Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
HUDSON
“I’m sure you’re all familiar with my friend Garrett here,” I say to my players when everyone finally settles in the locker room before we head out onto the ice for practice.
“He’ll be assisting for the duration of our playoff run.
Nobody give him any shit, because we’re in desperate need of his expertise. ”
Most of the boys stare at Garrett, slack-jawed and in awe.
Garrett Anders is a Stanley Cup champion, league MVP, the NHL’s Resident Bad Boy, and my best friend since college.
We played together our first three years in the league before I tore my radiator cuff for the second time.
The recovery process was long and brutal, my game suffered, and I never played the same again.
It wasn’t long before my career deteriorated right alongside me.
Garrett went on to play for another decade after me and retired just last year.
I know he’s been bored without the constant travel and consistent schedule.
He primarily resides outside Boston, where he played for the majority of his career, but without a family to tie him down, he had no problem flying out here to Washington to work with me for the remainder of the season.
We made it to the National Championship last year and won.
There were talks at the beginning of this year about our shot at a repeat appearance after Bodhi transferred schools.
I’ve been hellbent on proving, even if only to myself, that we don’t need him.
Nobody outside of Ellie, Natalia, and I know Bodhi was the other end of Candace’s affair.
I haven’t even told Garrett that much, because, to be honest, I’m still fucking humiliated by it.
What kind of man loses his wife to a twenty-one year old with a mullet?
“Alright, I know he’s pretty, but stop ogling the man and get your asses on the ice,” I bark. Garrett’s objectively handsome in a classic kind of way—tousled blonde hair, hazel eyes, clean shaven face. His boyish charm makes it damn near impossible not to be reeled in by him.
The team immediately jumps from their places, hustling out of the locker room and through the tunnel that leads to the arena. Garrett and I follow them out, and he’s practically vibrating with excitement beside me.
“I can’t wait to whip these boys into shape.”
“Alright.” I laugh. “Slow your roll. You’re just observing today. Give them a chance to get used to you. They’re going to be nervous.”
“You know what else is nerve-wracking?” he counters. “The flashing lights and screaming fans in a championship game. They better get fucking used to it.”
“I know, I know.” I scratch my beard, laughing again as we make it to the rink. “We’ll go easy on them today, and tomorrow, we’ll start laying down the…”
Words die on my tongue as we reach the edge of the ice. A fierce flash of dark hair whips past the boards in front of me, and I register “Valerie” by Amy Winehouse blasting through the arena.
Her routine for Worlds in two weeks.
Natalia shimmies as she glides across the ice, beaming so widely, it’s blinding.
She’s like a living sparkle. Circling the rink, she heads back toward me, eyes locking on mine as she skates backward, slowly extending her left leg behind her.
Just as she breezes past me, offering a quick wink, she throws herself into a lutz—a term I’ve only recently learned since spending so much time with her.
She spins twice, and my stomach hollows out, time suspended as I wait for her to land.
As always, she does it flawlessly, her right foot hitting the ice in perfect sync with the music, her limbs graceful as she drifts with effortless precision.
The music dies out as she finishes her routine, and it’s quiet for only a fraction of a second before wild clapping erupts. I realize now that a pin could’ve dropped in this arena, every person here entirely fixated on Nat’s performance—the skating team, my boys, the coaching staff.
All our heads whip toward the stands, finding Ellie about ten rows up, standing as she claps and smiles, all her focus on Natalia. Breathing heavily, still in her final pose, Nat beams right back at her.
I begin clapping too, nudging Garrett beside me, and soon enough, every player on my team follows suit. Natalia is a stunner, a showstopper; she was meant to perform. It’s a great effort to stop myself from pulling her into me and kissing her hard when she finally exits the ice.
“Sorry, Coach,” she purrs. “I didn’t mean to take up any of your ice time.”
“It’s hard to be upset when you’re performing like that, Natalia,” I say, trying my absolute fucking hardest not to cross the line of professionalism.
A gleam of sweat accents her smooth skin, reminding me of the way she looks after I’ve just finished fucking her.
“You’ll represent the university well at Worlds. ”
She nods, winking at me once more before she meets Ellie at the base of the stands. Ellie grabs her face, pulling her in for an intense kiss before whispering something against her cheek that I’m sure is a form of praise.
Unfortunately, our women’s hockey team didn’t reach the playoffs this year, and Ellie’s season is now over.
She’s been attending almost all of Natalia’s practices, skating with her in their free time too.
Ellie has been Nat’s fiercest supporter since they met, after Nat’s grandmother died their first year of college.
Nat was raised by her grandmother, the only family she’d ever known, and Ellie fell into that role of support effortlessly.
I’m envious of their ability to portray their relationship publicly, but I’d never ask them to stop. I just wish I could be part of it too—outwardly, not behind closed doors.
The backlash wouldn’t be worth it, though. I’d lose my job, Ellie’s mother would lose her mind. Plus, society is generally unaccepting of relationships like ours, and though I’d brave that for them without question, it’s not something we can even consider until they’ve both graduated.
“Hud? You ready to get started, man?”
My attention is pulled from the girls and back to Garrett, who's watching me curiously. My players have taken over the ice now that Natalia is finished.
“Yep. Ready.” I clap my hands and rub them together.
“That’s Candace’s daughter, isn’t it?” He nods toward Ellie. “The one who lives with you?”
