“What?”
That innocent tone draws a smoky chuckle from me. She’s not fooling me with that act. What I would give to throw her over my shoulder right now and drag her sexy ass out of here.
“I need to get back to work. With your dad, remember?”
She gestures to the opposite end of the rink. “He’s all the way over there.”
“Funny, it feels like he’s breathing down my neck when you send me messages like that,” I whisper. “I’ve gotta get back to practice.”
She holds her hands up. “I’ll be here, working on this illustration.”
“Behave.”
As I walk away, she texts me again. I swipe my tongue across my lower lip and tap out a quick response.
CraftyCutie:Make me.
MightyPuck:I deal with hockey players all day. Handling a brat to keep her in line isn’t a problem.
Her breathy laughter follows me every step until I’m rinkside. She continues messaging me.
CraftyCutie:I like it when you get bossy.
By some miracle, I manage to read it with a straight face.
CraftyCutie:I think you should tie my wrists with that whistle and put me on my knees, Coach Bossy.
This time I risk glancing at her. She waves with a mischievous grin that makes me want her hair wrapped around my fist and those lush red lips around my cock.
I whip the green Heston U Hockey hat off my head and rake my fingers through my hair a few times before jamming it back on.
She goes silent for a while. I start to relax and focus on practice while she’s preoccupied with her design.
Then the vibration of my phone sends a shot of heat right to my dick before I even read the notification.
CraftyCutie:Last night I had a dream about you making me sit on your face. It was so hot that I woke up with my pussy throbbing. I fucked myself with one of my toys in the shower while I fantasized about riding your cock. Want to see a picture of it later?
I choke back a groan. Who knew the head coach’s daughter could be so naughty?
One of the junior d-men gives me a funny look when he’s done squirting water in his mouth. I clear my throat and nod to him.
Shit, I’m supposed to be working. Coaching this team rather than playing filthy texting tag with her.
If that’s how she wants to play this while she sits in the stands to watch practice, I’m upping the ante.
MightyPuck:Be my good girl. Go take your panties off.
An electrifying thrill surges through my veins when she gets up a minute later. I track her, heartbeat drumming in time to her measured steps. It’s not my imagination that she sways her hips because she glances over her shoulder, gaze colliding with mine. She smirks.
Blood rushes south.Fuck.
I want to follow her. Watch her while she takes them off.
Kiss her again. Fuck her senseless somewhere in this training facility to show her how crazy she’s making me.
I exhale forcefully. I need to get a grip before I do something stupid, like give us away.
Once the guys wrap up their drills, we call them to center ice. I put my skates on and pair up with Steve to go over the next maneuver we’re working on. I borrow Easton’s stick and drop a puck to the ice.
