pillows and his mouth parted with a long and drawn-out moan. Running his powerful hands up my back, he pulled me down to him and shuddered, moaning my name into my shoulder as he pulsed inside of me.

  Pleasure tore through me like an atomic bomb. Watching him come, hearing him breathe my name as he was consumed by ecstasy was too much and I was rocked by a climax so powerful I cried out, dragging my nails down his chest as I came.

  When I pulled back to look at him, I was stalled by the look of vulnerability still on his face. I stared into his eyes and I could see the emotion there, unveiled and running deep.

  I pressed my mouth to his. “I’m yours,” I whispered against his lips. “Yours and only yours.”

  Jake’s voice was hoarse. “I hope so, Z. Because every part of me belongs to you.”

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Mackenzie

  The following morning, Jake went out for coffee and breakfast while I slept in. I’d stayed up late the night before trying to defuse the impact of Daisy Jones’s latest drama. She had rear-ended someone on her way home from a nightclub and then failed the mandatory sobriety test afterwards. The ramifications were going to be huge. Especially with her endorsement deals, considering one of them was with SafetyFirst, a national vehicle safety brand.

  I had rang John Johnston, her manager, and told him we needed to meet. Daisy was unraveling and we needed to get her the help she needed before she had some kind of breakdown. Her well-being was my priority, while her ability to go on tour in two weeks was his.

  We had argued and he had pulled rank. I was only her agent while he was her manager. He told me to shut the hell up, so I told him to go fuck himself. Daisy needed something, and she needed that something quick.

  Daisy wasn’t answering her phone so I left her a ton of messages to call me. When she didn’t, I’d waited up, pacing and worrying, a thousand different scenarios rushing through my brain as to why she wasn’t answering her phone. Finally, a little after one o’clock in the morning, her father rang me to let me know she was safely tucked into bed.

  Exhausted, I’d climbed into bed next to a sleeping Jake and fallen asleep curled into his warmth.

  Hours later, the sound of Jake closing his bedroom door woke me up.

  “Hey, Sleepy,” he said gently. When I briefly peeked through tired eyes he was sitting on the edge of the bed, a box of Krispy Kreme in one hand, and to-go coffee in the other.

  I closed my eyes and smiled to myself. I was a damn lucky girl.

  “Is that Krispy Kreme?” I asked, opening one eye.

  “Yep.”

  “And a coffee with creamer and two sugars?”

  “A-ha.”

  I opened both eyes. “Am I dreaming?”

  “Na-ah.” He grinned. “Am I the best or what?”

  I sat up and grinned back at him. “You are seriously the best!” I watched as he opened the Krispy Kreme box and six shiny, original, glazed donuts came into view. “God, I love you.”

  Jake paused and turned to look at me, his eyes as wide as saucers, his eyebrows raised.

  Mine went just as wide when I realized what I had said.

  Immediately, my mind snapped wide awake. “No, I don’t. That’s not what I meant,” I backpedaled quickly. I closed my eyes and mentally face palmed. When I opened them again, Jake was grinning up at me.

  “I don’t love you,” I assured him.

  His grin grew wider. “Yes, you do. You totally love me. And you should, because I am so damn lovable.”

  I rolled my eyes at him, “And not to mention modest.”

  I reached for a donut. But he yanked the box away. “Nah-uh. Not ‘til you say it again.”

  When he pulled out an original glazed donut and held it even farther away I gave up. “Fine,” I said. “I love you.” I gave him a pointed look. “Now can I have the donut?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Not ‘til you say it like you mean it.”

  I slumped my shoulders. “You’re mean.”

  “No, I’m not. I think we’ve already established how lovable I am.” He held the donut to his mouth. “Now say it, or the donut gets it.”

  I sighed. Defeated. The safety of my donut depended on it. Rising up on my knees I looked him in the eyes and placed my hand over his heart.

  “Jake Pennington—sexiest hockey player of all time—not only do I love you . . .” I paused, my eyes on his, “but I am crazy for you.”

  As I spoke Jake’s face grew serious.
All the humor left his eyes and I watched as his pulse pounded against his throat. The moment had turned serious. Beneath my hand, his heart sped up. I smiled and went to pull my hand away to reach for my donut but he quickly pressed it back down to his chest.

  “Do you mean that?” he asked softly.

  I looked at him and love burst from my heart, flooding every pore of my being.

  “More than you could know,” I replied.

  His eyes searched my face, searching for any sign I was playing around. But I wasn’t. I was crazy in love with him and I didn’t plan on fighting it anymore.

  Finally, he smiled that big bright smile of his, and handed me my donut.

  I grinned as I bit into it, and then pressed sugary kisses all over his beautiful mouth with my original glazed-covered lips. He laughed and pulled me down to him, flipping me on my back and kissing me hard and long.

  He didn’t say I love you back but I didn’t need him to. I had a feeling my hockey player was already crazy in love with me.

  * * *

  Jake

  I was crazy in love with her. Mind-blowing, crazy, all-consuming in love with her. And she was so easy to fall in love with because she was beautiful and sexy, and funny, and I couldn’t get enough of her.

  In all the chaos of playing for a new team and training hard for a conference win, she was my sanity. My ground. The days I came home to find her sitting on the porch reading, or napping in my bed, or in the kitchen attempting to make some kind of edible meal, were the happiest days of my life. I would scoop her up in my arms and spend the next few hours slowly making love to her until we were both spent.

  It was an incredible time. Everything was so new. Our relationship. My job. Where I lived. And best of all, I got to do it all with her. Together we explored Galveston and I began to fall in love with the island where everyone was so warm and welcoming. We lost hours exploring the nineteenth-century charm of historic, downtown Galveston, sightseeing and drinking in the sunshine and activity around the bustling seaport, and the different bars and restaurants that peppered the eclectic town. And it was easy to be seduced by the lazy, calmness of living on an island where it took you no more than twenty minutes to get anywhere you wanted to go. It was a stark change from New York.