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

An alarm was ringing. Who set an alarm that annoying?

I blinked blearily, staring up at the ceiling. It was still dark outside. Why was the alarm going off when it was still dark outside?

Glancing around the room, I finally realized that the alarm was coming from the nightstand next to me; that fancy phone Camden had given me was buzzing and making the racket.

I had been the one to set the alarm.

I pressed random buttons on the phone until it finally stopped, and then I flopped back onto the bed, tempted to try and go back to sleep.

Okay, no. I’d set this alarm because I wanted to workout before Camden woke up. Rise and shine it was.

Sitting up wearily, I winced as pain shot through my leg. I hadn’t stretched enough yesterday after class, and I was definitely feeling it. Leaning forward, I reached toward my toes, trying to push away the ache.

Ringggg. Ringggg.

I almost fell off the bed when the alarm started up again, the shrill noise piercing the silence of the house like a knife through butter, slicing through the tranquil morning air. It was as if a banshee had taken up residence within the walls, her wailing cries echoing off the pristine surfaces and reverberating through me.

I growled at the phone as I poked a different button than the one I’d pressed last time. I really needed to learn how to use this thing…even if it was just temporary. As soon as I got my feet back under me, I was going to get one of those prepaid phones, and I’d give this one back to Camden.

I didn’t even want to guess how much the thing had cost. It was like a spaceship.

Dragging myself out of bed, I quickly changed into a sports bra and leggings, then headed out of the room, inching the door open so I could listen for any signs of life.

Was it ridiculous that I was checking to see if he was out there? Yes, yes it was. But since I could barely form words around him when I was fully awake, I was hoping to avoid any awkward encounters when I was half asleep.

I made my way through the penthouse, shrugging off the awkwardness I felt as I passed through it. It still didn’t feel real that I was staying here. The opulence of his home was overwhelming, each room perfect and pristine. I was never going to stop feeling out of place here.

And when I moved out…soon…it was going to be painful. Because now I was going to compare every dingy and decrepit place I lived in to this place.

Just like I was going to compare every man I met for the rest of my life to the perfection that was Camden James.

I was quite sure that they would also be…lacking.

The hallways stretched on for what felt like miles, the sound of my footsteps echoing around me as I crept through the silent penthouse. Sunlight was starting to filter in through the windows, casting long shadows across the polished floors.

Where the crap was the workout room? He’d shown me the other day, but it felt like there were a million rooms in this place.

As I turned a corner, the sound of music caught my attention, a pounding rhythm that reverberated through the walls. Intrigued, I followed the sound, my curiosity getting the better of me as it took me right to…the gym I’d been looking for.

I found myself standing outside of the glass double doors, gaping at the sight in front of me.

Camden was on a bench, shirtless. His perfect chest glistening with sweat, his muscles rippling with each movement as he lifted a bar stacked with weights. The room was filled with the sound of rock music, pounding as he worked out with single-minded focus.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him, the sight of his chiseled chest and sculpted arms sending a rush of heat pulsing between my legs. It was like something out of a dream, a fantasy come to life before my very eyes.

He hadn’t noticed me, too intent on his workout to look up and see my reflection in the glass. Although my brain was screaming at me to scurry away…I couldn’t get the rest of my body to listen.

I hovered in the doorway, unable to tear my gaze away from him.

I was used to men’s bodies. While growing up, there were always quite a few male dancers in my classes, and their leotards left very little to the imagination.

But they had not prepared me for Camden. This was a man.

And oh my gosh he was beautiful.

The music changed to some rap song I faintly recognized, and it was enough to push me to move.

But then, just as I was about to turn and leave, our eyes locked in the mirror.

His gaze darkened, an unreadable expression settling onto his face.

“Anastasia,” he said, and somehow his deep, silky voice cut right through the noise of the music, settling into my veins and sending sparks pirouetting through my bloodstream.

