The Pucking Wrong Man: A Hockey Romance (The Pucking Wrong Series Book 4)

Me: I need help.

Ari: Shocking.

Logan: I do believe I said I had fulfilled all obligations for the rest of my eternity.

Logan: SHE SUCKED MY FINGER.

Linc: Whiner. A woman licks your finger, and you act like the world is ending.

Ari: This guy.

Logan: She’s seventy-five years old!

Me: We don’t need this kind of negativity this morning, Rookie. And don’t be ageist.

Ari: Good point.

Ari Lancaster removed Logan York from the chat.

Igrinned as Logan sent me a middle finger emoji right after in a different text.

Me: Sorry, COT rules. One does not complain when a woman sucks on your finger.

Logan: I hate all of you.

Me: Why aren’t you texting Ari this? He’s the one who took you out of the chat.

Logan: …

Logan: He blocked me.

I laughed uproariously at that and then went back to the important conversation I was having in the group chat.

Me: Back to actual important things…

Ari: I would just like to say that a friend in need is a pest, Hero.

Walker: Agreed.

Ari: Disney. You simp.

Walker: I was agreeing with you!

Ari: Oh, right.

Linc: Can we focus? I have…things to do.

Ari: Would this “thing” have anything to do with the fact that Monroe has class today with a certain professor…

Linc:

Hmmm. I was intrigued by that story. But also a little terrified for the professor. Lincoln Daniels could be…scary.

A perfect use of “…” right there.

Me: Which one of your wives has done ballet? There has to be one of them.

Linc: Developed an interest in the arts, Hero?

Ari: Or is this one of those “dogs” things. If so, I’m out.

Walker: In all fairness, it was actually dogs.

I rolled my eyes. This was going to take forever at this pace. I added Logan back to the chat, just in case he knew something about ballet. I was quite positive one of his puck bunnies in pre-season had been a dancer of some sort.

Hmm…maybe she had actually been a stripper.

Me: As I was saying…do any of your wives know about ballet?

Ari: Hero, what did I say about radiuses?

Me: What?

Ari: R-A-D-I-U-S-E-S

Logan: How long did that take you to type out?

Linc: Who invited Rookie in here again?

Walker: Not me!

Ari: You know, Disney, you don’t have to be the first to respond to Lincoln.

Walker: …

Logan: What a simp.

Logan: Ari…thanks for unblocking me

Walker Davis removed Logan York from the chat.

Me: I believe radii is the plural of radius.

Ari: What?

Me: You spelled radiuses. That’s not a word.

Linc: He was probably trying to spell radishes. That is a word.

Ari: I hate you both. And no that’s NOT what I was trying to say. Who would ever put radishes in a text?

Walker: I have!

Linc: …

Ari: …

Me: …

Me: I did that one right!

Me: Now, what were you saying about radii?

Ari: …

Walker: That there’s no need to involve the wives and break your six-foot radius requirement.

I frowned.

Me: Texting you about them is breaking my requirement?

Linc: Absolutely.

Well then.

Ari: But don’t worry. No need for the wives. I took a ballet class in college.

Walker: What?

Ari: It helped with my footwork and…

There was a really long pause after that, and I was wondering if Blake had come in and distracted him. That happened a lot. He would just disappear.

While I was waiting, I checked her tracker to make sure she was still at dance. Before dropping her off this morning, I’d given her an iPhone in the car. She’d tried to refuse it—of course. But I’d told her it was an old one that someone had given me in a promo package. A lie…but it had gotten her to take it so she could text me when I was supposed to pick her up.

I may have also omitted the fact that I’d installed a tracking app on there, so I didn’t have to worry about her finding the original tracking device I’d put in her bag yesterday.

My phone buzzed.

Linc: What Ari was trying to say was that it helped him with his footwork and..

Ari: Don’t finish that train of thought, Golden Boy. There are no other women that exist in the world besides Blake Lancaster.

Walker: What about Geraldine?

Ari: …

Ari: And Geraldine.

Me: Alright…thirty minutes later. I doubt you will know this, but what are all the best brands for ballet dancers if I was taking a ballet dancer shopping.

Linc: I have to say, Hero. Dogs and ballet. I never would have thought…

I grinned, feeling strangely giddy about being such a psychopath this morning.

Ari: Capezio, Bloch, Miu Miu, Gaynor Minden. Boom. Mic drop.

Me: Alright then. I have to say that we’re learning all sorts of things about each other in the circle of trust lately.

I snorted when Ari removed me from the chat and then sent me a meme with a circle labeled “circle of trust” with a dot outside of it that he’d labeled Camden.

I sent him one back with the dot firmly inside before beginning my search of where all those brands were sold.

I had a little dancer to spoil.

Anastasia

It would have been a small thing to most people, having someone waiting for me after dance. But it was a huge thing for me.

