Margo tenses up beside me, and I reach out and slip my hand into hers as we follow Ted to the coaches’ office. Our cover is already blown, but at least the upside of no longer trying to hide is that I can comfort my girl and remind her that I’m right here with her. Our fingers lace together, and I give her hand a squeeze as we enter the large office.
Coach Dunaway shares the office with our assistant coach, Bradley Price, although neither of them are at their desks at the moment. Cedric Foster, the head of HR, is there though, and he nods curtly to us as we step inside.
I clear my throat, the back of my neck prickling as I glance around the space. It’s not a room anyone ever wants to be summoned to, because it’s usually a room where reprimands or bad news are doled out.
I’ve gotta hand it to Ted for being so tuned in to what’s happening with the team from a PR perspective. He must’ve gotten wind of the leaked video during the game and called Cedric to help handle the fallout, whatever that may be.
“I’ve asked Coach Dunaway to join us as well,” Ted tells me and Margo. “He’s just finishing up the post-game press conference.”
Margo nods stiffly, and I squeeze her hand again as we wait in tense silence. A few minutes later, Dunaway strides into the office, followed by Coach Price. They both nod curtly to us, and I wonder if Dunaway knew about the leaked video when he spoke to the team after a game. Most likely not, since he was focused on what was happening on the ice, just like the rest of us were. Ted must’ve pulled him aside on his way to the press conference and filled him in.
Dunaway and Price settle in at their desks, and Dunaway looks to Cedric. The head of HR is a stern looking man with thin-rimmed glasses and a head of gray hair, and he clears his throat, opening his mouth like he’s about to get the conversation started. But before he can, Margo speaks first.
“I’m so sorry,” she blurts out. “I swear, I thought I turned off the recording. I don’t know what happened, but these men bumped into me while I was doing the live. I must not have hit the button properly, and—”
Ted puts up a hand to stop her, and her mouth snaps shut mid-sentence.
“Look, Margo,” he says with a sigh. His tie is slightly askew, and he straightens it as he leans against Dunaway’s desk. “We’re not accusing you of doing this on purpose. I know you, and I know you would never purposefully pull a stunt like this. Not even if it did bring in a lot of social media traffic.”
I smile, trying to highlight the positive. “So, in a way, maybe it was kind of a good thing.”
Cedric makes a disapproving noise, and Coach Dunaway shoots me a quelling look. “Don’t get ahead of yourself there, Blake.”
Margo closes her eyes, then opens them again. I can practically feel her crumbling inside. “Am I fired?” she asks quietly.
“Wait, you can’t fire her,” I object, leaping to her defense before any of them can even answer the question. “It wasn’t her fault. I’m just as much to blame, and we did everything we could to keep things discreet.”
“That’s the problem.” Cedric frowns at us both, shaking his head. “Discreet from the public is one thing. Secret from your employer is something else entirely.”
Ted inclines his head slightly, acknowledging Cedric’s words before adding, “That being said, nobody is getting fired tonight.”
“Really?” Margo’s face is pale, but a sliver of hope breaks through the tension in her features.
“Really,” Cedric confirms, although his severe expression doesn’t waver. “We understand that the video getting posted was a mistake. We also understand wanting to keep your relationship out of the public eye. But…” He raises his eyebrows, crossing his arms over his chest. “You should have reported any romantic relationships between you to HR. We’ll need to rectify that immediately.”
“Is that it?” I ask.
“Not quite.” He adjusts his glasses, lifting them a bit higher on his nose. “Margo, you’ll be suspended from posting on any Denver Aces social media accounts for the next two weeks. You can send content to Ted, and he’ll upload it for you, making sure we don’t repeat the events of today.”
Margo nods. “I understand.”
“And Noah, I’m going to let your coach decide how or whether to discipline you for your part in this. Carrying out a secret relationship may have had some impact on your performance, so if that’s how Coach Dunaway feels, he can deal with that as he sees fit.”
“If anything,” I say firmly, “I think I’ve been playing better since Margo started working here. Just saying.”
“We’ll talk before practice tomorrow,” Dunaway puts in, resting his elbows on his desk as he nods to me.
I nod back, already feeling hopeful that my punishment won’t be anything major. I have been playing well this season, so there’s no good argument Coach could make to bench me. Hopefully all he’ll do is give me a slap on the wrist and make me do some extra drills after practice.
“And I’ll need you to sign these.” Cedric opens up a folder that’s been sitting on Price’s desk and slides two pieces of paper toward us.
“What are they?” Margo asks.
“Consensual relationship agreements,” he says. “Stating that the two of you have decided to enter into this relationship completely by your own choice, without any quid-pro-quo agreement or what have you. It acknowledges that you have reported your relationship to management and understand the policies and guidelines related to workplace romance.”
The two of us step forward and sign the agreements quickly, and once Cedric has them back, he taps them against the desk to line up the papers perfectly before slipping them back into the file folder. Then Margo and I are dismissed, with Dunaway reminding me to meet him before practice tomorrow morning.
