The Pucking Wrong Date: A Hockey Romance (The Pucking Wrong Series Book 3)
Chapter 21

I hadn’t been this nervous since my rookie season.

That was a fact.

The Dallas Knights logo loomed large before me on the wall, somehow looking way more intimidating than a Cobra.

Despite the fact that I was nervous as fuck, there was a sense of rightness in the air.

This was where I belonged.

“As I live and breathe,” Ari announced in an exaggerated southern accent the second I’d stepped into the locker room. “Is that Walker Davis?”

“I literally just saw you yesterday for tacos,” I said with a raised eyebrow.

Ari’s gaze flicked from me to Lincoln, who was getting dressed.

“Don’t do it,” Lincoln muttered, already shaking his head.

“Seriously don’t,” I pleaded as I set my stuff down in front of a locker with a shiny new nameplate above it.

“That’s what she said,” Ari burst out, while everyone in the locker room groaned.

Lincoln snapped him with his towel. “It’s your first fucking day of practice.”

Ari crossed his arms and leaned against the wall behind him. “I like to think of last season as an extended vacation,” he drawled. “It’s like I never left.”

I began to get dressed, still nervous, my gaze darting around the locker room to all the faces. Most of them were familiar from playing against each other in the league, but I didn’t know everyone. Plus, despite the fact that you would have thought I would be desensitized about playing on the same team with Lincoln, I was very much freaking the fuck out.

“I’m in the building,” a voice announced, and I glanced over with one eyebrow raised to see one of the new rookies, Logan York, strutting his way into the locker room.

“Lord, spare me,” a voice said from next to me, and I glanced over to see Camden James, also a new addition to the team, settling onto the bench next to me.

“You mean you didn’t think you were God’s gift to hockey when you first started, James?” Lincoln said sarcastically, shooting Logan an annoyed look that the guy must not have noticed…because I would have been shitting myself if he’d stared at me like that.

“He probably doesn’t remember that far back. You’ve been in the League for what, a million years?” Logan said, coming to sit on the other side of Camden.

Camden scoffed and rolled his eyes so far back in his head, I was a little amazed.

Logan lifted off his shirt to change, revealing the fact that every inch of exposed skin seemed to be covered in ink, the intricate designs weaving their way across his arms and creeping up his neck. And he had…I blinked, my eyes catching on the fact that he had piercings in both nipples.

“Is there anywhere you don’t have ink?” Ari asked, the question we probably all had on our minds.

Logan winked, a smirk creeping on his lips. And then his gaze shot to Lincoln. “I’m saving my dick.”

Ari and I cracked up, but Lincoln looked decidedly less amused.

“I don’t get it,” Camden whispered to me, staring at Ari as he cackled.

“Oh…you haven’t heard, Hero? Lincoln Daniels here has his girl’s name tattooed on his dick,” Logan drawled.

Lincoln huffed, a small smile on his lips that looked a little psycho, like he was already imagining Logan’s punishment.

“Real men have dick tattoos, York. You’d do well to remember that,” drawled Camden, of course getting all of our attention.

“Well, well, well…this is going to be an interesting year,” Ari snorted, his gaze bouncing all over the room. “They’ll probably want us to make some kind of calendar or something. A ‘12 Months of Decorated Dicks’ kind of motif.”

I shifted in my seat grumpily, thinking about the fact that Olivia had thought I had a fucking STD thanks to my “decorated dick.” A tattoo would have been much better.

I glanced up and Ari was smirking at me. “You’re like a true ‘Swiftie’ with yours, Disney,” he whispered, and Lincoln snorted, shaking his head again, because sometimes…that’s all you could do with Ari Lancaster.

“Is your nickname, ‘Hero’, or is Logan trying to be funny?” Lincoln asked as he began to put on his skates.

Logan grinned, answering before Camden could. “Oh it’s ‘Hero’ alright. He once jumped off the ice in the middle of a game because he’d passed a fan who was choking. Gave her CPR and everything.” He cocked his head mischievously. “She was really hot, so maybe it wasn’t entirely selfless though, was it, James?”

Camden’s cheeks were red.

