Revenge Puck (Shot at Love #1)

Chapter 31

31

Preston

“ Y o, Lawrence,” Saul calls out from the group of our teammates huddled around the sofa. Finley’s been taking them on, one by one, and beating them handily in the hockey pro video game while Maya supervises like a mama hen.

“What’s up?” I ask when I join the group.

“Why didn’t you tell us you had a little hockey genius nephew or a smoking hot sister?”

“Why do you think?” Vincent responds with a slap upside the back of Saul’s head, saving me the effort. “He was right to hide them from the likes of you.”

“How is he so good at this game?” Maya comes up and asks me. “He’s only allowed to play half an hour on weekdays and an hour on weekends!”

Holding up my palms defensively, I tell her, “Don’t look at me. I know better than to break any of your rules.”

“Joey has this game, too,” Finley informs us. “We played for four hours straight one day while he tried to beat me.”

“That is…I’m going to have a talk with Joey’s mothers tonight,” Maya huffs. “Which reminds me, it’s way past the little hockey genius’s bedtime.” She rolls her eyes at Saul, but there’s still a smile on her face at his nickname.

I wonder what the guys would say if they knew his genius was possibly skills inherited by his hockey pro father they beat earlier tonight.

“Just one more game, Mom. Please?” Finley begs when he finishes whooping Darrell’s ass. “This is the only time I’ll ever be able to beat these guys.”

“Yeah, Mom,” Nick echoes. “One more game with the champ. I haven’t had my turn.”

“Fine,” Maya huffs. “But this is the last game, so make it count.” To me she says, “You’ve created a monster. He’ll be bragging about tonight for years to come.”

“Just wait another few days when he can brag about beating half the players who won the championship trophy.”

“Damn, right,” Saul agrees proudly with a smirk before he sees Maya glaring at him. “I mean, heck yeah. Warhawks! Warhawks!”

The whole room chants the word while I go in search of my girlfriend. Now that I have proof that indulging before a game makes me play better, not worse, I intend to indulge the hell out of Elle multiple times tonight.

Tonight was the first score I’ve ever had in a playoff or championship game, and it feels fucking fantastic.

My good mood quickly deflates, however, when I find Elle just outside the front door, talking to three pricks who sure as shit weren’t invited to our little shindig.

“What are you doing here? How did you get this address?” I hear Elle hiss at Riley.

“Oh, I saw some pics of players celebrating. Did a little digging. It wasn’t that hard to figure out.”

His eyes lift from her to over her shoulder on my approach. “What do you want? Elle is done with you.”

“I came to hear it straight from her mouth,” he replies. “Damn, I miss that mouth of yours, babe,” he says to my girlfriend. Then to me, “She’s got an amazing one, doesn’t she? Unless…maybe you don’t know.”

“I’m about to hit you so hard your mouth will have to be wired shut for months,” I warn him, my fists clenching at my sides, ready to haul back and knock his ass out. The only thing standing in my way is Elle.

“Ah. So, maybe you haven’t gotten the full salon experience yet. Too bad. Guess Ellie doesn’t get all cute and horny whenever she sees you like she did for me.”

That would have been his last words if I didn’t have my sister and nephew to support thanks to his sorry ass.

Before I can ram my fist into his face, Elle reaches back and covers my clenching right hand with her much smaller one. She intertwines our fingers to hold mine hostage from doing something that will land me in hot water not only with the Warhawks but with the local cops.

“Why did you block me, Ellie? I know we’re not finished. Did this asshole make you do it?” Riley asks, nodding his chin toward me. “He loves convincing women to stop talking to me.”

Ah, so he’s pissed at Elle and still not over her. At least Elle seems to have moved on. I hope she has. Blocking his number and sleeping with me made me assume so. But then again, he’s her actual ex and not a man she pretended to want to be with. They were together for months, while I’ve only known her a few days. Those details make me hate him even more.

“Shouldn’t you be weeping about tonight’s loss between some puck bunny’s boobs?” Elle asks the asshole. Yeah, I think she’s definitely over him. And I’ll have to fist bump her later for that killer insult.

“Can’t seem to find a rack that’s better than yours to weep into, Ellie,” the asshole replies with a wink. “Tired of pretending with the yeti yet?”

“Not sure if you noticed, but I gave Preston the full yeti makeover. Left just enough scruff on his face to tickle me in the best way.” She turns to face me, between me and Riley. Turning her back to him, she reaches up to run her fingers over both sides of my face, around to my chin. When I capture her thumb between my teeth, she laughs and shivers. Without looking at the jerk behind her, she says quietly, “Just so you know, Christian, women like when men get on their knees too.”

Damn. That was one hell of a burn, hitting the asshole where it hurts the most.

The fucker opens his mouth as if to make a snide remark, most likely about me not knowing my way around a woman’s body, when Elle turns around and says, “You’ll also be glad to know that all my STD tests came back negative. It was a stressful few days waiting to hear back after you admitted to dicking around all over the country.”

