Pucking Revenge : A Fake dating, friends to lovers, hockey romance (The Revenge Games Book 2)
Pucking Revenge : Chapter 36

“SOMEONE’S IN A GOOD MOOD.” War saunters into the locker room, his attitude cocky and annoying as hell.

“Oh, didn’t you hear?” McGreevey tees it up.

Rowan, the asshole, joins in. “Our goalie is finally getting some.”

I look from one guy to another, being sure to glare at them all.

War shakes his head. “Nah, that’s not it.”

Propped up against my locker, I fold my arms and roll my eyes. “Out with it already.”

War smiles and shakes his phone back and forth in front of him. “It’s because he’s now Sara’s boyfriend.”

Aiden swipes the device from him and studies my Instagram profile. I updated it last night while lying in bed with Sara. Did it to make her smile after a couple of asshole trolls commented on the Bolts’ page about her being a flavor of the week.

First, I’m not like that, so it made no sense, and second, I want to make sure the world knows that I was the one who posted that photo to the Bolts’ official page, not Sara.

I edited my bio and listed my status as her boyfriend, replacing what used to say starting goalie for the Boston Bolts. Then I forced her to airdrop the photo of me kissing her cheek and uploaded it with a caption that read Instagram Official.

The smile she wore makes all the ribbing I’ll get worth it. We spent three days just hanging out. She’d go to work, and I’d go to practice, then we’d order food or make dinner together.

Inevitably we’d end up back in bed, naked and exploring one another, but we haven’t taken things any further than we did in the announcer’s booth. I’m in no rush. If I have my way, we’ll have plenty of time for everything, and I want to savor each step.

My little brother nudges me. “Proud of you.” For all of Aiden’s bullshit, the kid loves love. He deserves it more than anyone too.

“Thanks. Now will you sing so they get off my back?”

With a laugh, he jumps up onto the bench, and after one deep breath in, starts his own rendition of the theme song from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

“Men, I’d like to tell you a story all about how

The Bolts gonna turn this season around

It involves number thirteen

Standing right there

And the woman he calls Pumpkin that the rest of us call Sar…”

All around, the guys are hooting and hollering. A deep sense of satisfaction washes over me as I watch my little brother entertain us all.

He just might be right. I have a feeling tonight is the beginning of our comeback.

The chanting inside the arena as we make our way down the tunnel is louder than normal, more electric. Even the fans know tonight is gonna be our night.

I stayed at Sara’s last night, so it’s only been hours since I last saw her, yet as I hit the ice for warm-ups and I eagerly search the stands for her, my heart is thumping against my sternum. War skates up on my left and nudges me. Then he uses his stick to point toward the players’ bench. There, in my jersey, is my girlfriend. But she’s made one drastic change since I left her this morning.

“Fuck. Did she dye her hair blue?” War heaves a laugh.

I’m already skating toward her, with him on my heels. She’s wearing the damn Brooks’s Bunny beanie she loves so much, and beneath it, her hair is Smurf blue.

Before I can get to the boards, Coach is hollering at me. I tune him out and point my hockey stick at Sara. Then I drop to the ice to start my hundred. War circles me once and darts over to the bench. A minute later, he’s depositing Sara on my back.

This might as well be an official part of the Bolts’ warm-ups from here on out. Fans eat it up, and Gavin is all about it. Seb can fuck himself if he thinks this will stop anytime soon.

Once Sara settles on my back, the crowd starts counting. Her bright smile lights up the arena from every screen in the place. From here, even I can see her. I keep my focus fixed on her gorgeous face as I go, and I don’t even feel the burn as I push up and down.

War helps her off as soon as I hit one hundred, then I haul myself up, snagging my stick on the way.

“What’d you do, crazy girl?”

She toys with the tips and tilts her head. “Like it?”

“As if you could possibly look anything but gorgeous.” I brush a thumb over her cheek.

“Sebastian lost his mind when he saw it,” she says with a conspiratorial giggle. “We’re wearing him down, Saint.”

All I can do is laugh. I’m not sure her hair color is going to push Seb to quit, but I do enjoy the enthusiasm.

“And now my hair matches your bedazzled penises!”

Beside me, War grunts and almost loses his balance. He rights himself, drops his stick, and puts his hands on his waist. “Dude, you said you’d never tell!”

Sara slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes blowing wide.

“Fuck, crazy girl. Go watch the game before you cause more trouble.”

“Good luck, Brookie⁠—”

“Sara,” I growl.

