Revenge Puck (Shot at Love #1)

Chapter 16

16

Preston

E ven hours later, I’m still distracted by my morning with Elle.

A growing part of me regrets stopping. A part that’s been aching for her for hours, unable to forget how sexy Elle was in her lacy panties and bra. The sweet taste of her neck. Her cries when I found out how hot and slick she was.

I walk into the locker room in a damn daze. The shout of one of my teammates has me finally coming up for air.

“Dude! Where the hell did your beard go?” Saul asks and the entire locker room goes silent.

“On the floor of the salon,” I say as I drop my bag on the floor and plop my ass onto the bench.

“Why, man? What were you thinking?” Vincent asks softly.

“I wasn’t thinking. I let the woman cutting my hair decide what to do with the beard. She left the roots so…”

“So, we’re going to fucking lose now!” our goalie exclaims.

“Hot damn! If Pres kills Vinnie, I’ll finally get to start,” Spencer says with a chuckle, causing Vincent to flip him the finger.

Our goalie isn’t cowed, though. He, and some of the other guys, look…distraught.

“Oh, get the fuck over it,” I tell them. “Not shaving during the playoffs is just a bunch of superstitious bullshit and you all know it. Grow a pair and let it go. The amount of fur on your face tonight isn’t what’s going to make or break us. It’s how we fucking play.”

“That makes sense,” Saul mutters. “I should really wash my lucky socks.”

“Yes, you definitely should,” I tell him. “We’ve got this, gentlemen. There’s no amount of superstition that’s going to stop us from kissing the championship trophy this year.”

“Still, there’s no denying that you don’t look as intimidating without most of your face hidden behind blackness,” Nick remarks when he comes over for a close look.

Getting to my feet, I tower over him, even though he’s already in his skates. “She cut my hair, not my balls off, asshole.”

“She may as well have. You don’t scare me half as much as you did before. Same will go for opponents,” he remarks, even though he’s backing away.

“Then I guess I’ll have to hit people twice as hard to make up for my appearance,” I respond. “You just worry about scoring, Reeves, and let me handle the intimidation.”

I try not to let the concerned glances from my teammates, and hell, even the coaches, bother me during warm-ups.

It’s time to get my head in the game. Nothing else.

Well, maybe a little something else when Riley comes out of the locker room to take some practice shots.

As I skate up to him, he turns as if sensing my presence, and shoots one of the pucks in his pile right at my face.

Thankfully, my quick reflexes have me ducking to dodge so it doesn’t hit me in the damn head.

“I don’t buy your bullshit about dating Elle for a second,” he grumbles.

I don’t even like hearing him say her name.

“You don’t buy it, huh? Even though I’m intimately familiar with her pink bra and panties with the cute little rosebuds on them? They are hot as hell, and so sheer, you can see right through them.”

“What the hell, Lawrence? You been snooping through Elle’s underwear drawer like a perv?”

“No, I saw them when I peeled them off her sexy body last night in my hotel room.”

So, that only happened in my dreams, but it felt real enough after I got Elle off on my fingers.

Rather than get angry, Riley chuckles. “Nice try, but I know you haven’t fucked her. You wouldn’t risk nutting before a game this big with so much on the line.”

“I didn’t say we fucked, did I? There are plenty of things I can do for her—not that you would know because you’re a selfish fucking prick.”

“Maybe I am selfish,” he agrees. “But I don’t have a stupid rule about saving up a load before a game. If anything, I always had the best luck if I came down Elle’s throat right before the puck drop.”

This son of a bitch…

“All I had to do was sit my ass down in her chair and she would gladly swallow every drop I gave her.”

The rage I had tried to push down comes boiling up like a volcano ready to erupt.

But there are more important things than knocking the asshole out cold on the ice before the game starts.

Winning the championship trophy for my family, my teammates, the fans, getting my contract renewed, those are all more important. I’ll take all my anger at Riley and use it for good—hitting all the Bobcats who got to feel Elle’s fingers in their hair. I’ll spread the hate around, do my job to keep the Bobcats from scoring, and help my team score enough goals to win game two.

So, before I skate off, I simply tell Riley, “Is the lack of Elle’s mouth going to be your excuse when you lose again tonight? Let’s see if my good luck comes from getting on my knees for her.”

It’s another fantasy, of course. I would love to get my tongue between Elle’s legs…but I’m leaving tonight after the game.

After we win.

I don’t even know if I’ll see Elle again before the bus loads up.

When I get back to the locker room, I send her a text, making sure she picked up her tickets at Will Call. I also ask her to come say goodbye after the game, as hard as it will be, so I can see her one last time.