Novelas y relatos de Puck Me

Don’t ask me her name because I have no fucking idea. She’s a hook up, a puck bunny. They’re everywhere and trust me when I say they literally drop their panties at the sight of a hockey player, especially me. I’m just your average guy who got lucky with a stick and worked damn hard from a young age. I’ll come back to all of that later.

The hum of fluorescent lights and the gentle whir of computer fans filled the air as I stared at the clock on my desktop. 5:58 PM. Two more minutes until freedom. I drummed my fingers on my desk, my other hand absently twirling a strand of my mousy brown hair. "Emilia! Got a sec?" I jumped, nearly knocking over my "World's Okayest Engineer" mug. Mary Bee, my best friend and the marketing department's golden girl, was leaning against my cubicle, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Hawk has an arm around mine which is in full punch mode. “Go fuck your mother.” I yell at the asshole who has cornered me, the puck was mine, it was mine for the taking and it would have been a good shot. Sometimes, it can pretty mean and nasty on the ice like today. The guys we’re playing are total fuckers.

He eyed the mountain of toppings with something akin to bliss. She waited until he’d grabbed the first piece before she carefully took a slice and nibbled on the end. It was, in a word, sheer heaven. She leaned back and waited for Bryce to down the first slice. When he was on his second, he turned and said around a mouthful of pizza, “So what’s this favor you need?” She sat forward, putting half the slice down on a napkin. “You know, I kinda already told you about it before. I have this client…..well he’s a client I want to land. Timothy Kavell - Packard.”

"They don't have memories or scars. They have only the Equations of Victory." The Origin SixArchetypeThe Feral Counterpart EntropyThe Void-CenterElara (Absolute Zero) FusionThe Plasma-WingKael (Primal Fire) GravityThe AnchorZane (Tectonic Bond) VectorThe Dual-StrikersJax & Cole (Kinetic Pulse) LogicThe TacticianRhys (Data/Logic) The Puck of Destiny In the center of the dark-matter rink, a sphere of compressed neutronium materialized. It was the "Puck"—a dying star condensed into a three-foot shell. It emitted a gravitational pull so intense it warped the light around it.

Skates scraped the ice in approval. “And since some people clearly can’t take a hint, let me spell it out....I've chosen Cessy McKennel as my mate. Cessy, come here baby.....” Derek still goin on. Someone shouted, "About time!" and vicious laughter tore through the crowd. As for me, I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but feel the agony of Derek’s rejection tearing me apart. My hand clutched my chest, trying to hold together the pieces of something that was already broken.

“Well, someone's all flared up. I can almost see how the hair on your neck stands out. Makes me start to think your wolf really is weaker. You're definitely not a beta.” “That is none of your business.” “The required rank to join hockey teams in this pack stops at Beta. You're not one. That's really shady. Really really shady.” And then, I heard the sound of the blade scratching the ice and the puck running out of my hold. I let out a grunt before turning around. My eyes stayed pinned on his backview. That bastard. I started skating hurriedly. I had to get back the puck and win. A lot was at risk.

me up. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Then I’m a bad liar and so are you.” --- The puck bunny appeared at 11:07. She materialized the way puck bunnies always materialized at hockey-house parties—not walking, not approaching, just *arriving*, as if the building had a ventilation system that pumped them in through the ducts when the alcohol level reached a certain threshold. Blonde. Tight black dress that was more suggestion than garment. Heels that made no sense in a basement with a piss pool. Eyes that moved across the room with the practiced efficiency of a scanner looking for the highest-value target.

"A relationship profile." Hunter leaned over. "Oh." Maya pointed at him. "No. Don't 'oh' me. Why are you saying that like it's normal?" "It is normal." He shrugged. "It is absolutely not." Sarah cleared her throat. "It is now." Maya hated everyone in this room. Possibly herself most of all. She opened the packet and Immediately regretted it. The first page contained questions. Lots of questions. Like favorite food. Favorite color. Favorite movie. Pet peeves. Childhood memories. Family members. Important dates.