Chapter 14 Cole
FOURTEEN
COLE
January
I’ve lost my fucking mind.
Or rather, Eve is driving me even more insane than she did before my resolve not to go there with her snapped and crumbled to dust on her birthday last weekend.
Evangeline, I should say. We’re supposed to be the fake identities she made up for us.
Except it wasn’t a pretend version I thought about while I jerked off and told her everything I wish I could’ve done to her that night.
It was all Eve—filling my head with her beautiful eyes, those perfect lush lips, her gorgeous curves.
This arrangement is a way for us to cut this new tension growing between us.
Get each other out of our systems while still keeping a line in the sand.
There hasn’t been a single moment since her birthday that I haven’t wanted to say fuck it and erase the line.
Fucking obliterate it for the chance to kiss her again.
Yesterday, she sent a photo to our DM. Her face was cropped out, but she had on this red satin bra that cupped her plump tits and hid her nipples with a ribbon tied in a bow I wanted to rip open. I had to dodge her brother’s invite to go out, more interested in telling her to touch herself.
She rewarded me with a video of her slowly tugging the bow free until she revealed what I wanted to see, leaving the ends of the ribbon dangling at the sides of the bra, tits spilling free.
Then she traced her fingertips across her cleavage while arching to tease me.
Her mouth was visible, curling into a seductive smirk as she played with her breasts.
Christ, it kills me that I can’t drive over to her place and fuck her so hard her bed breaks. This is the only way I get to have her. In person we have to act like nothing’s changed.
I shake my head to get myself on track. Refocusing on practice, I scan the ice.
The team is in good shape today. We have them split into offense and defense, then we’re moving into some new skills routines that were my suggestion.
When Eve shows up during practice a few minutes later, I can’t help but watch her from the corner of my eye.
She waves to her dad and Steve at the other end of the ice, then to a few players that call out to her as she finds a seat in the front row of the stands closer to the end I’m at with the d-men.
It’s normal for her to visit practice. So ask me why I’m thinking of every anti-boner thought in my arsenal to keep my cool?
“Brody, Higgins, you’re up,” I say from where I’m posted up at the boards.
I keep one eye on the defensive pair skating through their passing drill while drifting closer to Eve.
Today’s earrings are a pair of dangling bows, more understated than her usual flair but still her style.
The corner of my mouth lifts. The tan plaid pencil skirt and knee-high boots look good on her.
She’s giving off a hot librarian vibe and I’m into it.
She’s right here in front of me, yet I can’t touch her. In the last week we’ve been insatiable, and I have to pretend I don’t know what her body looks like or how she sounds when she comes.
“Hey.”
She glances up from drawing on her iPad and smiles at me. “Hey, you. How’s practice today?”
“Good. We’ve got some new drills to try.” I duck my face, smile stretching. “When I showed some videos of them to your dad he liked the fresh approach.”
“Look at you, Mr. Hotshot Coach.”
Something pleasant bolts through me, nearly knocking me off balance from the force. “Yeah, well. I can’t slack off, right?”
I use sarcasm to cover the hint of truth creeping beneath—that this matters a lot to me. I think she sees right through me because there’s something a little too close to understanding in her gaze.
“You look nice today,” I say.
“Thanks. I had to go down to City Hall to finish registering my business, so I wanted to look presentable.” She smooths a hand over her skirt, then plays with her necklace. “I didn’t want them to think I have no clue what I’m doing. Which I don’t. But the point is, they don’t know that.”
It’s my turn to soften with understanding. After college, somehow we’re supposed to know how life works. I haven’t got a clue half the time.
I offer her my fist. “You’ve got this.”
She bumps it, holding her knuckles against mine. “Thanks.”
We both pause, our attention drawn to where we’re touching. A spark moves through me while time stands still for a beat. Her skin is soft. Capturing her hand in mine would be easy.
I graze the back of my fingers against hers with a light caress. Her lashes flutter, then she pulls away too quickly.
“I’m proud of you for taking the next step,” I murmur.
“This totally makes it feel real,” she admits. “Now I just have to launch my online store.”
“You’ve got this. I’ll be first in line.” I point at her water thermos covered in stickers she’s made. “I need to get some Knights rep.”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that. I can just give you a sticker pack if you want.”
I pin her with a sardonic look. “Then how am I going to support you?”
“Cole,” she mumbles.
“Eve,” I tease.
“Okay, okay. You win. I appreciate your support.”
I smirk, watching the players on the ice. She’s quiet for a moment.
My phone notification goes off with a new message. I don’t answer right away. Not until she catches my eye and tilts her face with a deliberate expression that says well?
I’m not expecting what I see when I open our Love Struck DM thread. I almost drop my damn phone reading it.
CraftyCutie: Bet I’d look nicer naked and spread out for you like a five course feast.
“Eve,” I mutter.
“What?”
That innocent tone draws a smoky chuckle from me. She’s not fooling me with that act. What I would give to throw her over my shoulder right now and drag her sexy ass out of here.
“I need to get back to work. With your dad, remember?”
She gestures to the opposite end of the rink. “He’s all the way over there.”