For as long as I could really remember, I’d had to get myself home after class. Walk or take the bus to whatever home or job I was going to.

It was a giddy feeling to step outside and see Camden in his lifted, fancy-looking black truck, waiting at the curb for me.

He waved the second he saw me, hopping out and jogging to where I was on the sidewalk.

I blushed as I looked at him, averting my gaze when he brushed a strand of hair out of my face that had escaped from the messy bun I’d thrown my hair up in after class.

I knew what those fingers could do now. I knew what those lips tasted like.

It was hard to meet his gaze.

He tipped up my chin so I had to look at him, pressing a soft kiss on my lips that had me melting against him with a soft sigh.

“Hi,” I whispered, after he’d lifted his face away from me.

“Hi, little dancer,” he murmured back, playfully batting at the mess of hair on my head. “I like this. It’s sexy.”

Ugh. Was I still breathing? How did I do that again? He was too charming. Too sexy. Too much.

I was in big trouble.

“Thanks,” I said, my voice sounding high and breathy as he tangled his hand with mine and led me to the truck.

Is this what we were doing? Two orgasms against his wall, and now he was holding hands with me?

This was another one of those “pinch me moments” because things like this didn’t happen to a girl like me.

Camden opened the truck door and lifted me up onto the seat. I stared at him, amused, as he fussed with the seatbelt, pulling it over my lap and clicking it in.

“Are you going to start getting me dressed every morning too?” I asked, reddening all over again when his gaze heated like he very much liked that idea.

“Mmmh,” he mused, smiling at me wickedly.

I was a puddle in my seat when he shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

I can’t believe I thought about not texting him when I was done with class. I would have missed out on this.

Camden started the truck and pulled away from the curb, and I got caught down memory lane, voices in the past telling me over and over again I was a burden.

“Do you know how lucky you are we took you in and kept you off the streets?” Mrs. Carver snarled as she stared down at the broken vase at my feet. I hadn’t even broken the vase—Michael had and then he’d blamed it on me. But I couldn’t tell Mrs. Carver that. “We pay for food, for clothes…we put a roof over your head. And this is how you repay us?”

This is how you repay us?

This is how you repay us?

The words repeated in my head over and over again—though not even close to how many times I’d heard it from them.

I’d never wanted to feel indebted to anyone again.

I needed to remember that with Camden. There was always a point where things changed, when it went from a favor to a curse.

“What are you thinking about over there? You look like Geraldine when she lost her British Bake Off competition against Mrs. Hennie.”

“Geraldine?”

He snorted. “I forgot you haven’t met her yet. I’ve been so wrapped up in you these last few weeks, it seems weird you don’t know my whole life already.”

Ugh. This was why I needed to be careful. Because he said things like that.

“So, where are we going?” I chirped, trying to sound excited even though that particular memory had definitely brought down my mood.

“Shopping,” he said, flashing me a sexy grin.

I stiffened, my eyes widening. No. No. No. No. He was not allowed to take me shopping. “I’d rather not,” I told him softly. “I…I don’t want to feel like I owe you anymore than I already do.”

He paused, his eyebrows going up nearly to his hairline like I’d caught him off guard.

“This part of the date is actually what comes with my sponsorship of the Company,” he finally said smoothly.

“A shopping trip comes with the sponsorship?” I asked dubiously.

He nodded, and I got a little lost staring at how hot he looked while driving. One thing I’d noticed about Camden, he always looked perfectly in control in every situation. Like he was the master of his domain…of the world.

I’d never felt like that.

“Every dancer at the Company gets a stipend for clothes. I just thought it would be fun for us to include that as part of our date,” he was saying as I struggled to not picture him naked.

I guess that sounded legitimate. A hockey player sponsoring a ballet company was different to begin with, so it would make sense that maybe the sponsorship itself would have some things a little out of the ordinary as well.

“Alright, if everyone is getting a stipend,” I said slowly. “Although, I’m pretty sure that your sponsorship had something to do with me as well.” I raised an eyebrow, daring him to refute that.

“Anastasia Lennox, are you accusing me of not being a patron of the arts?” He placed a hand on his chest, pretending I’d hurt him.

I giggled, abruptly stopping because the sound felt so foreign coming out of my mouth.

“My second favorite sound,” he mused, turning into the parking lot of a high-end shopping center that gave me hives just being near it.

“What’s your favorite sound?” I asked, distracted when I saw Grand Prix, a dance store I’d only ever dreamed about going to. It had all the best brands, Capezio, Bloch, Miu Miu… Were we really shopping there?

I realized he hadn’t answered me, and I glanced over, seeing the small, sexy smirk on his lips as he stared at me like something was amusing him. His door was open, and he had one leg out of the cab.

“Are you not going to tell me?” I asked with a laugh, going to open my door. He clicked the lock.

“Don’t move,” he growled, shutting his door and jogging around to open mine.