“Oh my gosh. You totally fucked her after that,” snorted Ari, staring at Camden with a little awe.

Camden stood up from the bench. “She was really hot and wanted to show her appreciation. Who was I to say no?” He turned to Logan who was grinning from ear to ear. “But also, how do you even know about that?”

“I was at that game sitting in the stands, old man. Saw the whole thing.”

There was a moment of silence and then everyone in the locker room burst into hysterics.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh at the old guy,” growled Camden, flipping us all off.

“Stop fucking around and get on the ice,” one of the coaches growled from the doorway, and I snapped to attention, freaking out a little because I wanted to make a good first impression.

“Relax, Walker,” murmured Lincoln, clapping a hand on my shoulder as we walked down the tunnel that led out onto the ice. I nodded, not sure why I felt fucking sick all of a sudden.

“How’s ‘Operation Become a Disney Dad’?” Ari whisper-yelled as we got onto the ice, causing me to trip and almost bite it.

“Thank you for that,” I hissed as I skated to where the coaches and players were gathering at center ice.

“Well?” Lincoln asked, a smirk on his face.

“It’s in operation,” I said vaguely.

“Wait! You’re actually doing it?” Ari’s face was complete shock.

I stared at him, bemused. “Of course.”

Lincoln clapped me on the back with a confusing chuckle, but evidently I’d pushed Ari over the edge.

“I thought you were kidding. I thought it was a joke,” he said, skating next to me.

I raised an eyebrow. “Ahh. You must have been distracted by the queso that night. Or the tequila shots. Or somehow convincing me to get a fucking dick piercing—Yep, it was probably that.”

Ari’s gaze darted between Lincoln and I. “Golden Boy, you are a bad, bad influence. I blame you for warping poor Disney’s mind.”

“Who’s warping Disney’s mind?” asked Camden as he skated up behind us.

“One second, Hero. This is a meeting between the ‘Circle of Trust.’ Inner circle members only,” Ari said belligerently, holding up a hand.

Camden cocked his head. “What the hell is the ‘Circle of Trust’?”

Before Ari could answer, Coach Porter cleared his throat, and I ignored Ari’s mutterings, my ginormous contract feeling like a million pound weight on my head.

‘Alright, Knights, listen up,’ he began, his voice echoing across the rink. ‘Today marks the beginning of a new journey—a new journey filled with a lot of new faces. There’s going to be growing pains, challenges, triumphs, and everything else in between. But make no mistake, gentlemen, we…are here to win.’

“Fuck yeah we are!” yelled Logan, and Coach smirked.

‘You’ve put in the work. You’re the best of the best or you wouldn’t be a Dallas Knight.” His gaze hovered on me for a second like he could see my current headspace. “Now it’s time to show the world what we’re made of.’ He held up a finger. ‘Success is not given, it’s earned. It’s earned through hard work, dedication, and unwavering commitment to the game. So let’s show those motherfuckers this season what Dallas Knights are made of!’

Lincoln immediately started up a Knights! chant, and we huddled together before breaking to begin practice.

As practice started, I settled into my position between the pipes, the weight of my goalie pads providing a sense of comfort and familiarity. The sound of pucks clacking against the boards and the rhythmic thud of skates on ice surrounded me, grounding me in the moment.

This wasn’t so different. I could do this shit.

As the forwards and defensemen began their drills, I focused on warming up, stretching my muscles, and loosening up my joints. The first few shots that came my way were routine, easily deflected with a quick flick of my glove or a swift kick of my leg pads.

“Atta boy, Walker,” Lincoln said as he skated behind the net.

I really needed to examine this praise-kink thing. Olivia giving me a few “atta boys” might be the death of me judging by my reaction anytime Lincoln Daniels said…well, anything.

Practice progressed, and I got my ass kicked in a rapid-fire shooting drill that consisted of half the team sending a barrage of shots at me from all directions.

I’d just begun to replace my rhythm when Coach decided on a series of breakaway drills that required me to face off against the forwards one on one.

I braced myself as Lincoln charged towards me, the puck dancing on the blade of his stick as he closed the distance between us. His movements were fluid and calculated, each stride carrying him closer to the net with purpose and precision.

