All Chapters of Pucking The Alpha’s Daughter: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

JayMoonlight spills through the tall window of her father’s office and lands on Madison. It brushes across the warm gold of her skin, lighting the curve of her breasts and the hollow of her throat in a way that makes it impossible to look anywhere else.Madison’s legs tighten around my waist where she sits on the edge of the desk, the movement pulling me closer until our bodies press flush together. My cock throbs beneath my pants, painfully aware of every inch of her pressed against me.My hands slide instinctively to her hips, fingers curling into the soft curve of them as I stare down at her.Moon Goddess. I’ve known this girl my whole life.And now she’s sitting here in front of me in a dress that barely covers the top of her thighs, something dangerous glinting in her eyes, her breathing uneven like she already knows we’ll both regret.“Still time to walk out,” I say quietly. My voice comes out rougher than I meant it to.Madison tilts her chin up slightly. That stubborn little

Jay Ten Years Later…The first thing you learn in the NHL is that nobody gives a damn about where you came from. Not your junior stats. Not your hometown. Not the rink you grew up freezing your ass off in while your parents screamed from the bleachers.The only thing that matters in this league is what you do on the ice and for the last ten years, I’ve been answering that question the same way every night. I’ve made damn sure everyone knows exactly who Jay Mercer is and what he can do.The Tampa Bay Bolts locker room smells the same as every other NHL locker room in existence. Fresh tape, sharpened steel and hard sweat.Skates clatter against the rubber floors while guys move through the room finishing practice rituals. Sticks knock together, guys chirp each other across the room and someone blasts music in the corner that’s way too loud for ten in the morning.I lean back against my metal locker and roll my shoulders once, feeling the lingering burn in my muscles from practice. Co

JayI swore I’d never be back.I left this state before sunrise with a duffel bag and a bad decision. Now, I’m driving back into Dallas on a multi-million-dollar contract.Life’s sure got a sense of humor.Dallas didn’t just trade for me, they signed me for eight years. Which means I’m not visiting or just passing through. Dallas just became home again.Traffic slows and a line of brake lights flare red in front of me. I strum my fingers against the steering wheel, crawling forward with the rest of Dallas while the skyline carefully rises in the distance.The city looks bigger than I remember. Steel skeletons stretch into the sky where empty lots once sat as cranes hang over the downtown core. I run my hand through my tousled dark hair. Dallas changed. But people, in my experience, usually don’t.“Walker built this team,” the sports radio guy continues. “He changed the culture here. Made Dallas a hard team to play against. But Mercer — Mercer is the kind of player who changes a game i

Madison  My mind drifts back to the last time I saw him. How he trailed his lips down the column of my neck or the way his hands held me in place as he stared down at me with those crystal blue eyes. Eventually, my father steers it where he usually does when emotions run too hot—pack business. It helps drag me out of my thoughts. “Rogue activity has been heavier near the north line,” he says to Adrian. “Have you seen movement on your side?” Adrian nods once, dabbing the corner of his lips with a napkin. “Twice in the last month. Smaller groups. Testing boundaries more than attacking.” Nash’s expression sharpens with something familiar and easier for him than family tension. Strategy, Violence and Solutions. Exactly in that order. “They’re getting bolder,” he says. “Too comfortable.” “They always do this time of year,” my

Jay  I glance over to the table in the back and recognize half the team sitting there. Some new faces, some that I already met. I fetch a beer from the bartender and walk over to the table filled with my new teammates because running is what got me into this mess in the first place. “Miss me?” I ask. “Like a bad injury,” one of them says. “Yeah,” another adds. “We were just saying the locker room felt too peaceful lately.” Ryan kicks an empty chair out from the table toward me. “You can take my chair since you already took my spot on the power play.” A couple guys laugh. I drop into the chair and set my beer on the table. “I don’t remember asking for either.” Ryan points at me. “Oh, you don’t ask. You just show up and suddenly coach