Page 8 of Puck Me Harder
Kai studies me for a moment, letting his eyes move up and down my body.
In college, it was hard not to compare myself with every woman I knew. Social media, porn, and locker room talk are all enough to wreak havoc on self-esteem.
But right now, Kai Mita is looking at me like I’m the sexiest woman in the world. There’s no mistaking the way his eyes linger on the modest swell of my breasts beneath my shirt.
“Didn’t realize you were a lady, Ace.” Kai’s cocky grin is in full force as he leans harder against the boards. “I thought this was all business.”
My nipples harden to stiff peaks beneath his dark eyes.
“Mita! Get your ass to the locker room, you’re done!” Coach shouts at him.
“What’d I tell you? Alright, Ace.” Kai skates backward, drifting away from me. “Tell you what. You want an interview? You come find me. I’ll be in the sauna.”
I watch him go, knowing this is a terrible plan.
“Dakota—” Sofia says, a note of warning in her voice.
I shrug one shoulder but don’t turn to look at her.
“I’m not giving up over a little steam, Sofia. Don’t worry,” I project as much confidence into my voice as I can. “I know exactly what I’m doing.,”
I barely hear her muttering to herself as I walk away.
“That’s what I’m afraid of, D.”
* * *
The Snowhawks owner, Mike Dominican, spared no expense when it came to The Nest.
Every part of the facility is pristine and top-shelf. Sofie and I have toured a lot of the compound since we got here. And as much fun as it is to tease Kai about sweaty towels, even the locker room has that new-car smell.
Not that I could ever throw that man off his game. Kai is unshakable.
Not only is his body carved from solid granite, but his mental game is rock solid.
I bet that’s not all that’s rock solid.
Kai greets me at the entrance to the sauna, wrapped in only a tight white towel. I’ve seen him shirtless before, of course. There’s the infamous bar fight video. But I also pulled up a few of his better pictures last night in my hotel room while burning through batteries for my toy.
But seeing his tattooed chest up close, in person?
I’m already feeling my heartbeat between my thighs, so I feel it skip a beat twice.
“Looking good, Ace,” Kai grins as he kicks off the wall.
I tighten my own towel more securely beneath my arms. I’m not about to back down just because some hockey-slash-sex god thinks he can intimidate me.
“Is this why you’re notoriously difficult to interview?” I ask, pushing past him into the sauna. “Everything’s got to be your way— wow.”
I stop in my tracks. This is one part of the tour that most of the press will never get to see.
The Snowhawk sauna isn’t just a spa— it doubles as a luxury box. The far wall is made of one-way glass, giving a perfect view of the ice below. It’s so over-the-top that I freeze in the doorway, prompting Kai to place a gentle hand on the small of my back and lead me inside.
“This? No. I’ve never invited any of the other reporters to the sauna,” he says. “I’ve also never kissed any of them. Or fans, despite what you might have heard. That’s just tabloid gossip.”
His hand is a lot more respectful than I was expecting. It doesn’t linger, doesn’t drift. Just guides me gently inside.
“So you’re saying your reputation is all just wild speculation?” I ask, sitting on a bench with my back to the wall. “Kai Mita is just a misunderstood golden retriever?”