As he reached the hash marks, he unleashed a lightning-quick deke, shifting the puck from side to side in an attempt to throw me off balance. Instinctively, I tracked his movements, my eyes locked on the puck as I anticipated his next move.

He burst forward, attempting to slide the puck between my legs and into the net. I dropped into a split, my pads closing off the five-hole just in time to deny his shot.

The puck ricocheted off my pads with a satisfying thud, sending it flying harmlessly into the corner of the rink.

“Fuck,” Lincoln muttered, tipping his head at me.

“Walker ‘Disney’ Davis you are a mother fucking wall,” yelled Ari as he skated by.

I grinned.

“Why does he look so happy about blocking Lincoln’s shot? He’s stopped like five of mine,” Logan complained.

“Have you met Disney? He’d eat Golden Boy’s lunch leftovers if he’d let him,” announced Ari.

“You sound jealous, Lancaster,” Logan drawled, ducking at the puck Ari shot at him.

The whistle blew and we skated to the bench for a break. I glanced at the clock. It had been two hours. I wondered what Olivia was doing.

I watched as Lincoln slipped his phone out from under a towel and Monroe popped up on the screen.

‘What?” he asked without looking at me. “You think I’m going to go hours without checking up on her? That’s a rookie mistake, Walk. A rookie…mistake.”

Note to self, hide my phone next practice so I could stalk Olivia during breaks. Wouldn’t want to be a rookie.

“Oh, shoot, let me help you with that,” said Camden from nearby. I glanced over to see him awkwardly trying to pick up towels that a female employee had dropped. Ari snorted as Camden almost fell over as he grabbed one.

“I’m getting it now,” he mused. “I’m definitely seeing the ‘Hero’ nickname.”

“Right?” Logan said, crossing his arms and cocking his head as he stared at the girl giving moon eyes to Camden for his help. “It’s very, very effective with the ladies, though. The amount of ass that guy gets is legendary.”

Camden waved at the girl, looking nothing but polite, and then turned and hopped back onto the ice.

“Note to self, Camden James is not allowed near my lady,” Ari said breezily, playing with a puck as we started back with practice.

I made a mental note as well. You know…just in case.

I was dead tired, but eager to get back to Olivia. She’d been staying at my house while she worked to replace a place. Usually Jolette would have arranged all her housing accommodations, but since the whole goal was for her to be around me as much as possible—that hadn’t happened. Olivia had no idea about that, of course, and since I was paying her realtor to not replace a place for her to move into, I had myself the loveliest, most perfect roommate of all time at the moment.

Lincoln had parked near me in one of his sports cars, and he was silent as he walked, texting someone—i.e. Monroe—as we walked.

“See ya,” I told him as I unlocked my truck.

“Hey, I just wanted to say something,” Lincoln said, before I could climb in the cab.

He sounded like he had his “Captain Linc” voice on, and I was immediately nervous.

“What’s up?”

“I don’t know everything that’s happened with Olivia, but what I do know is that most likely she’s going to replace out someday all about it.”

Well, fuck. Hadn’t expected this conversation today.

I eyed him warily.

“Just be prepared,” he said. “She’ll want to run…and I’d suggest not letting her.”

With those wise…and foreboding words…he walked to his car and got in.

I had fucking goosebumps.

I was deep in thought the entire drive home, going well over the speed limit because his words had made me fucking anxious.

What if she wasn’t there when I got back?

What if one day she left, and I never found her again?

As I pulled into the driveway and threw the truck into park, I’d all but convinced myself I was going to walk in and she wasn’t going to be there.

All my worries disappeared when I walked into the house.

And there she was.

Olivia was sitting in one of my t-shirts on the couch, strumming on her guitar. The way her eyes lit up when she saw me…if I hadn’t been in love already, I would have been now.

“Honey, I’m hoooome,” I called to her dramatically as I set my bag on the floor, trying to cover up the fact that I’d been freaking out for the past twenty minutes.

Her answering laugh settled something inside me.

“How was practice?” she asked as I stood there hesitantly.

Finally, I decided, “fuck it”, and embraced my desperation by walking over to the couch and lifting her up, settling her on my lap so I could wrap myself around her.

