LOGINThe hotel suite door clicked shut at 2:17 a.m.No one spoke at first.The room was one of those upgraded team suites — king bed pushed against the wall, pull-out couch already unfolded into a second bed, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the sleeping city. Bags dropped haphazardly by the door. Lights stayed off except for the soft blue glow from the TV on mute.Room reserved for just the top line.Riley stood in the middle of the room like he didn’t know where to put his hands. Still flushed from the bus. Sweats low on his hips. Hoodie unzipped. Eyes darting between the three men who’d just spent forty miles turning him inside out.Jaxon kicked off his sneakers first. Stretched like a cat, shirt riding up to show the fresh bruises Dima’s fingers had left on his hips earlier.“Kid looks like he’s about to bolt,” Jaxon said, voice lazy but eyes sharp. “You running, Riley?”Riley shook his head fast. “No. Just… processing.”Marek — still in his black hoodie, beard shadowed in the dim
The team bus hummed through the night, somewhere between Pittsburgh and Columbus. Lights dimmed low, most of the guys already passed out with hoodies pulled over faces or neck pillows strangling them. Headphones leaked tinny music. The occasional snore.Back row — the sacred territory — belonged to the top line plus one.Riley sat wedged between Dima and the window, still looking a little shell-shocked from the morning. Knees bouncing. Eyes darting. Every time the bus hit a bump his thigh pressed against Dima’s massive one, and he flinched like it burned.Jaxon sprawled across two seats opposite, legs spread wide, smirking at the rookie’s obvious nerves. Marek sat beside Jaxon, calm as ever, scrolling through scouting reports on his tablet like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t fucked Jaxon bent over a bench in front of a trembling twenty-year-old just hours ago.The bus driver called back, “Next stop in forty. Try not to destroy my vehicle, boys.”A few tired laughs from the front
The arena was dead quiet at 7:45 a.m. Sunday morning skate was optional, but the top line never skipped. Muscle memory. Discipline. Or maybe just the need to see each other’s faces after last night without the buffer of a full team.Marek was the first one to arrive. Just as always— black Under Armour hoodie up. His beard was still damp from the hotel shower. He dropped his bag by the bench and his eyes went around the empty rink. Scanning, like he was checking for landmines.Jaxon was the next one to show up. His hair was mussed. Hoodie sleeves pushed up to show the fresh ink that was curling around his forearms. Sunglasses were still on despite the dim tunnel lights. He walked with a slight hitch— subtle. But Marek still noticed it.Of course he did.“Morning cap.” Jaxon said to him. His voice was deliberately casual. Too casual. As he sat down beside Marek.Marek grunted. He didn’t even look at him yet. He just started tapping his stick.Dima lumbered in last. A full minute late— u
The buzzer cracked through the arena like a fired gun.Overtime. Game winner. Final score: 3–2.The crowd was still losing its mind as the last three skaters drifted off the ice together—Captain, Sniper, Enforcer. Always in that order. Always locked into the same rhythm that never broke.The rest of the team rushed ahead, voices loud, gloves flying, victory already turning into beers, interviews, and plans for the night. Within half a minute, the locker room was thinning out fast. Saturday routine.They didn’t join it.By the time that the heavy doors were closed shut behind them, the steam was already turning the air to fog. It was just the three of them now. The room was smelling like pads that was soaked with sweat. Muscle rub. And something that was heavier. Something that had been building since the season started.Jaxon rested back on his stall. His dark tattoos glowed on his wet skin. The water was dripping from his hair like he worked lazily at his skates laces. His lips were
Rhea’s povI walked back to the table with a smile already in place.Perfect. Easy. Practiced.My hands were steady. My shoulders relaxed. No one would ever guess what they had just done, what I had just done, what still hummed under my skin like a secret song.I turned the corner. My eye caught the table and there was no Marcus or Elliot either.They had probably stepped out too. I let out a long breathe. At least this was going to make walking easier.I reached the table.Elliot’s empty chair made my heart feel heavier. The realization of what I just did pressing down on me.For half a second, my movements slowed.I glanced at the seat, then around the table, keeping my face calm. Plates were still there. Glasses half-full. Nothing looked disturbed. Like no time had passed at all.I pulled out my chair to seat again. And just then—“Hey,” Marcus said, sliding into his chair right on cue. “Sorry. Took longer than I thought.”I looked at him.He smiled easily. Too easily.“Did I reall
Our lips met slow, deliberate, like we were testing the waters. Hers were soft, full, tasting faintly of the wine she'd been drinking—tart and sweet. I pressed in harder, my mouth opening against hers, and she responded right away, her tongue slipping past my lips, exploring with a confidence that made my pulse race. The kiss deepened fast, hungry, our breaths mingling hot and quick. Her hands slid up my back, fingers digging into my shoulders, holding me there.I pushed her back gently, guiding her toward the counter. She went willingly, her body yielding under my touch. The edge of the sink bumped against her hips, and she hopped up a little, sitting on the cool marble with her legs parting slightly. I stood between them, my hands on her thighs, sliding up under her skirt. The fabric was smooth, silky, and I bunched it higher, exposing more of her skin—pale and warm under my palms.She broke the kiss for a second, her eyes locked on mine, dark with want. 'Ivy...' she murmured, her v
“I didn’t—” My voice shook, my protest dying halfway. I swallowed hard. “Luca, I didn’t encourage him. I swear. You were watching… you saw me say no.”He leaned in, his face inches from mine now. I could feel his breath against my cheek, warm and heavy. His eyes dipped briefly to my lips before ris
The next morning, I stood in front of my closet longer than usual. My hands slid over the fabrics, but my mind was already made up. Today, I wasn’t just going to dress for work. I was going to dress for him. I pulled out my black pencil skirt, the one that always hugged my hips and thighs in a way
It was quick, soft, almost like testing the waters. I tried to step back immediately, embarrassed at my own boldness, my hands fumbling at my sides.But he didn’t let me.His hands slid to my waist, strong and warm, and in one smooth movement he pulled me against him so tightly I gasped. My lips p
I swallowed and nodded without thinking, my legs already moving to follow him. We walked together down the quiet hallway, and I could feel the eyes of people on us, but no one dared to say anything. When we reached his private garage, I saw his car—sleek, black, expensive-looking. It almost gleamed