“Yeah.” I swallow awkwardly, hoping I wasn’t too obvious.
“You didn’t tell me she was such a stunner.” He smirks. “Her girlfriend is too.”
“Fuck off, Anders,” I mutter, shoving him out onto the rink.
He only laughs in response.
***
“Do you want to hit a bar or something after this?” Garrett asks as we leave the locker room following practice and head down the back hallway to my office.
It’s secluded behind a steel door that I typically keep locked outside designated office hours.
Through it is another small waiting room with a couple of chairs, and then a double set of glass doors sit in front of my actual workspace.
During open hours, it allows me to see who’s waiting for me while also keeping a privacy barrier between them and the person sitting in front of me. The ability to lock the steel door offers me privacy when I’m not in the fucking mood to deal with anyone—which is fairly often.
“I can’t. It’s my turn to make dinner tonight, and I don’t want to leave Ellie hanging. Plus, she’s been struggling since the women’s team season ended. I don’t think she wants to be alone.”
All of that is true. It’s my turn to make dinner—well, I pretty much always make dinner.
Ellie will be at home waiting for me, and so will Nat, likely in the shower or splayed out naked on my bed.
They like to fuck before they eat, but I’m not complaining.
And the last part is true too—Ellie has been struggling lately.
She’s passionate about hockey, and it’s tough to see her season end when she doesn’t feel she was given the chance to showcase her full potential.
She’s an exceptional player on a mediocre team, but I’ve been running drills with her on my days off, and I’m hopeful we’ll be able to secure her a chance to try out for the National Team.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, and know I won’t ever judge, but…
are fucking your step-daughter?” Garrett asks, quirking a brow.
The expression I shoot back must feel threatening, because he immediately throws his hands up.
“I’m just saying…you seem more invested in her than I’d expect, and you two do live together, so… ”
“That’s ridiculous, Anders,” I scoff, feigning shock. I need to get better at hiding my emotions. “Plus, you saw. She has a girlfriend.”
He shrugs. “Thought maybe you were fucking both of them.”
I only grunt in response as we reach my office door and I slip the key into the lock.
Garrett slaps my back, laughing. “I should’ve known, though. You don’t have it in you to snag one college chick, let alone two. Especially not ones who look like—”
His words die as I push the door open, and I’m watching his face morph into shock—wide eyes, dropped jaw, a pink tint accenting his pale cheeks.
I follow his gaze and gasp as I take in what he’s seeing.
Natalia, atop my desk, completely naked.
Her legs are spread wide, pinned by Ellie’s delicate hands on her thighs, sparkly pink polish glinting in the fluorescent light.
Nat’s head is thrown back, her chest arched forward, dark nipples peaked and on display.
I can’t hear her, but her lips part in a lustful O as she grips the back of Ellie’s head and grinds her hips against it.
Ellie’s also nearly naked, wearing only silky red panties—one of my favorite pairs. Her lush ass sticks out where she sits on her knees, auburn hair flowing down her bare back, face between Natalia’s legs, lapping at her soaking pussy like her life depends on it.
This isn’t the first time I’ve walked in on them fucking in my office.
We’ve all made phenomenal use of my desk—the chair too.
Though, I thought they’d be smarter than to pull something like this when they know I have an assistant coach with me.
Unless it was intentional, because they do know Garrett is one of my closest friends and likely a trusted confidant.
Still, this was entirely too fucking risky.
“Holy fuck,” he says breathlessly.
Natalia’s eyes flutter open just enough to lock with mine. Her gaze darts to Garrett before coming back to me, and the smile she offers tells me exactly how intentional this was.
“You need to go,” I say, nudging Garrett toward the door.
“Dude. Are you serious?” he asks, astonished. “Fuck no. Let me watch too.”
I roll my eyes. “Go. I mean it. And not a fucking word, Garrett.”
His brow sinks between his eyes. “You know I’d never say shit, man, but you should’ve told me in the first place. And…” He chuffs. “Congratulations.”
“We’ll talk later.” I usher him through the doorway, and he’s still trying to peek at the girls over my shoulder. I let the door slam shut in his face before locking it once again.
Next, I’m throwing open the glass doors separating the waiting area from the rest of my office. Natalia is still watching me, playfully smirking, but Ellie pauses abruptly, backing out between Nat’s legs and batting her big, green doe eyes at me.
“Hi, Coach.” Nat smiles.
“You two are in so much fucking trouble.”
Ellie’s eyes flit to Nat, cheeks heating. The look on her face serves as confirmation of what I already knew: this was entirely Natalia’s idea.
I’m well and truly fucking angry with them. That was risky and reckless and…so fucking hot. Godammit. I’m not sure what it says about me, but I love that my friend—handsome, wealthy, famous playboy—is going home to his hand tonight, and I’m going to punish the two stunning women in front of me.
“Was this your idea, kitten?” I ask.
Nat shrugs, feigning innocence.
“Did you come?” I continue.
“Not yet,” she purrs. “Was waiting for you, Coach.”
“Mmm,” I hum. “That’s too fucking bad.” I glance down at Ellie. “Stand up, angel. It’s time for you to ride Daddy’s cock.”
Her teeth sink into her full bottom lip, cheeks flushing to that delicious pink I love to lick, before she murmurs a soft, “Yes, sir,” and begins to rise.
“I want you both to undress me, and then I want you,” I nod at Natalia, “to get on your fucking knees.”