I took a second to breathe her in, until my heart stopped pounding and I’d convinced myself she was really here.

She was quiet, probably sensing my mood even though I was trying my best to hide it.

“How was practice?’ she asked softly, as the mood in the room drifted into some sort of dreamy subspace.

“The team’s fucking incredible. I can just feel it, ya know…this year is going to be special.” She laid her head back on my shoulder and softly stroked my arm.

“Stanley Cup all the way.”

“Shhh. You can’t say that. It’s bad luck!” I said, putting a hand over her mouth. She bit down on my hand and I growled, hardening underneath her.

I was learning all sorts of things about my sexual preferences lately. Biting included.

“Have you been working on a new song?” I asked and she nodded, shyly almost, like she didn’t know what I’d think about that.

“Am I allowed to hear it?” I murmured.

She paused for a moment. “Of course.”

I picked her up and cradled her in my arms, her guitar still in her hands.

“What are you doing?” she said with a laugh.

“I have an idea. I think you should sing while we’re in bed.”

“In bed, huh?”

“Yep, in bed. While I’m inside of you. This might be the best idea I’ve ever had.”

She snorted.

“Well, what do you think?” I asked, kicking the door of the bedroom open since I didn’t want to let her go.

“It’s definitely worth experimenting with,” she said seriously.

“I like that attitude, Jones,” I murmured, gently laying her on the bed. She stared up at me, her features softened in the fading light. Every time I saw her she took my breath away.

Sometimes I wondered if she’d stepped out of a dream, a dark dream, where all of the things I wanted most in life had been captured inside one person—a person I had to sell my fucking soul to get. With her hair splayed out around her like a halo, and her delicate features illuminated by the softening light, she really looked like an angel.

Every curve of her face, every line and contour, was perfect, a testament to the sheer artistry of her existence. I traced the curve of her face with my fingertips, marveling at everything about her—the way her lashes brushed against her cheeks, the way her lips arched into a smile. She surpassed anything I had ever known. Sometimes it felt like I’d been granted a glimpse of paradise—a paradise that was destined to lead me to hell as I chased after it.

“I’m obsessed with you,” I murmured, and she smiled, because she thought I was joking.

Leaning down, I brushed my lips down her neck, the answering sigh making my cock even harder.

I stood up.

“Now get undressed.”

Olivia

Looking at him up close like this…it was almost overwhelming. It should be outlawed for a man to be so pretty. I wanted to lick him all over…and I’d finally decided…that wasn’t weird.

Considering I spent today alone, it was one of the best days that I had experienced in a long time. Being in a place where Jolette and Marco weren’t allowed to barge in. Feeling safe. Having Walker’s things around me…It was a level of comfort I hadn’t had maybe…ever.

Seeing all the pictures online of myself around town with Walker hadn’t even bothered me. I had even saved some of them because I loved how we looked like we belonged together in them.

That had certainly never happened before. The headlines had even been, dare I say…nice.

For the first time in a long time, I’d picked up a guitar…and the words had just come.

I hadn’t even realized how much time had passed until Walker was unlocking the door and he’d walked in.

“What are you thinking about right now, angel?” he murmured, his hand stroking down my skin.

“That I feel happy,” I whispered, biting down on my lip because the words felt strange to say.

His answering grin was blinding.

“That’s my only goal, nowadays, so I’m glad that I’m inching closer.”

I pulled on his shoulders so he was leaning over me, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. I’d never imagined I could feel comfortable with someone like this. So quickly.

I was already hating the thought of moving out when I found my own place.

“Tell me something no one else knows about you, and then I’m going to fuck you while you sing to me,” he said in that same soft, romantic tone he’d been using since he got home.

My mouth dropped open, and he had the audacity to wink at me, like he hadn’t just ruined my panties.

“You first,” I ordered.

Walker straddled me and pulled on the t-shirt, yanking it off. “One of these days I’m going to fuck you in my t-shirt…and then in my jersey…but that’s going to have to wait for another day. I’ve got a specific fantasy of you playing the guitar naked, and that’s what I’m hoping you’ll give me today.”