Out in the hallway, I take Margo’s hand again. She’s gazing ahead of us, her expression a little stunned, as if she’s still processing everything that just happened. Ted catches up to us halfway down the hall, clearing his throat to get our attention. We turn to look at him, and unlike in Dunaway’s office, his expression is actually quite pleased.
“This isn’t the official company line,” he tells us in a low voice. “And for the record, I don’t condone posting your personal business to social media in any way, shape, or form… but in case you were wondering, our engagement is through the roof.” He smiles at Margo. “It seems, Miss Lucas, that even when you’re not trying to be good at your job, you are still damn good at your job.”
Margo flushes, her shoulders slumping as more tension drains out of them. “I’m glad. I really love this team. And this job.”
“It shows.”
He gives her a nod and then heads back to the coaches’ office, and the two of us leave the building hand in hand.
Outside the arena, we run into a few reporters who must’ve stuck around after the press conference ended. I step between them and Margo, because I know some of them can be ravenous, and I don’t want them bombarding her. A man toward the front of the group asks if it’s true we’re in a relationship, and I share a look with Margo.
She nods, biting her lip, so I answer truthfully.
“Yup,” I say, pride roaring in my chest as I give the reporter a wide grin. “That’s right. Margo Lucas and I are dating.”
I put my arm around her and pull her in close as I speak. Now that the truth is out and we’ve faced the consequences, it feels so damn good to tell the world that this gorgeous, incredible woman is mine.
A few more people try to ask questions, but I brush them off with short answers and hustle Margo toward the parking lot. She leans against me, our strides syncing up, and I steer her toward my car instead of walking her to hers.
“Where are we going?” she asks, tilting her head to look up at me.
“I was thinking we could go back to my place.” I can’t hide the hunger in my voice as I add, “I promised you a hat trick, remember?”
Her gray eyes gleam in the dim light, and she shivers. “I like that plan.”
“Good,” I murmur. “Because I want to spend as much of the night as possible with my dick buried inside my girlfriend.”
She bites her lip. “Is that my official title now?”
“Hell, yes,” I growl. We reach the car and I press her up against it. “I mean… assuming you want it to be.”
“Yeah,” she whispers. “I’d like that.”
“Good.”
I kiss her, pinning her between me and the cool metal of my car. It would be so easy to let this escalate here, but I know that’s not a good idea, so I finally step back, releasing my hold on her.
“Dammit, I wish I lived closer,” I groan, opening the car door.
She laughs as she slides inside, and I hustle around to the driver’s side and climb in before peeling out of the parking lot. Unwilling to stop touching her for even a minute, I reach over and rest my hand on her leg, gripping it possessively. She lets out a little sigh, shifting beneath my palm.
My girlfriend.
Mine.
Those words keep ricocheting around in my head. I dated a bit in high school and college, but never anything serious. And once I got really serious about my hockey career, it sort of took over everything for a while. I didn’t have time for a girlfriend, for someone who would take my focus away from hockey. Even once I got my contract with the Aces and started to settle into my career, I still never saw myself settling down.
But with the woman sitting beside me? I can see so many things I never even imagined.
I squeeze her thigh again, almost like I’m trying to confirm that this is real. That she’s real. She crashed into my life out of nowhere and turned everything on its head. She blew up the easy, simple life I had before… but the truth is, I like this new, more complex version of my life so much better.
We’re only seven or eight minutes away from my place, but it feels like too fucking long.
My hand slides up her leg, cupping the warm heat of her pussy through her pants, and her thighs fall open to give me better access. The implicit trust and desire in that simple gesture makes my cock harden even more, and I rub her through her jeans, sliding my fingertips over her until her breathing starts to pick up.
I glance at the clock on the dash. We’re five minutes away from my condo.
But if there’s one thing hockey has taught me, it’s that a lot can happen in five minutes.
Keeping my gaze on the road, I quickly flick open the button on her jeans and drag her zipper down. My fingers slip inside, brushing over her clit and sliding through her folds.
“You’re soaked, you dirty girl,” I murmur. “Is that all for me?”
She nods, her head dropping back against the headrest. “It’s always for you.”
“Good.” I sink my fingers into her, curling them against her inner walls. “Because whenever I’m hard, it’s for you.”
“Are you hard right now?”
“So fucking hard. My cock is dying to be inside you. I wanna wrap your legs around me and make you scream.”
Four minutes.
She moans softly, undulating her hips against my hand, and thrust a few more times before pulling my fingers out to concentrate on her clit. I’ve learned that she gets off fastest with direct stimulation, so I give it to her, circling my fingers in a way that makes her moans grow louder.
Three minutes.
“What else… do you want to do?” she gasps.
I grin, never letting up the firm pressure of my fingers. “I want to devour every inch of you, Sunflower. I want to fuck you in every hole you have, including your ass. Has anyone ever fucked you there?”
