by Teagan Kade
My thoughts cut off as I pulled into my garage. This was a bad idea — the worst. I watched in the mirror as her car turned to the left, pulling into a guest parking spot.
The only way this was going to work is if I remained professional and distant during her time with me. I needed to keep my hands off and my eyes guarded. She was here because she needed help, not a good dicking.
I hopped out of the car and waited as she walked over, watching the seductive sway of her hips with every step she took. There was a bit of a limp in her gait, but it didn’t surprise me one bit. Liam and Jensen had been rather cruel on the ice.
“Looks nice,” she commented, her emerald eyes scaling the thirty-story building. “Which one is yours?”
“The penthouse,” I answered. Normally when I dropped that line I was trying to impress. This time it just made me sound sleazy.
“Of course. I don’t know why I would’ve thought otherwise,” she teased.
I led her through the garage entrance. It wasn’t nearly as impressive as the front, but I didn’t feel the need to show off or inflate my life for her. I didn’t know what it was about Rae, but I didn’t have to put on any front or mask to disguise who I really was. I was comfortable just being me with her.
The others wanted the larger than life Scott Bausch, the guy nicknamed the ‘Tooth Fairy’ who punched guys through glass and wrestled women into submission in the bedroom — some two-bit Hollywood version of me. The tabloids had another ‘T’ title for me, ‘Trouser Snake,’ of course. But I didn’t feel like that same pressure with Rae. I could be multidimensional around her, and she didn’t think less of me because of it.
We strode to the elevator lobby in silence. Every now and then I saw her take quick glimpses at me — my face, my arms, my body. I swear she checked out my ass as we got into the elevator. I couldn’t call her out on it, though, because I was doing the same thing.
My mind had already memorized all of her curves, but hey, a refresher wouldn’t hurt every now and then. Rae was a classic beauty — enchanting, memorizing, but also tough, cast from something stronger. She was bred from the women who had survived the Pittsburgh steel mills — women with iron in their eyes and an unbreakable will.
“You were great in practice today,” I said, breaking the silence.
She smiled at me as though she knew something I did not. Could she tell how badly I wanted to fuck her, to make her my plaything? “Don’t worry. You don’t have to fluff my ego to encourage me.”
“I would never dream of doing such a thing. I’m being honest.”
Just as the elevator dinged to announce the top floor, she glanced back at me. “Really? You think I did alright?” Her face was angelic in appearance, and begging for this devil’s approval.
I took out my keys and unlocked the door. “I sure as hell do. You held your own against Liam and Jensen. I couldn’t ask for a better first day from you.”
“That means a lot to… Holy shit!” she exclaimed, following me inside. “This is where you live?”
“Yeah, this is home base.” I had purchased it several weeks after I signed to coach the Kraken. For four long months I had contractors in and out knocking down walls, installing cabinets, resurfacing the floors — everything short of starting from scratch.
I wanted to transform it into my own personal sanctuary, my own place that hadn’t been touched or infected by Wanda.
No red room.
Yet.
“This is incredible,” Rae said matter-of-factly.
“I designed it myself,” I confessed.
Her eyebrows lifted. “Oh? I wouldn’t have pegged Scott Bausch as the decorative type. But it’s a little soft for you, no?”
“What? Are you saying it’s no good?” I played along.
“No. It’s very good. That is the problem.”
I shrugged, watching with a sense of pride as her eyes scoured the marble kitchen in wonder. She strode across the white fur rug in the living room, taking gentle steps, before coming to a stop in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“I can’t believe you can actually see Mount Rainier from here. It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“I’m not going to lie. That view has helped me get over the move from Chicago to Seattle more times than I care to admit. It’s just so damn peaceful.”
She nodded. “It is.” Her eyes remained fixated on the panoramic view for a few seconds longer before she turned to me. “I don’t know why, but it never occurred to me this move might’ve been a big thing for you outside of your career prospects. I mean, you said you grew up in Chicago, and that’s where you played too. That’s where your whole life has been.”
She was right on the money. “Yes, it has. I hope you won’t be too surprised when you see your room then.”
“Why do you say that?”
I couldn’t help smiling. “Come with me.”
I led her down the hallway and into the spare bedroom.
“Oh. My. God,” she said, entering.
The main wall was consumed by two flags: one for the Blackhawks and one for the city of Chicago. Beneath them laid a large, plush king bed with matching throw pillows. “What do you think?” I asked.
Rae began to laugh. “I can’t believe you. During dinner you were telling me I would have to shed my Pittsburgh Penguin loyalty in order to join the Kraken, but here you are with your turncoat cave.”
I couldn’t help it. I began to roar with laughter. “Turncoat cave?”
“What else would you call it?” she asked, throwing herself on the bed. “Oh, this feels way better than it should.”
It was just like I had imagined in the car. Her copper locks draped across the white sheets, her legs resting gently apart…
Already my cock twitched in my pants, keen to be released.
I coughed, yanking my mind away from the porn film it was about to replay. “You hungry?”
“I’m always hungry.”