I could feel my skin heating up as he removed the jean shorts I’d been wearing as well.

A second later, the panties and bra somehow seemed to magically disappear, and I was lying naked underneath him. Luckily for me, he’d undressed as well this time.

“There,” he said, with an air of satisfaction. “Now everything’s perfect.”

I rolled my eyes but made no move to cover myself. I liked him looking at me as if he’d die if he looked away.

I got hungry looks from people all the time, but it was for ‘Olivia Darling’. Walker had seen all the broken parts of ‘Olivia Jones’ and he was still looking at me like the sun rose and set because I existed.

He made me feel different. Like the world didn’t have to be gray anymore. Like it was possible for me to live in a world where colors existed.

I wondered what it would be like if I got to keep him—at the same time hating that he’d made me think of things like that.

“Let’s see. What’s a new thing for you to know about me?” he mused, dragging me out of my darkening thoughts like he always did.

“You mean what’s something no one knows about you,” I corrected him, and he kissed me, like my sassy mouth turned him on.

That or he was trying to shut me up.

Regardless, I was a big fan of his methods.

“Ready for this one, because there’s a ‘before’ and there’s an ‘after’ you replace this out. And there’s no going back,” he told me, his tone very serious.

“Alright, give it to me, Davis.”

“Last names, I like your style.”

“I’m learning from the best,” I said with a wink, as his gaze dipped from my face to my boobs for a second.

I’d kind of forgotten I was naked for a minute.

“Here it is. I’m scared of…pineapples.”

I stared at him for a second. “Sorry…what did you just say?”

“Well, only when they’re on my pizza but…”

I poked him in the stomach and huffed. “I thought we were being serious. I’m literally laying here, butt naked, desperate for you to fuck me.”

“I’m well aware. But please feel free to say “fuck me” again. Because that was fucking hot.”

“Tell me something real,” I insisted softly as his fingertips dragged along my sides.

He was quiet for a moment, seemingly lost in thought—that or he was staring at my breasts, I couldn’t really tell.

“My dad died ten years ago. He woke up one day, kissed my mother, got out of bed…and then just died. And my mom…she might as well have died too. She’s basically a zombie. A sweet, sad zombie. Every day.”

I stared at him in shock. And then…in shame. How had I not known that? He seemed to know everything about me…and this was kind of a big thing.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

He shook his head. “I mean, it’s a terrible story. And it fucking sucks for my mom. But I—I get it now.”

“You get it now?” I said, confused.

“Losing you, I couldn’t come back from that. So I get it. How she feels.”

I stared at him, words completely failing me, as they seemed to do quite often since I’d met him. A tear slid down my face and he watched it, fascinated for a second before he did that thing…

And licked it off.

“Tell me your something real now,” he said, looking nonplussed as he lifted his tongue from my face.

“Why do you do that?” I asked, wrinkling my nose.

“What?”

“Lick my tears,” I said, a weird giggle coming out of my mouth.

“I think that should be obvious, sweetheart.”

“Nope, not obvious.” His dick was pushing into my stomach, precum leaking out onto my skin.

He leaned over me again so that his lips were brushing against my ear. “Because I want all of you. I covet you. I want your tears, your cum, your words, your breath. I want everything.”

My entire body reacted violently to his words, and my core fluttered. I was pretty sure I could have an orgasm just from the sound of his voice…especially when he was saying crazy things like that.

“I want to hear your song now, and I want to fuck you,” he murmured.

And how could I argue with that?

In one smooth move, he rolled us over so that I was now lying on top of him. I grabbed his dick, my hand barely fitting around it as I eased my hand up and down his long, perfect length. I could see my name beaded down his dick from this angle.

And like usual, the evidence of his crazy made me so fucking hot.

He squeezed and played with my nipples as I played with his dick, his half lidded gaze watching my hands move.

A hand moved to my clit and he lazily caressed it, his fingers grazing over the sensitive bud and driving me crazy. I squeezed his dick harder as my insides lightly spasmed, watching as beads of precum slid down the head of his dick.

So. Fucking. Hot.

“Ride me, sweetheart. Squeeze my dick with that perfect cunt, and ride me.”

