One

CASSY

Only hours earlier, I had walked in on my boyfriend of two years fucking another girl in our bed.

Heartbroken and furious, I packed a bag and flew to Las Vegas with my best friends for a girls’ trip to forget the pain.

I leaned against the sleek bar inside the crowded club, sipping my martini, when a tall, tattooed figure slid confidently beside me.

“You keep looking at me like that and I might think you want trouble,” a deep, rough voice said.

I turned and met his intense dark eyes.

I recognized him instantly.

Damon Voss, the cocky captain of the Los Angeles Kings. Famous for his brutal hits on the ice and his notorious playboy reputation off it. His team had flown into Vegas for a preseason game against the Golden Knights the night before.

“I know who you are,” I replied with a teasing smile. “Damon Voss, right? The guy who scored that insane overtime goal last week.”

He smirked, leaning one muscular arm on the bar, his presence dominating the space around us. “Impressed?”

“Maybe. You play like you own the ice. It’s hard not to notice.”

His gaze traveled over me slowly, dark with clear interest. “And you look like the kind of trouble I’d love to get into.”

We fell into quick, flirty conversation. He asked about my life as a sports physiotherapist, genuinely curious between his arrogant jokes. I didn’t mention my cheating ex. Instead, I laughed at his stories and enjoyed how his eyes never left mine.

After a few minutes, he leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear. “I want you tonight. My hotel suite. No strings, just one wild night. You in?”

Heat flooded my body. After everything that happened today, I wanted to feel wanted. “Yes.”

We barely made it inside his luxurious hotel suite before his mouth crashed onto mine.

He kissed like he played hockey—aggressive, commanding, and completely in control.

He lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carried me across the room. Vegas lights sparkled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a golden glow over us.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he growled, setting me on the edge of the massive bed.

He stripped my dress off in one smooth motion, his hands roaming my body with rough hunger. He kissed down my neck, sucking on my breasts until I arched beneath him, moaning softly.

“Damon…” I gasped as his fingers slid between my thighs, finding me already soaked.

He circled my clit with expert pressure, then pushed two thick fingers inside me, curling them perfectly. He dropped to his knees, spreading my legs wide. His tongue replaced his fingers, licking and sucking with relentless skill. Pleasure built fast and intense.

I gripped his hair, hips bucking as I came hard, crying out his name.

Before I could recover, he stood, shoved his pants down, and rolled on a condom. His cock was thick, long, and rock hard. He gripped my thighs and thrust deep in one powerful stroke.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, starting a ruthless rhythm.

Each deep thrust hit the perfect spot. He flipped me onto all fours, pulled my hair, and took me harder from behind, spanking me lightly. “Come again for me, baby.”

I shattered around him a second time. He followed with a deep groan, burying himself to the hilt.

We were far from done.

He took me against the window next, my breasts pressed to the cool glass while he fucked me slow and deep, the glittering Strip spread out below us. His tattooed shoulders flexed powerfully with every thrust.

Then once more in the luxurious shower, water cascading over our bodies as he drove into me against the tiles.

Hours later, we lay tangled in the silk sheets, sweaty and satisfied.

Damon traced a finger lazily along my spine, his usual cocky mask softening for a moment.

“I don’t say this often,” he murmured, voice low. “But that was incredible. After this next stretch of games, I’m going to contact you. I want more of you. I’m already addicted.”

“We’ll see, hockey star.” I smiled, tracing one of the tattoos on his chest.

I slipped out before dawn, heart racing, leaving him asleep.

One unforgettable night.

For the first time since catching my ex, I felt alive again.

*****

One week later…

“Sweetheart, we’re here!” Mom called excitedly as the car stopped in front of a sprawling modern mansion with a marble driveway and towering windows in the hills of Los Angeles.

I grabbed my suitcase, still thinking about my new sports physiotherapy residency starting soon.

Mom’s secret marriage after a whirlwind romance had shocked me, but she insisted this move into her new husband’s luxurious home would be a fresh start for us both.

As the gates opened, I felt both curiosity and unease. The estate looked more like a private resort than a family home, with manicured gardens, marble pathways, and staff moving quietly between buildings. Mom squeezed my shoulder and smiled, trying to reassure me, yet I noticed a hint of nervousness in her eyes. Inside, portraits of unfamiliar relatives lined the walls, silently watching our arrival. I reminded myself that change often feels uncomfortable at first. Still, something about the house seemed strangely distant, as if it were hiding stories no one had told me yet until this very moment there.

I forced a smile, trying to stay positive despite the nerves.

We stepped into the grand foyer. The space smelled of fresh leather and pine, everything screaming wealth and power.

“Dad, I’ll hit the gym after this.” A familiar deep voice echoed from the staircase above.

My blood ran cold.

There, walking down the sweeping stairs in nothing but low grey sweatpants, was Damon. His sculpted, tattooed body was still slightly damp from a recent workout, muscles flexing with each step.

Our eyes locked across the foyer.

Shock flashed across his handsome face, quickly replaced by raw, burning heat—the same heat from that wild night in Vegas.

This was his house.

His father was now my stepfather.

Which made the man who had fucked me senseless in Vegas just one week ago… my new stepbrother.