“Excellent. I’m going to run out and get us some pizza.” I needed an excuse to get away. Being around her like this was too tempting. She hadn’t even been here for five minutes and already I was desperate to mount her. “While I’m gone, why don’t you unpack and make yourself at home?”
She sat up, staring at me wide-eyed with those gorgeous bottle-green eyes. “Unpack?”
Fuck me. My cock was begging for her. “Yeah, we don’t know how long you’ll be here. You might as well make yourself comfortable.” She wasn’t even wearing particularly revealing clothes, but damn if she wasn’t the sexiest woman I had ever laid eyes on. Every second I spent with her confirmed it.
“Alright. All I ask is that you don’t get Hawaiian. I’m not a fan of the whole fruit-on-pizza thing. It’s an abomination. People who like that seriously have something screwed up in their brains.”
Funny that.
I fucking loved Hawaiian pizza.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SCOTT
The alarm clock on my phone went off an hour early. I groaned as I sat up and swiped my finger across the smooth surface, killing the sound. I hated waking up early, but I was determined to avoid having to offer Rae a ride to the rink out of politeness. Yesterday had proven to be a bit too much for me to handle. I don’t know why I couldn’t just keep my hands off the merchandise, but I was itching to touch her, the one thing I couldn’t do as her coach.
I rolled out of bed, slipping on my house shoes and padding out into the hallway. I nearly jumped when I saw light slipping beneath the bathroom door, the water running. Rae was already awake. She hummed a simple tune. It wasn’t anything I recognized, but that didn’t stop me from pressing my ear to the door to hear more.
A small stream of steam escaped from the bathroom, making wisps around my feet. My mind toyed with the idea of being in there with her — naked, hard. I watched in my perverted imagination as water ran down her copper hair, coating her, making her slick and wet. Droplets would form at the tip of her pert, pink nipples. I licked
my lips, wanting nothing more than to sink my mouth around them and suck until she was begging me to stop.
My cock came to attention at that thought. It was so hard it was practically uncomfortable. I could’ve broken rocks with the thing.
I shook my head. I needed to stop thinking about these thoughts. I needed to get a hold on my fucking imagination and fantasies. They were dangerous. I was her coach. She was my player. We were professionals. Nothing more.
Besides, it’s not like I hadn’t seen my fair share of naked women in the shower. Why did my mind have to obsess over Rae? Why was her firm and taut body the one I wanted the most? I could have any woman I wanted. Why was it only her I had eyes for?
It’ll pass, I told myself. Give it time, big boy.
This was beyond aggravating. This uncontrollable lust was going to be my downfall. I had to keep my eyes on the goal. I couldn’t let my cock get in the way of my future in the Hall of Fame.
I took a step back from the bathroom door and continued out to the kitchen, grabbing myself a cup of coffee. I enjoyed a few sips, watching the city come alive below me, before I returned to my room and dressed. Just as I was pulling up my pants, and trying to tuck my boner in, I heard the water in the bathroom shut off.
I looked down to my crotch. “Time to get the fuck out of Dodge, pal.”
*
I sauntered into the practice rink carrying my briefcase and coffee thermos. The tunnels were empty and quiet, which was a good sign. I guessed the guys were already in the locker room getting changed for practice rather than standing out here horsing around.
The day was off to a good start.
“Good job, men. That is what I like to see,” I yelled as I entered the locker room, heading for my office at the other side.
But they weren’t receptive to my enthusiasm. A few guys slumped along the bench, staring at the gray tile floor. The others didn’t even glance over their shoulder to look at me. They stared down at their hands, watching as they continued on with their routine. The air in the room was tense and silent.
“What’s going on?” I asked, continuing making my way to my office. “Who died?”
Nobody answered me, but they didn’t have to. When I saw my starting lineup standing beside my office door, save Cormac, I knew exactly what this was about.
Fucking mutiny.
Liam pushed himself off the wall, heading straight for me. “Coach, we need to talk.”
“I bet we do,” I said, sliding my key into the office lock. The heavy door slid open. I flicked on the lights and took my time hanging my blazer in my small armoire and emptying out the items in my briefcase.
The four men shuffled in behind me, lining up in front of my desk. The last one in, Brody, closed the door. They all waited in stiff silence while I got seated.
It was going to be one of those meetings.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” I asked, sliding my hands behind my head. I knew this was coming. I was ready for whatever bullshit they had to throw at me.
“The girl,” Liam answered.
“She has a name,” I replied.
“I don’t care what her name is. I don’t want her on the team.”
“And why’s that?” I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear him say it. I wanted to hear him make a schmuck of himself.
“Because this isn’t a women’s team. She’s not good enough. She’s not tough enough. She’s not skilled enough. Having a pussy on the ice devalues all of us.” His tone was surprisingly aggressive. “Even you, Coach. Now, I love hockey as much as the next guy in this room. I play because I’m passionate, and there’s nothing else I’d rather do on this earth. But if she continues to skate for this team, I’m out.”
He was going straight for the jugular, offering an ultimatum. Liam was a good player, but he didn’t have the kind of industry clout it took to make demands like that. He had only been playing in the NHL for three years, but with the way he talked, you’d think he was Gretzky. Who was he trying to fool with this big show of quitting? We were sourcing kids left and right from Scandinavia and Eastern Europe that were faster, better, and younger. It was deeply stupid of him to come in here and try to shove me around.
