Puck my Prey (Jericho Chimeras Hockey Romance #2)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

HEATH

“Not a single one of you deserve to wear the Jericho Chimera jersey after last night’s debacle.”

Ballbuster extraordinaire Cora Brooks stood at the player's bench halfway through practice after a truly shitty morning and laid down the law on her first day back at the Chimeras after a hiatus since our last major fuck up.

Or maybe she thought she did.

Half of my teammates ogled her thoughtfully. The other half were probably still drunk after last night’s clusterfuck. Not that I blamed them.

Cap stood with his arms crossed, gripping his stick like he wanted to ram it down her throat, sending subliminal messages to Coach who stood slightly behind the curvy goddess in the power suit who should never have been anywhere near the ice.

And me?

I watched the woman the club called to intervene when the media storm grew too hot. I knew why. It was either they called her in to fix the mess that we didn’t, or someone—likely several someones—got sacked.

And that wasn’t happening on my watch. Not after last night.

Cora paced the player’s bench like it was her own personal sand box. She had no idea she was so far out of her depth, but it would be fun to watch her flounder. We weren't like any version of the team that she’d attempted to manage before, nor were we the regular misfit players.

“This room is full of grown men who behave like toddlers. Every one of your faces are all over mainstream media rags after last night, and a few minor channels. Not one of you,” —she glared at every face who dared snicker at her outburst. Exactly who was the toddler here?

— “Will be playing on the weekend if we don’t fix this by Thursday.

That gives you,” —she made a second fake ass show of checking her fancy watch— “exactly five days to get your housekeeping in order. Be squeaky clean. Apologies all round. Fix that poor woman’s reputation and each of your own or you will not have a fucking job come Friday. Am I clear?”

The resounding silence that boomed across the ice crackled with its failure to answer her.

If this woman expected any of us to bounce back with a chorus of ‘yes, ma’ams’, she was shit out of luck.

Hell, she’d just threatened the best thing anyone of us had worked for—and we had each worked our asses off for the positions we held on the team—that took us years to get here. What reaction did she expect?

Beside me, Shannon Incarson reached back and scratched his ass. “So, we’re good to keep training, then?” he asked politely.

I smirked. He couldn’t have given a better fuck you to the little lady in the power pants suit the color of pristine ice that settled over the luscious curves and glimpses of honey tanned skin.

Skin I'd love to see more of, though under different conditions, maybe.

See how she took to submission and what relinquishing control over doling it out looked like on her.

That was always my favorite game, had been for years. Working out which of the women who loved to cling tightest to their control out of pure desperation would be the hardest to give it up but the most fucking stunning when they did.

Cora Brooks, with her severe bun, white blonde hair tightly tucked back behind her ears in a perfect knot, glaring at us through black rimmed glasses, her make up perfect…She was my top candidate for the sort of woman who would never want to relinquish control.

No more than I’d ever give up my position on the Jericho Chimeras team. That took me four years to earn, training every damn day just to get myself noticed by scouts all the way through high school.

The woman before me would be the perfect submissive, and she’d fight every inch of the way. It would be hell, and she would be beautiful.

Huh. Pity that would never happen. Pity she was here to fuck with my team. We could have had so much fun.

Before Shannon could open his smart ass mouth and say something else to piss her off, I broke rank, skating backwards. Cora’s eyes locked onto me. Her pretty little mouth opened—to rip me a new one, call me off the ice, I didn’t much care—but it was Coach who called me back.

“Valentine. Rein it in.” Unlike her temper tantrum before, his voice whiplashed across the ice, catching me at chest height.

I let my stick dance with the puck a moment longer, and took a clean, unobstructed shot at the goal.

A blind shot, because the goal was behind me, and I kept my eyes locked on her the entire time as it sailed neatly into the net. The score ticked over on the board in my periphery.

“Yes, sir.” I kept my tone respectful, and finally flicked my gaze to Coach.

His eyes narrowed at my show ponying. I’d pay for that little stunt later.

“Stay on the ice. I got a few words for you. Hux, you too, son. The rest of you, follow Miss Brooks into the main office for a full debriefing on your media habits for this week. It’ll be a change up and I expect you to treat her like you treat me. ”

A second round of silence whispered across the ice, its significance lost on the stranger in our midst.

Cap knew better than to open his mouth, though my lips curled up in a derisive smile as the team followed Miss Cora Brooks off the ice.

I waited until she was the last of the line filing away from the bench, and spoke to her poker straight back.

