Zeek

Chapter Four: Zeek’s POV

“What’s your full name? What’s your relationship with fucking Leo Cane and his team?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Everything about you is my business now. You signed the contract.”

She crossed her arms, that same infuriating calm settling over her face like none of this shit actually touched her. Like she wasn’t standing in my space, with Leo’s smug face glowing on her lock screen.

“I like his stick handling. That’s it. Are we done here?”

“Nobody has a professional athlete as their lock screen because they like his stick handling—or are we talking other sticks?”

“Some of us appreciate skill without needing an explanation for it.”

I didn’t buy a single word. She was either some puck bunny desperate to climb the next available dick for clout, ready to sell a story, sell her body, sell whatever leverage she thought she had or Leo had planted her himself. 

Some weak-ass move to rattle me right before the biggest game of the season. Typical Cane. Too much of a bitch to come at me on the ice like a man, so he sends a woman to do his dirty work.

Five years I’d been laying hits on that prick, watching him skate like he had a personal death wish against me. Five years of him somehow slipping every bone-rattling check I lined up. And now this. His face on some random woman’s phone like he’d already won.

“Fine. Keep your secrets.” I stepped away from the door, watching her shoulders relax half an inch before I added, “Doesn’t matter anyway. You’re mine for three months. Whatever you feel for him, you’ll learn to hide it better than that screensaver.”

“I’m not yours. I’m contractually obligated to pretend to be yours. There’s a difference.”

“Not one anybody outside this room will care about.”

The lawyer had slipped out sometime during the back-and-forth, folder under his arm, muttering about billable hours I couldn’t give less of a fuck about. Good, now it’s just me and her.

I studied her while she gathered her shit, and that bothered me more than it should have. I still didn’t know her name, and that pissed me off more than it had any right to. I’d fucked plenty of women whose names I forgot before I even zipped up. 

This felt different and I don’t like not knowing why.She grabbed her box and the heels she’d kicked off earlier. “I’m leaving now.”

I moved in front of the door before she could reach it.

“Move.”

“No.”

“I signed your ridiculous contract. I don’t owe you another minute of my morning.”

“You owe me convincing. Right now you look like a woman who’d bolt the second a camera’s on you. I need you to look like a woman who wants to be here, who wants me here.”

“I will never look like a woman who wants to be here.”

“We’ll see about that.”

She tried to step around me. I caught her wrist in reflex, instinct, whatever the hell it was and she spun on me fast, fire flashing across that pretty face, mouth already opening to rip into me.

She never got the chance.

I crushed my mouth to hers, claiming it like I owned every inch. Her hands slammed against my chest, pushing, but there was a split-second hesitation where she didn’t. 

That tiny crack in her armor had my blood surging hot and my cock already thickening against my thigh.

Then she shoved me back, stumbling, fingers pressed to her lips like I’d burned her.

“What is wrong with you?”

“Think about it,” I growled, pulse hammering. “If we’re gonna sell this fake shit for three months, we should know exactly how good we are at faking it.”

“That’s the worst logic I’ve ever heard.”

“Prove me wrong then.”

My phone buzzed on the desk, a reminder, less than two hours until I had to be on the ice but I ignored it. Nothing else existed right now except her and the way her chest was rising fast under that jacket.

I closed the distance again, slower this time, giving her the chance to stop me. She didn’t. I took her mouth and my tongue swept in, tasting her, coaxing hers to dance with mine. She was soft, warm, and so fucking responsive it made my dick throb. 

Her lips parted wider, letting me devour her deeper, and a low groan rumbled up from my chest before I could stop it.

This wasn’t some tactical peck for the cameras. 

This was real heat, raw and filthy. I kissed her like I wanted to ruin her for anyone else, especially Leo Cane. My hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against me so she could feel exactly what she was doing to me. 

Kissing her twice made things worse and now it felt personal.

I don’t kiss women like this. I fuck them and I use their mouths for something faster, something that doesn’t demand shit from me. 

But her… Somehow this stranger I met less than 12 hours ago had me forgetting the script as her fingers curled into my shirt, pulling me closer and that small surrender sent triumph roaring through me.

Leo had taken my wife to be from me last night without even trying. Time to take something back; even if it was just this fiery little stranger who got wet over the way he handled his stick.

Her cap hit the floor somewhere between the door and the bed. I backed her up until her shoulders met the wall, my mouth never leaving hers. I kissed her harder, hungrier, biting her bottom lip and sucking it between my teeth until she gasped. 

My hands roamed down her sides, over the curve of her ass, squeezing the soft flesh as I ground my aching cock against her. She was all heat and yielding curves under my palms, perfect handfuls that made me want to rip every layer off and bury myself inside her.

Her jacket slid off her shoulders. My fingers worked the buttons of her shirt open while hers tugged at my belt buckle with shaky urgency. 

The clink of metal filled the room while I shoved the fabric aside, palming her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple until it tightened into a hard peak. She arched into me with a soft, needy sound that went straight to my balls.

“Fuck,” I muttered against her throat, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, sucking marks I knew would show tomorrow. Mine. For the next three months, every inch of her was going to scream Zeek’s.

She whimpered, hips rolling against me, chasing friction. My hand slid lower, dipping under her waistband, fingers brushing damp heat—

A sharp knock cracked against the door.

We didn’t stop fast enough.

The door swung open, and a scream ripped through the room, freezing us mid-motion; my hand still possessively on her body, her fingers tangled in my half-undone belt, lips swollen and wet from my kiss.

Fuck.