“You need us to escort these guys out of here, Pres?” Vincent asks when him and Spencer come up on either side of me and Elle outside on the porch.

“Nah, the playboy and his friends were just leaving before he has to watch the rest of the finals from his hospital room.”

Riley scoffs, lifting his middle finger to flip me off before he turns around and walks off, knowing better than to push me. I don’t miss his glance back toward the windows of the full living room as he goes, like he’s looking for someone else. Thank god Maya was distracted with Finley’s game play and didn’t see him.

Even after he’s gone, I can’t relax. Riley isn’t going to just give up on Elle and go away, either because the prick actually cares about her or just wants to hurt me.

And once the championship games are over, I won’t be in Greensboro as often, while he lives there so close to Elle.

What kind of future can Elle and I even have with her living in North Carolina and me living in California? How could long-distance work for us when she won’t ever trust me because of the dick that admitted to cheating on her during all of his away games?

Elle

“Let’s take a moment to recover from the unwanted visitor,” I suggest to Preston when I take his hand and lead him down the hallway to his bedroom.

Once we’re inside the dimly lit room, I shut and lock the door. When I turn around, he’s looming over me, so close I have to tip my head all the way back to see his face. His large hands grab my hips to push my back against the door. This new aggressive side of Preston is one I like a lot.

“I hate that he called you babe,” he confesses. “And Ellie.”

Finding words when he’s so close I can’t breathe without our chests rubbing isn’t easy, but I manage. “I-I just think it’s cute that Finley calls me Ellie, too.”

“What’s not cute was the fucker talking about how much you apparently enjoyed going down on him in the salon chair.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell him when I hook my fingers into the waistband of his jeans to tug his big body against mine, so there’s not the least bit of space between us. “But in my defense, my enjoyment of that particular activity is not exclusive to him. In fact, the bigger the stick, the more I love doing it. And it doesn’t get any bigger than yours, Pres.” Done with teasing him, I palm the front of his pants, humming with approval at the hard bulge rapidly forming. I give it a squeeze and stroke it through the denim.

“You’re just…trying to distract me from my anger…at that son of a bitch,” he says through pants.

“Would you rather keep talking about Christian Riley or let me do something more fun with my mouth? I’m already wet just thinking about it.”

It takes less than a second for Preston to undo the button on his pants, then lower the zipper.

I drop to my knees and reach up to take over lowering his jeans down his thighs, then his boxer briefs. His long, thick erection pops up, nearly slapping me in the face.

The man obviously isn’t in the mood for teasing, so I open wide to cover him with my mouth. I get in five good strokes of my mouth up and down his shaft before Preston grabs me underneath my arms to lift me not only to my feet, but off the floor, taking me to his bed.

Tossing me down on the mattress, he quickly works to remove his shoes and clothes while I do the same. We’re both naked within seconds.

Preston crawls up over me, taking a second to run his fingers between my legs, then groaning at the proof of my claim when two fingers easily slide inside of me. “Jesus, Elle.”

My palms press on his shoulders, then slide down his back to his ass, needing more of him. “I told you I…enjoy it.”

Those are the last words I get to say. Preston’s mouth claims mine at the same time he enters me with one deep thrust.

Unlike the night before, he doesn’t make love to me. This time isn’t slow or sweet. It’s hard and rough. Fast and furious. His need for me is so overwhelming that it’s all that matters as he pumps in and out. Our tongues push and pull desperately. My fingernails dig into his backside with my enthusiastic encouragement. And when Preston’s thrusts speed up, chasing his release, he doesn’t forget about me. His fingers slide between our bodies, rubbing me in that perfect spot that sets me off. My mouth opens on a cry of pleasure against Preston’s. He swallows it down, then roars through his own release.

“Sorry that was…so…fast.” He apologizes with his face pressed against my neck, lips pressing open-mouthed kisses to my sweaty skin.

I run my palms up and down his damp back, wanting him to stay right where he is, buried inside of me, weight on top of me. “I didn’t mind. Sometimes fast is good. Really, really good.”

Groaning, I feel the twitch of his shaft inside of me as one of his palms cup my breast, weighing it, squeezing it. His mouth lowers to kiss it with swipes of his tongue.

“Good. Because I’m going to put you on your hands and knees, and it’ll probably be even faster.”

“You can have me anyway you want,” I assure him. “Fast, slow, soft, rough, just don’t stop.”

Preston lifts his head from my breast to cover my lips briefly. “What about the party?”

“Oh, fine,” I huff. “One more round, then we’ll go back out?”

“Deal,” he agrees. “But I want you riding me as soon as everyone leaves.”

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “There will be a lot of jiggling.”

“Hell yeah,” Preston replies. Sitting up, he pats the undersides of both my breasts. “The jiggling is my favorite part.”

He knows I’m referring to other parts of my body, but when he stares down at me like I’m the most beautiful woman in the world, it’s easy to momentarily forget those other parts.