“No,” she breathes. She’s getting wetter and wetter, my fingers slipping and sliding over her swollen clit.
“Good. Because I want to be the first and last. The only man to ever fuck you there. To have every bit of you. Would you let me do that? Would you let me show you how fucking good I can make you feel with my cock buried in your ass and my fingers stuffed into your pussy?”
She’s squirming in her seat now, holding on to my forearm with both hands as she rides my fingers. “Yes. Oh god…”
Two minutes.
I take a turn toward my condo building, and the movement of the car presses my fingers harder against her clit. She whimpers, and my dick pulses in response. Music is playing softly through the car’s speakers, but all I can hear is the ragged sound of her breathing. Her nails dig into my forearm, leaving little crescent shaped marks as I flick my fingers back and forth over her clit.
One minute.
We take another turn, and my condo building comes into view up ahead. Margo’s eyelashes flutter, and I know she’s close.
“Noah,” she breathes.
“I know, baby,” I promise. “I’ve got you. Now come on my fingers for me like a good girl.”
I pinch her clit between my forefinger and thumb, and that sets her off. “Oh my… oh fuck!” she cries out.
The seat belt tightens across her chest as her back arches, and I thrust my fingers inside her again, giving her something to clamp down around as I grind my palm against her clit.
She’s still shuddering a little as I pull into the parking garage beneath my building, taking the ramp down toward my assigned spot. I park the car and then turn to her, my fingers still buried inside her.
“That was one,” I tell her, leaning over to press my lips to hers. “I owe you two more for that hat trick, remember?”
Her eyes are hazy with desire, and she grabs a handful of my hair as she kisses me messily.
I help her out of the car, and we manage to make it up to my condo in record time. The elevator ride doesn’t last long, but I take the opportunity to remind her of the first day we met, pulling her against me and sliding my leg between hers so that my thigh presses against her sensitive clit.
By the time we burst into my condo, both of us are so worked up that we don’t make it past the front door. I slam it shut behind us and press her against the solid wood, boxing her in as I kiss her and tear at her clothes. She kicks her shoes off as I pull her shirt over her head, and she tugs my pants down as I work hers over her hips. My shirt goes next, and then her bra, and when I get impatient and rip her panties off, she laughs breathlessly.
“Five new pairs,” she reminds me.
“Make it ten,” I growl, shoving my pants the rest of the way off. “We’ll call it an advance.”
Then I lift her in my arms, notching my cock at her entrance and impaling her against the door in a single, hard stroke.
Her arms and legs wrap around me, her pussy squeezing me like a vise as she groans. “I still can’t believe… how big you are.”
“Is it too much?”
She shakes her head, clinging to me harder. “No. It’s perfect.”
“That’s my girl.”
I keep a tight grip on her hips, holding her in place as I fuck her, loving the fact that there’s nothing between us, that we can be as spontaneous as we want. I never plan to use a condom when I fuck her again if I can help it. Nothing will ever feel as good as being buried inside her raw.
“You take my cock so fucking well,” I grunt. “You love it, don’t you?”
“Yes!” She buries her face against my neck, her breath hitting my skin in warm puffs. “I love it so much. Make me come again, Noah. Please!”
“Anything my girl wants.”
My hips snap forward over and over as she starts to shake in my arms. Her heels are digging into my ass, and she’s so wet that I can feel it coating my cock and sliding down my balls. When she comes, she goes so tight around me that it makes white spots dance around in front of my eyes, and I’m breathing hard as I pull out and set her back on her feet.
Her legs wobble a little as I spin her around to face the door. She slaps her palms to the smooth wood, bracing herself as I bend her at the waist. Her gorgeous ass is on perfect display like this, and I bring my palm down across one cheek, loving the way it jiggles as she gasps.
“One more, baby,” I tell her. “I need one more from you. At least.”
Then I grab her hips and shove back inside. My legs are spread wider than hers to accommodate the height difference between us, and I pick up the same hard pace I was fucking her with a moment ago, using my hold on her hips to bounce her on my cock. My entryway fills with the obscene sounds of smacking flesh, grunts, and moans as I push her toward her third orgasm.
She drops her head, and I gather her blonde hair in my fist, tugging lightly so that her head lifts and her back arches.
“Scream my name when you come,” I murmur gruffly. “I need to hear it. I want everyone in this building to know who’s fucking you.”
Tugging against my hold on her hair, she cranes her neck to look back at me over her shoulder. Her cheeks are flushed, and heat blazes in her eyes.
“My boyfriend is fucking me,” she breathes. “With his big, pierced cock.”
Fuck. I’m done for.
My shaft swells, and I grit my teeth as I try to stave off my orgasm, but it’s too late. I slam inside her one more time, empty myself in her sweet cunt, and we stumble forward so that her chest is pressed against the door. I can feel her convulsing around me as she comes too, our sweat slicked bodies pressed together.
Goddamn. That might’ve been even better than a hat trick on the ice.