The ones in control are always the ones with the most scars on the inside.

Hell, I couldn't wait to discover hers. We were playing a game, even if she didn’t know we’d started yet.

“Enjoy your podium, Miss Brooks,” I murmured to the emptying stadium.

Ward Bishop, the Chimera’s coach, muttered curses to the ice as he took up position behind me, no doubt ready to rip me a new one the moment her perfectly curved tush vacated the ice. The one person who shouldn’t be there who I aimed my comments directly at offered me no reaction whatsoever.

Yep, Cora Brooks reined in that control so tight I was surprised she didn’t snap on the spot. Maybe that was why she had a hissy fit the moment she stepped up earlier. Or maybe her little tantrum had nothing to do with my team’s apparent shenanigans whatsoever.

Damn, we were gonna have so much fun together.

I wondered which one of us would break first, and if she’d enjoy kneeling for me…

Or if I would be the one on my knees for her.

“Wake up, Valentine,” Coach snapped as he skated circles around Cap and me a dozen breaths later once we were sure that we were alone on the ice once more.

“If the two of you don’t pull your heads out of your asses, it will be your jobs that Cora Brooks calls for first. You, because it’s your responsibility to talk sense into the assholes who just followed her with their tails tucked—” Coach glared at Hux like the star of our team was Cap’s personal fault.

“And you—” His slate gray glare landed on me, “—You, since Hux was home in bed with his woman, you, Valentine, are going to tell me what in the hell happened with that woman last night that has the media with their panties in a twist. Because, what, you all wanted to dabble in a little group sex? Indulged in a party night before four a.m. training? Those rags are all full of shit and we both know it. I don’t need to read the cheap tabloid she brought in to know that.

And I know that, because you wouldn't let them do anything half as stupid on your watch, would you?

Right?" His voice cracked around the empty rink, tinged with the faintest edge of desperation.

Coach got right up in my face, which was saying something for a man at least fifteen years older than me and nearly a foot shorter, though Ward Bishop was no slouch.

I was just a big, Black giant, which was why, while Solace Hunter was off with an injury from two games back, Coach put me in as stand in goalie.

Apparently, that position came with a side service for team protectors. The trust he threw at them was made for damn broad shoulders. Solace wore that mantle just fine, but those were some big skates to fill.

I stared at Coach down, and refused to flinch.

“No, I won’t let them flounder on my watch,” I said quietly, my arms folded across my chest.

“Good. I didn’t fucking think so,” the man before me huffed, though he deflated somewhat when I didn’t arc up at him as he obviously expected.

“Then what the hell happened?” Hux glided across the ice to pick up the collection of papers Cora left behind. “This doesn’t say much apart from the fact that half the team was drunk last night." He shot me a pointed look.

“Yeah, they got drunk,” I acknowledged. “It was meant to be Solace’s buck’s party, remember?

He was getting married, and then the knee injury took him out.

” I shrugged, because let’s face it—without that injury I’d probably still be warming myself a place on the Reserve squad bench with the rest of the hopefuls.

“And what, they couldn’t wait for a few more nights, or his actual event?” Coach looked disgusted.

Even though I agreed with the sentiment, I kept my face carefully blank. Hux watched me thoughtfully from a distance, tapping the tabloids against his thigh.

“Maybe not,” I finally conceded.

The coach blew out a breath through whitened lips. “Is that all I’m going to get from the pair of you?”

Silence met his question.

Closing ranks on the man who handpicked me from utter obscurity and the nobody who’s nobody list of the year might not be my smartest choice. Last night we made a decision as a team. I refused to be the one to not meet that mark two weeks into playing for my dream squad.

The coach exhaled a long breath slowly. “Fine, Valentine. You heard the lady. Don’t give her a reason to name you on her shit list. And you’d better have answers for her when she pulls you into my damn office later today. Because she will.”

“For answers or because she’s taken up residence in your office?” I kept my voice low, but we all heard the question that I didn't bother to hide.

Coach skated away from me, the tension in his shoulders telling its own story.

I mentally added his weight to my protector’s list. What was the point in shouldering the team weight if I couldn't return the favor for the man who lifted me out of development squad hell? The man gave up authority over the team, albeit grudgingly, for the next few days, as well as his office.

Maybe it was time that I went and saw Miss Cora Brooks ahead of schedule. Just to see if I could help out the woman I fully intended to torment a little before I broke her.

I hoped Coach wasn’t too attached to his desk.