Page 11 of Puck Me Harder

Fuck, but it feels so much better than my solo session with my vibrator last night. Kai’s warm body pressed against mine lights up every nerve ending in my entire body.

“Careful,” Kai growls against me as his mouth moves to my throat. “You’re on thin ice, now.”

I freeze, realizing with a start that my hands are drifting down to his towel. A few inches and some thin terry cloth are all that’s keeping his cock from springing out. I want it so much it hurts.

But with that ache comes a sudden, sharp fear.

I spring back, jumping off of him and grabbing my towel to wrap around myself. I thought his midnight eyes were smoldering before, but right now they’re blazing infernos.

“Tonight. Tom’s. I’ll be there early, so come whenever you want,” Kai says, not moving a muscle.

I nod, not trusting my voice.

Because if I speak, if I say a single word?

I’m going to beg Kai Mita to take my virginity right here, right now.

4

Kai

Tom’s Sports Bar is packed, but there’s always room for a few local star players.

The weather is finally nice enough that the patio isn’t too hot for comfort. The early autumn air is crisp, but the sun is still warm as it sets, painting the sky in pink and purple.

Sawyer cuts an imposing figure, turning the heads of every girl in the place as he carries a pitcher of beer over to our table. He’s the all-American all-star. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect smile. Even a T-shirt and jeans look expensive on his frame.

Captain America. It’d be annoying, if he wasn’t such a good guy.

“You’ve got to be more careful, Kai,” Sawyer sits down opposite me, setting the pitcher down. “Some puck bunny is going to get her claws into you deep if you keep playing games. Wallace already has you on his radar.”

I groan, letting my head hang back as I balance my chair on two legs.

“I should have known.” I pour a glass and raise the beer, eyeing Sawyer over the rim. “So this is not just a beer, huh Captain? Time for a wholesome lecture?”

I drain half the glass in one drink before topping it off again.

“It’s a friendly chat, Kai. I’m your team captain, not your dad.” Sawyer pours his own beer and sits back.

The worst part is that Sawyer is just a genuine guy. He cares about the team— and the players. It’s what makes him such a good captain.

“Good thing, too. My dad was a real asshole,” I observe, taking another long pull from my beer.

All around us, people cheer at various games. Baseball is on the majority of the televisions, but we’re at our usual table, which means hockey is blaring from the screens that surround us.

“Yeah. I figured. Sorry about that. If you ever want to talk —”

I wave him off, rolling my eyes.

“No, Sawyer. I don’t need to talk about my daddy issues with you. I came to terms with them a long time ago. A little percussive therapy,” I say, cracking my knuckles and grinning as I make a fist.

Sawyer shakes his head, but there’s a faint smile hidden behind his beer. My eyes go past him, watching as a group of guys enter the patio, heading towards our corner.

“Aw fuck,” I mutter. “Trouble, six o’clock.”

Sawyer twists in his chair and stiffens for a moment, before relaxing and turning back to me.

“Let’s not make a scene, alright?”