She grasps my jersey and pops up on her toes. With my skates on, I tower over her, so I bend at the knees until we’re face to face.

“Be a good boy,” she murmurs, her voice pure sex. “Bring me back to the boards, and I’ll ride your face tonight.”

I snap my mouth shut and stand to my full height. With one brow cocked, she smiles, waiting for me to lift her up. The girl knows how to get what she wants, all right.

The game isn’t even close. Aiden, Daniel, and War run circles around Atlanta, and when the buzzer sounds, the arena is chanting Saint, Saint, Saint, because in the final seconds of the game, I landed in a split to block the puck, officially earning us the shutout.

The guys skate around me, slapping my back and jumping on me, and soon the chants turn to Sara, Sara, Sara.

When my teammates scatter, Aiden is in the middle of the ice. He breaks out into his rendition of the Fresh Prince theme song. This time it’s about the win and the girl I can’t wait to kiss.

We head back to the locker room to shower and change, a little rowdier than we have been in the last couple of weeks, knowing the press should be kind to us tonight.

McGreevey pats me on the back. “Keep playing like this, and we’ll all be getting down on one knee and begging Sara to marry you.”

Beside me, War practically chokes on his own saliva.

I only smile. The idea isn’t half bad.

“Holy shit,” he whispers when I don’t reply to McGreevey. “Does she know?”

I toss my helmet onto the bench and get to work on my skates. “Know what?”

“That you’re so fucking gone for her? Brooks, a week ago, you weren’t sure if she had any real feelings for you. Now you’re thinking about proposing?”

“You’re proposing to Sara?” Aiden’s voice is too fucking loud.

I shoot up straight and glare at him. “I’m not fucking proposing. You”—I point at War—“shut it. And you”—I point at Aiden—“let it go. We just started dating. I’m happy. Let me just be happy and leave it at that.”

Aiden shrugs and disappears into the showers, but War’s watching me with a frown. “We’re going to Carolina next week.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Is she going to introduce you to her family?”

My heart sinks, because she hasn’t mentioned it. Sara is an open book in every respect, except when it comes to her family. I know she has a much younger brother, and I know she talks to him and her mom pretty regularly, but she’s tight lipped any time I bring them up.

My family is part of almost every facet of my life. I couldn’t hide them if I tried.

“Don’t be a dick.” I shuck off my compression shorts and head for the showers.

“I can’t believe you told her about our piercings, man,” War huffs. “Thought that was a sacred moment.”

I cough out a laugh. “Sacred moment?”

“Yeah, I offered to hold your dick and everything.”

“You guys are fucking weird.” McGreevey gives us a dark look when we step into the showers.

I avoid looking at any of my teammates. Showering with a group of men isn’t uncomfortable. I’ve been doing it since peewee hockey. Even so, we don’t hang around and chat while our dicks are hanging out. It’s more like get in and get the fuck out.

For everyone except War, apparently. “He told Sar about our matching dicks.”

I snort as a slew of Sara’s nicknames for them come to mind. And now I’m picturing Lisa Frank dicks.

Stop thinking of your teammates’ dicks.

Pink swirls. Purple jewels. Fuck, I can’t unsee it now.

“We should all get matching ones,” Hall says, holding his cock like it’s his most prized possession. Maybe it is. The kid is hung. I’ll give him that. Easily the biggest here. That was a bit of a surprise, considering that he’s about average size for a pro hockey player. Several of us have inches and muscle on him. Maybe that’s why he’s such a cocky son of a bitch. He’s still new to the NHL and obsessed with hooking up with every puck bunny he meets.

“You wouldn’t survive the healing process,” I mutter.

War snorts. “I bet he can’t go two nights without a bunny, let alone two months.”

Hall humphs. God, he’s such a kid. “Fuck you. You calling me a whore?”

“You got your nickname somewhere, Playboy,” War taunts.

“It’s because I make the plays, dipshit.”

“Mm-hmm. Whatever you tell yourself so you can sleep at night.” War always has to have the last line.

“How about you all shower without playing with your dicks?” McGreevey pleads.

That’s a solid plan. I finish up, then head back to my locker to get dressed, smiling the whole way. Today’s been a great fucking day.

The second we step foot into Sara’s apartment, she practically drags me to her bedroom, her blue hair bouncing and her ass swaying seductively as she goes.

I don’t know what’s gotten into her, but the elevator doors were barely shut when she dropped to her knees. I had to yank her up before she could get my belt undone. There is at least one camera in that stainless-steel box because Gavin is a control freak who keeps tabs on all his players.