There was a glittery feeling forcing its way into my veins as he helped me out. Like I was precious. Like he was scared I would get injured and he couldn’t take it.

Like I meant something.

“You wanted to know my favorite sound…” he murmured, pressing me against the truck as he leaned his weight against me. His lips danced across my neck, and I shivered at the feeling. I loved how much bigger he was than me. It felt like he could slay all my monsters, save me from the world.

Definite “Daddy” energy.

“Yes, sir,” I gasped, unable to even care about the other shoppers staring at us right then.

“It’s the sound of you coming, of course,” he purred, abruptly straightening and taking a step away.

Thank fuck for my sweatpants. There was definitely a wet spot on this leotard after that little moment, and I didn’t need everyone seeing it.

Or maybe it wouldn’t even be a thing.

Anyone would have a wet spot when faced with a god like Camden James.

He was humming softly under his breath as he peeled me off the truck and led me toward Grand Prix, his hand once again holding mine.

What followed after that was like I’d stepped into a fairytale. Even if this was part of the sponsorship, and everyone was getting money to do this—I’d never had anything like this happen to me before.

Anything I looked at, he had the store attendant grab. Leotards and shoes, sweats and leggings, and pretty clips for my hair. Workout sets and navy-blue silk pajamas that made me want to cry with how soft they were. Camden claimed they would help me sleep better and thus dance better, and so in the pile they went.

It went on and on like this and continued after we’d left the store.

“Where are we going now?” I whisper-yelled because we’d just spent an obscene amount of money, and I was feeling a little crazy about it. I needed to get back to his penthouse and clean something or cook dinner. There was no way that all of this came with the sponsorship. My skin felt tight across my bones.

“We need to get stuff for your bedroom,” he said calmly, like it was nothing as we walked to another high-end store in the shopping center.

I stopped in my tracks, and his body rocked back as I pulled on his hand—that had once again been holding mine. “What? No! Absolutely not. You may have used the sponsorship as an excuse to buy all that stuff, but there’s no way that things for my bedroom are included in that.”

“And by the way,” I said, gesturing wildly in the air with my free hand, “that is not my bedroom. That is your guest room. Where I am staying as a guest.” My chest was heaving, and I probably looked insane as I finished, wide-eyed and sweating slightly.

A beautiful sight, I’m sure.

“Those sheets are scratchy,” he said matter of factly. “You can’t dance when you sleep on scratchy sheets.”

“I was sleeping on a cot in a homeless shelter. Those are the definition of scratchy sheets,” I hissed loudly, ducking my head when I caught someone’s stare.

We were standing in the tiled corridor that connected all the stores. There was a fancy fountain behind us and white lights strung everywhere.

“If you don’t let me buy my favorite sheets in purple—because that’s your favorite color, I’m going to put you over my knee and spank you because you’re being a brat.” Camden’s face was perfectly expressionless as he said that, as if it was normal everyday behavior to tell another grown adult you were going to spank them.

Examining Camden’s face, though…maybe it was.

And why was my leotard soaking wet again at the thought of it?

I bet he’d make me feel so good after the pain.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, once again, crowding against me, even though there were people passing us on the left and right. “You like that idea…me spanking you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I huffed, trying to yank my hand away to hide the fact that my nipples were like diamonds popping out through my top.

As if he could read my mind, his eyes darted down to my chest, and he growled softly, his gaze searching around like he was looking for anyone daring to stare.

“Let’s just zip this up,” he said, as he pulled my jacket together and zipped it up to my chin.

I made a choking sound and swatted his hand away, pulling it down to a less chokeworthy level.

“Shall we proceed?” he asked, a wide, mocking smirk on his face because he knew he’d won.

I nodded, feeling like the brat he’d called me at the moment.

Normal people accepted gifts. I could do it. I could be normal.

We walked hand in hand to a home store, and I immediately messed up by glancing at a few things that had caught my eye. They somehow ended up in the basket. I wanted to object, because that furry rug and that gold frame was not a set of purple sheets. But the attendant was drooling over Camden as we walked, and I didn’t want to make a scene by refusing them.

Maybe you are a user, just like Michael said…

The voice was loud, but I tried to block it out, just like I tried not to tear up when I touched sheets that felt like heaven.

I failed at both.

Later that night, Camden came into my room which was now stuffed full of all the new things he’d bought me. He’d also grilled me steak for dinner—that literally melted on my tongue—and cheesy potatoes that I could have eaten every day.

It had been the best day of my life.

“Goodnight, little dancer,” Camden said as he literally tucked me into bed and pulled my new sheets up to my chin, his eyes burning with an emotion I didn’t understand. He pressed a soft kiss against my lips, and I wanted to ask him to stay. But I didn’t.

Soon.

Soon, I’d be brave enough to ask Camden James to come to bed with me.

Just not tonight…