I opened my mouth to speak, but Jensen cut me off.
“We don’t hate her because she’s a girl.” He side-eyed Liam. Had they rehearsed their talking points before coming in here? “We just want to win. That’s all. If you had brought in a shit goaltender that was male, we’d still be here.”
“You don’t think you can win with her?” I asked Jensen. “What, because she’s the last line of defense on the ice? If the opposing team keeps making it back to our end of the rink to score, that’s your lack of skill, not hers. That’s you five losing the puck.”
He bucked up. “Yes, we can win games. Me, Liam, Brody, Erik, and Cormac… We’re good players. We can hold our own. But I’m not just talking about simple season games. I’m talking about playoffs, the Cup.”
“And you always talk about how important team congruence is,” Erik jumped in. “The only way we’ll win is if were playing like a team — if we feel like a team. With her at our backs, we don’t feel like a team. She’s not one of us.”
I kept my mouth shut as I listened to them drone on. I wanted them to feel as though I had heard them, since apparently feelings were very important to Erik all of a sudden. But truth be told, I thought their arguments were all BS. “What about you, Brody? Got anything to add?”
Brody shrugged his shoulders, keeping quiet as usual.
“Well, you came in with the rest of them, so I’m assuming you agree with them, no?” I cocked an eyebrow at him. I wanted to know where he stood, so when I eventually unleashed hell, I could be sure he felt just as guilty as the others.
“Yeah, I agree with them,” he answered me in a flat, deep voice.
“Fire her,” Liam demanded.
“Liam, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we don’t exactly have another goaltender to take her spot, nor is it in the budget to hire another. Even if I were to bench her the entire season, we’d still have to pay her salary. She’ll still be on the roster. We’re capped. We already have twenty-three.”
He stood firm. “I don’t care. I don’t want you to bench her. I want you to fucking kick her ass out.” Liam folded his arms across his chest and lifted his nose in the air like a stubborn, spoiled brat.
I laughed at him, all this bravado. Hell, I’d once been him, but I wasn’t going to give in. And this wasn’t just about my cock — this was about the success of the team. “Get the fuck out of my office, get your skates on, grab your sticks, and get your asses on the ice. You’re all professionals. Start fucking acting like it. You don’t come in here and make demands of me. You play with who the hell I tell you to play with. At the end of the month I cut you a check. It is that. Fucking. Simple.”
Liam shook his head. “If you’re not going to get rid of her, we’ll do it ourselves.”
“What are you going to do?” I laughed. “Go whine to Tripp and Allie? You think they care? Who do you think signed off on hiring her?” I sat up, eager to meet Liam’s challenge.
He simmered, but the fight wasn’t won. “It’s only been a couple months since you last played professionally. You know better than anyone what the team does when they don’t like you.”
Yeah, I knew. They bullied and harassed you until you broke. But Rae was tough. What I couldn’t block, I knew she could deflect. She proved she was made of steel her first day on the ice with these idiots.
They weren’t going to break her.
“The four of you need to start acting like a team,” I said the words, but I knew they weren’t going to listen. “Now, get the fuck out of my office.”
“Whatever you say, Coach,” Liam smirked.
And while I knew I’d put a dent in their plans, I also knew things were going get a hell of a lot uglier before they got better.
CHAPTER EIGHT
&nb
sp; SCOTT
I stepped out onto the ice and slid across the surface with ease. It felt good to be back in my domain, back to normality. Staying at Bausch’s condo had played more with my mind than I thought it would. My entire frame of reference had been thrown off. Everything about the situation was just too… nice? Formal? I didn’t know the word.
The man was a known womanizer, a man who believed women served as his personal cock-holster. I had seen the never-ending headlines of his escapades with women in the tabloids and sports magazines, all with blurry pictures as proof. He was cocky, proud, and arrogant, especially when the cameras were rolling and the lights were on him. I had been watching the guy on national television for more than a decade. I knew exactly what he was like.
I had watched a few of his more infamous interviews in the airport before my flight. Bausch couldn’t quit talking about himself, and the way he handled and touched the women around them — he definitely took advantage of his position. He used his success, athletic body, and money to have his way with them. I hated how they batted their eyes, completely ensnared in his trap. I told myself I wasn’t going to be one of them.
But at the same time, he took me in without question. He gave me food, a place to stay, and shelter… all in complete luxury. He didn’t have to provide any of that. He could’ve dropped me off at a Motel Eight and slid the company credit card across the check-in counter. Instead, he went out of his way to make me comfortable and taken care of. I was ashamed to admit it, but it was a small taste of something I had been longing for.
I glanced at him. He stood beside the team bench with his arms folded across his chest. Despite him wearing a jacket, I could still make out the shape and definition of his arms. The man may have been in his mid-thirties, but he still worked out religiously. His shoulders were rounded, biceps and chest filled out. He told me he was of German descent, and it showed on his face. He had a strong jawline with smoldering eyes, the kind that run right through you.