Journalists and public figures weren’t supposed to mix, but I couldn’t keep myself away from her. There was something there, drawing me in like a moth to a flame. I wanted to know more about her.
The poor woman had looked scared to death when Klaus wrenched the locker door open. I could smell the fear rolling off of her in waves.
I’d been torn between chastising him and laughing. I was used to how he could be sometimes. For just over a year, I’d been secretly mated to him. I knew him better than anyone else. Almost everyone was a little frightened of him, but the big scary krampus was also secretly a teddy-bear.
Holly would see that side of him soon, I was sure. Her getting stuck in the lockers while we’d happened to be in the room had been a twist of fate.
All I’d been able to think about was what our date would be like. What we would learn about her. I wanted to know everything.
What was her favorite color? Her favorite ice cream? Did she like rom-coms or action movies or something else?
We’d find out soon.
“Flurry!” Coach barked from across the ice, snapping me from my Holly-filled daze. “Quit day-dreaming. Get your ass over here.”
The old gargoyle was working us hard to prepare for the playoffs. Last year, injuries plagued the team, and after failing to make it to the finals, they brought in some fresh blood. I had a lot to prove as the first-round draft pick vying for the starting line. Perhaps it was a crazy goal, but I liked to dream.
It just so happened that the monster I was fighting for the starting line was the same monster I was fucking.
Klaus “The Powerhouse” Bauer was a nine foot tall wall of muscle with a heart full of hellfire. In his prime, he dominated the ice. He’d slap goals left and right and never backed down from a fight. He was a nasty old Krampus, but if last season was any indication, his age was finally catching up to him. Monsters might have a longer life than humans naturally did, but even we hit a point where retiring was necessary, especially in a sport that demanded everything from our bodies.
I skated to the other end of the rink where Coach stood with Klaus in front of the goal. Our orc goalie, Ehrokk, was splayed out between the posts, stretching his groin and humping the ice. I’d played hockey all my life, but I still found that stretch hilarious.
Coach looked at us and smirked. “Ehrokk here needs to get warmed up. I was thinking we could have a little shootout.”
Klaus’ helmet obscured most of his face, but I could tell from the wrinkles etched between his eyebrows that he was scowling. Normally, he was the one who warmed up Ehrokk, and Coach wanted us to have a shootout? This was going to be interesting.
“I love shootouts.” I smiled sweetly and looked over at Klaus. “You know, I lead the minor league in shootout goals.”
“That was the fucking minors,” Klaus snapped, glaring at me like he wanted me to spontaneously combust.
Either that, or he was thinking about fucking me. Both possibilities excited me.
My skills on the ice always struck a nerve with the old man. I loved him more than anyone else, but when we were on the ice, I liked to press every button I possibly could. It wasn’t like we could show any sort of tenderness anyway, given that being mated was a secret from the world.
“Enough chit chat,” Coach bellowed. “Get on the line and shoot on the fucking goal.”
With a paint bucket full of pucks separating us, I took one side of the line and Klaus took the other. Ehrokk stood between the posts and snapped his neck from side to side.
Coach leaned up against the boards. “You’re up first Flurry.”
I puffed out a breath and dropped the puck on the ice in front of me. Knowing that Klaus was laser focused on my every move, I gave my hips a little wiggle before slapping the puck, hoping my body would throw him off his game.
The puck soared through the air, ricocheted off the top bar with a metallic ping, and landed in the net.
“Fuck,” Ehrokk said, thumping his gloved fists against his helmet.
The guy was good, but I’d been studying him for weeks. The top left corner was his weak spot.
“You’re up, Powerhouse.” I didn’t keep the teasing tone out of my voice.
Without any dramatics, Klaus threw the puck on the ice, barely letting it stop bouncing before his stick made contact. It flew across the ice and Ehrokk dropped to his knees in an attempt to stop it, but it zipped right past his stick and into the goal.
This was why Klaus had kept the starting position for so long. He made it look effortless. I swallowed hard, wondering how long it would take for me to do that with such ease.
“Nice one,” I said, meaning every word.
Inside, I was still that hockey obsessed kid who fawned over his idols.
“Fuck you,” he growled.
I lowered my voice to a whisper so only Klaus could hear. “No, that was yesterday. Today I’m fucking you.”
Klaus’ tail slapped against the ice like a whip and he stared straight at the goal, refusing to look at me. It was too easy. I was already getting him flustered.
Plucking another puck from the bucket, I tossed it down on the ice and gave it a whack. Again, the puck soared through the air, whizzing by Ehrokk’s glove and into the net.
“For fuck’s sake, Ehrokk,” Coach said, slapping his clipboard against his thigh. “How many times do I have to tell you to watch that left side?”
“Sorry, Coach.” The orc shook out his body, readying himself for Klaus’ shot.
Again, Klaus placed the puck onto the ice, letting out a sigh as he slapped it with his stick. He might have lacked enthusiasm, but it was another picture perfect goal, slipping right past Ehrokk’s knee and into the net.
I raised my brows and gave Klaus a tusky grin.
The old man still had it.
I grabbed a puck from the bucket and sat it on the ice, readying myself for my last shot. I needed to make this one. I had to.
Focusing myself with a deep breath, I hit the puck with as much force as I could pack into my shot. It jetted towards the goal, leaving a trail etched in the ice behind it. Ehrokk tried to track it, but it was too fast. It sped between his spread legs and into the goal before he could clamp them shut.
“Gods damn it, Ehrokk!” Coach thundered.
While Coach ripped Ehrokk a new one about keeping his legs closed and watching his left side, I took the opportunity to taunt Klaus.
“You know I’m coming for that starting spot, don’t you?” I leaned against my stick casually, like I wasn’t stressed about making the shot two seconds prior.
A deep growl rumbled out of Klaus’ chest. “Over my dead body.”
“What’s up your ass today?” I asked him with a smile, knowing that later it would be my cock.
“Stop it,” he snarled. “Don’t say another fucking word.” I could feel his anger and frustration, as well as his underlying lust.
Coach left Ehrokk, calling out to us. “Again, boys.”
“You know, maybe we could do that later. Put on a little show for Holly again. You smelled how much she liked it.”
Klaus hit the puck so hard it cut through the air like a bullet. Ehrokk just happened to be in the line of fire. The puck made contact, and he crumbled to the ground.
“Motherfucker,” he gasped, clutching his stomach.