“Funny, it feels like he’s breathing down my neck when you send me messages like that,” I whisper. “I’ve gotta get back to practice.”
She holds her hands up. “I’ll be here, working on this illustration.”
“Behave.”
As I walk away, she texts me again. I swipe my tongue across my lower lip and tap out a quick response.
CraftyCutie: Make me.
MightyPuck: I deal with hockey players all day. Handling a brat to keep her in line isn’t a problem.
Her breathy laughter follows me every step until I’m rinkside. She continues messaging me.
CraftyCutie: I like it when you get bossy.
By some miracle, I manage to read it with a straight face.
CraftyCutie: I think you should tie my wrists with that whistle and put me on my knees, Coach Bossy.
This time I risk glancing at her. She waves with a mischievous grin that makes me want her hair wrapped around my fist and those lush red lips around my cock.
I whip the green Heston U Hockey hat off my head and rake my fingers through my hair a few times before jamming it back on.
She goes silent for a while. I start to relax and focus on practice while she’s preoccupied with her design.
Then the vibration of my phone sends a shot of heat right to my dick before I even read the notification.
CraftyCutie: Last night I had a dream about you making me sit on your face. It was so hot that I woke up with my pussy throbbing. I fucked myself with one of my toys in the shower while I fantasized about riding your cock. Want to see a picture of it later?
I choke back a groan. Who knew the head coach’s daughter could be so naughty?
One of the junior d-men gives me a funny look when he’s done squirting water in his mouth. I clear my throat and nod to him.
Shit, I’m supposed to be working. Coaching this team rather than playing filthy texting tag with her.
If that’s how she wants to play this while she sits in the stands to watch practice, I’m upping the ante.
MightyPuck: Be my good girl. Go take your panties off.
An electrifying thrill surges through my veins when she gets up a minute later. I track her, heartbeat drumming in time to her measured steps. It’s not my imagination that she sways her hips because she glances over her shoulder, gaze colliding with mine. She smirks.
Blood rushes south. Fuck.
I want to follow her. Watch her while she takes them off.
Kiss her again. Fuck her senseless somewhere in this training facility to show her how crazy she’s making me.
I exhale forcefully. I need to get a grip before I do something stupid, like give us away.
Once the guys wrap up their drills, we call them to center ice. I put my skates on and pair up with Steve to go over the next maneuver we’re working on. I borrow Easton’s stick and drop a puck to the ice.
“Watch as I move through this. I’m coming in.” I skate toward Steve with the puck. “Then I’m keeping control before he reacts.”
I finish off by passing the puck under his stick and pick it up as I skate past him.
I’m in the middle of explaining the evasive entry skills we’re aiming to improve when Eve returns to her seat. A moment later, she types something out on her phone. Mine buzzes in my back pocket while I go through the demonstration with Steve.
We shouldn’t be playing this secret game while I’m at work, but there’s something exhilarating about sneaking around with her.
I return Easton’s stick. “Got it?”
He’s got an intrigued gleam in his eye. The rookie loves techniques like this, and with his speed he’ll level up his game once he gets it. Our lightning quick wingers, Alex and Theo, too.
I move off the ice to watch how they do. After I’ve seen a few of them run through it successfully, I check my phone.
CraftyCutie: Brrr [kitty emoji][snowflake emoji]
MightyPuck: Did you do it?
CraftyCutie: You’ll see.
MightyPuck: I will?
CraftyCutie: Now I’ll be cold, so I hope you’ll warm me up.
I can hear her giggle behind me in the stands.
My grip tightens on my phone. I put it down on the boards and cross my arms tight enough my shoulders strain to keep myself from seeking her out.
I give a short blow with my whistle, waving Alex and Jake over to me. They hustle over from the line.
“What’s up, coach?” Alex asks when he scrapes to a stop.
“I want you to run it again together this time. Brody, look for ways to control the puck so you recognize how to counter it during a game. Keller, keep it up. See if you can do it faster and cleaner.”
They agree and high five. My phone lights up on the boards at my elbow. Alex reaches for it. I grab it before one of them reads the message on the screen. I level them each with a pointed look.
“Stay dialed in during practice.”
They linger for a quick drink break. While they’re distracted, I check what Eve sent to our DM.
I inhale sharply, fist pressed to my mouth at the photo. A sheer red mesh thong with a heart pattern dangles from her hooked finger. She’s sitting with her legs crossed on a surface I recognize—the fucking desk in my office.
CraftyCutie: Hid these somewhere for you to find. Have fun on your treasure hunt.
Anyone could’ve caught her in there. Where did she hide her panties? Did she touch herself while perched on my desk?
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
My mind goes wild with the idea of her spreading her legs, pencil skirt hiked up around her hips, making a goddamn mess all over it as she makes herself come with her fingers while I’m out here. Will I catch a hint of strawberries and vanilla when I go in after practice?
Alex raises his brow and smirks. I stiffen, realizing I must’ve made a tormented noise.
“You good, coach?”
Schooling my features, I point at the ice. “Get back to practice.”
I overhear Jake suggesting too loudly that he thinks I got a booty call on their way to the back of the line for skills practice.
It takes all my self control not to look Eve’s way.