I slid his tip along my wet slit, moaning at the sensation. He was watching me avidly, that awestruck look in his gaze again.

“Stop teasing me, sweetheart,” he groaned as his hands slid along my skin.

I lifted up and slowly lowered myself onto his dick, inch by inch, groaning as he stretched me far beyond what was comfortable.

My head fell back, my breath coming out in gasps as his balls fit against the curve of my ass.

“Wow,” I muttered, and he laughed, the vibration of his body too much for my current position.

“You’re so tight. How are you so tight every fucking time?” he growled. “Fuck.”

I rocked up, a squelching sound filling the air because of how completely soaked I was. And then I slammed down, the head of his dick hitting so freaking deep. My hands dug into his chest and I leaned forward, trying to ride him harder. My clit rubbed against the base of his dick as he massaged my breasts.

My core clenched and he growled.

“Fuck. Look at you. Riding my cock like a fucking queen. You’re soaking my dick. You were made for me.” He pumped up into me, perfectly in sync with the roll of my hips.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I chanted, my orgasm approaching. His abs were clenching underneath my fingertips and I whimpered as his hips thrust into me. “Almost,” I cried as he did some kind of hot guy sit up move and sucked on my nipple, biting down softly and pushing me into an orgasm.

My core squeezed around his length as pleasure surged down my spine. I fell forward and he continued to fuck into me.

“I love you,” he murmured, and my eyes flew open.

What had he just said?

His cum filled me in hot bursts as he came. It spilled out, wetting my thighs and the base of his cock.

I was still staring at him, and he cocked his head, reaching up and smoothing my hair out of my face as his thrusts slowed.

“Still want me to play?” I whispered, and he nodded, a tiny smirk on his lips, like he knew I was freaking out about what he’d just said and trying to distract us both from the fact of it.

“Please,” he said, his dick twitching inside me.

I carefully grabbed my guitar that was somehow still intact on the bed beside us, more liquid seeping out as I moved.

He groaned a little and began to stroke the outside of my thighs, his aquamarine stare burning as he watched me. He was hardening inside me again, but I ignored it…for now. I loved being connected to him like this, filled up completely. I closed my eyes and strummed the familiar strings, and then I started singing the song that I’d written just for him—the first time I’d ever written a love song that was actually about a real someone…

In shadows deep, I wandered lost,

No shelter found, nor bridge to cross.

Then you appeared, a guiding light,

Leading me from the darkest night.

I swayed as I sang, realizing at some point that I was actually making love to him as I moved.

I couldn’t call it anything else.

How could you call it “fucking” when you were baring your soul while you were doing it?

My eyes opened and I saw there was a light sheen of sweat across his forehead. His eyes were bright, his pupils blown out…almost like he was high…which maybe he was. Maybe he was high on us…high on me.

I felt the same way.

This…this was better than what any pill had ever given me.

You’re my safe place, my shelter in the storm,

With you by my side, I feel reborn.

In your arms, I replace my solace and my grace,

With you, I’ve found my hope, my love, my safe place.

I sang and my pussy clenched around him, and I felt like he’d become a part of me. Like we were two halves of one soul, somehow separated, and now we’d found our way back to each other. I stared down at him in wonder, another tear sliding down my cheek as our bodies moved together. This is what music was meant to be. This is what they meant when they said mind, body, and soul.

I felt him everywhere.

In your arms, all fears cease,

With you, my love, I replace my peace.

The last notes of the song reverberated around the room and he gently pulled the guitar away from me, tossing it on the other side of the bed as he rolled us over and began fucking me in earnest.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” he chanted, his soulful gaze locked on mine.

He owned me.

He owned my body.

He owned my heart.

He owned everything.

I started to cum, shockwaves of pleasure everywhere, like I’d touched a livewire that energized me rather than burned.

His thrusts picked up, like if he fucked me hard enough, he’d be imprinted inside me forever.

I wasn’t opposed to that idea.

“Say it,” he begged, cradling my face as he kissed me desperately. “Say it,” he whispered.

“I love you,” slipped out of my mouth, and something happened that I never would have predicted.

I didn’t regret it.

That fact was my something ‘real.’