Before we’ve even hit her bedroom door, her jersey flies through the air, followed by her bra. When she spins around, her nipples peach and pebbled, and tweaks one while moaning my name, my cock strains painfully against my pants.

“God, is it bad that I love this contrast? You in a suit while I’m completely naked?”

I bite down on my fist and swallow a groan. She’s absolute fucking perfection. “No, crazy girl. Pretty sure you naked is my personal heaven. I literally don’t know where to start.”

Her blue eyes dance, and her lips turn up in one of her mischievous smirks. That look means she’s got plans for me. Fuck, I can’t wait to replace out what they are.

“I want you to sit right there and tell me what to do.” Her voice is breathy, like she’s already worked up just thinking of all the possibilities I could come up with.

“And I can’t touch you?” I rasp, palming my dick over my pants and squeezing for a little relief.

She grazes her nipples with her fingers, her breasts hanging heavy, and heaves in a breath. “Not yet,” she taunts. “You have to make me come first.”

“That’s my favorite thing in the world, Sar. Now you’re just spoiling me.”

She licks her lips and rubs her thighs together. “Be a good boy and sit down.”

“Thought I was in charge?” I challenge her, though I do as she says, because being Sara’s good boy is a high for me. I love pleasing her.

I drop to the bench in the corner of her room. It’s one of those ornate pieces with a fancy French name my sister would no doubt know. Legs spread wide, I lean back, keeping my focus firmly fixed on the knockout in front of me. Her bare ass taunts me as she wanders into the bathroom. When she reappears, she’s holding a small pink object.

“Edge of the bed,” I command.

Her eyes flash with excitement, and a visible shudder works its way through her.

“Spread your legs and let me see how wet you are.”

Without hesitation, she plops onto the bed and spreads herself wide. “Now what?” Her tone is so fucking seductive, her words oozing sex.

“Show me what you have to play with.”

I unbutton my jacket and slide it off, then unbutton the cuffs of my shirt.

Sara holds up what looks like a rosebud. “It’s for my clit. Think you can get me off quicker with your tongue?”

My responding laugh is like sandpaper. “Crazy girl, toys aren’t competition. I’m going to use that to get you all worked up, and then I’m going to lap up every last drop of your orgasm.”

“God, that’s hot.” She writhes on the bed, gripping the comforter with her free hand.

I undo the top button of my shirt and take in a deep breath. Then I work the rest of the buttons until my shirt hangs open. “Slide the flower against your pussy, baby. But don’t you dare turn it on.” I shuck my shirt and drape it over the end of the bench, then get to work on my zipper. I pull my cock out just as Sara arches into her toy, seeking satisfaction she’ll never get from a silicone object.

“Look at you, worked up and desperate.” I stroke my shaft and give it a firm tug. “Not nearly as fucking desperate as I am, though.”

She moans as she rubs the pink toy against herself. “Please, Brooks.”

“Turn it on, crazy girl. Let me see what my supposed competition does.”

She holds the toy above her and presses a button. When she sets it against her clit, she practically bows off the bed. My body arches forward of its own accord. I can’t stay seated any longer. I’m too far away from her, and my need to watch exactly what’s happening is too great.

My pants fall to my ankles when I stand. I kick them off in a hurry, then settle myself beside her. When she cries out, I slide my palm over her mouth, silencing her.

Blue eyes grow wide as she stares up at me.

“These sounds are only for me. Your orgasm is mine. He doesn’t get to hear it.”

I’m over the games. I’m over sharing any part of her. And I need to know that she is too. I need to know this is about me. About us. That she’s truly over whatever they had.

Her eyes go hazy with lust, and she writhes again.

I lift my hand and take in every feature of her beautiful face.

“Then you better stuff my mouth with something to shut me up, Saint, because when you’re looking at me like that, with that massive cock in your hand, I can’t be quiet.”

Her taunts work. I laugh, feeling lighter knowing this isn’t about him at all.

I slide up the bed and press the head of my dick against her lips. “This work?”

With a sweet smile, she kisses the crown. Then she circles her tongue around it, making me grit my teeth. “Not sure, but it’s worth a try.”

“Give me that toy,” I demand.

She waggles her brows. “Get it yourself.”

With a grunt, I haul myself over her and straddle her head.

She practically squeals, and with a squeeze of my ass, she sucks me into her mouth. And then when I fuck her face while devouring her pussy, only I hear her screams as she shatters beneath me.