I was tempted to run. Embarrassing or not, it was probably safest to turn and sprint down the hall. Showing my face in a couple of hours when I had time to process the masculine hotness in front of me.

“Anastasia,” Camden repeated, this time in a knowing voice, like he could see inside my brain and see all the dirty, dirty thoughts I was having right now as I gaped at him.

Speaking of gaping, I snapped my mouth shut realizing that my jaw had been hanging open like some kind of demented fish. Cheeks flushing, I finally opened the glass door and stepped inside the room.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you this early,” he murmured as he racked his weights and turned on the bench to stare at me appraisingly. His gaze dragged from my feet to my face, seeming to grace every curve—or lack of—on my body. My nipples hardened into tight points beneath my thin sports bra, and I swear his gaze burned when it brushed against my chest.

Stay cool, girl. Think of something cold. Ice. Ice…hockey…him doing stretches… No! Not cold. Think of something bad.

That was helpful, one thought of Michael, and my arousal went down like the air let out of a balloon.

“I thought I would get in an early workout,” I said belatedly, realizing that he was waiting for a reply. I was proud of myself when my words came out in English. That was tough around him.

I wiped at my forehead, feeling simultaneously like I was wearing too much and too little clothes at the moment. Camden’s gaze lingered on me, his eyes smoldering with a heat that set my skin ablaze. If he could just stop staring at me like he wanted to eat me, maybe I would be capable of forming rational thoughts.

“Have at it,” he said…but was that a hint of a growl in his voice?

Yes, Daddy, my inner voice purred.

Holy crap what is wrong with me?

“Okay,” I said, wincing at the nervous squeak in my voice. Did he hear that?

Judging by the slight smirk on his lips, I was betting he did. And could he see the way my legs were already shaking as I walked over to the mats?

This was a very bad idea.

I began some of my simpler stretches, figuring I would start slow—less chance of embarrassing myself even more. I tried to concentrate on what I was doing…tried to keep my gaze firmly on the floor.

But it was an impossible task.

He’d resumed his workout, his muscles flexing with each movement, and it was like he had some kind of tractor beam in his biceps because I couldn’t stop myself from staring.

And that would have been fine…

If he wasn’t staring right back.

Intensely. Like he couldn’t not look.

His gaze stoked a fire deep within my core, and I was worried about the state of my underwear. These leggings were thinnnn. Sure to show my arousal if I didn’t control myself.

My hands were trembling as I reached down for the floor, the music pulsing in the background like a heartbeat.

I twisted and turned, my body straining with the effort.

Was it hard to breathe in here…or was that just me? The air between us seemed to crackle with electricity, charged and tense in a way that was leaving me breathless and dizzy.

“When’s your next show?” he asked casually, and I almost swallowed my tongue trying to answer him.

Show. When was my show?

What show exactly?

He grinned and my head swam.

“Soon,” I choked out as he strode toward the treadmill.

An ass like that should be illegal, I decided as he stepped onto the machine.

Don’t stare at his ass anymore! I hissed to myself as I jerked my gaze away. I attempted to distract myself by staring around the gym. I’d seen it briefly in that first tour, but looking at it now, it was just another reminder of how in over my head I was in this home.

The gym was a marvel, a wonderland of fitness that would fit any athlete’s dream. It had everything you could possibly need or want, all neatly arranged in a space that oozed luxury and functionality. There were literal rows of gleaming equipment, like he was expecting his entire team to show up for a workout.

Hell, maybe that did happen. I couldn’t imagine that their arena gym was as nice as this.

The thought made me feel a bit faint.

In one corner there was even a sauna. And was that an ice bath? My leg groaned as I pushed it, as if it were reminding me how nice that would be to soak in after a day of classes.

I was still not convinced I wasn’t imagining all of this.

My gaze darted back to Camden’s ass, and I decided I must be.

With each stretch, I pushed myself to go deeper, the ache in my muscles a welcome distraction from the intensity of Camden’s gaze.

I turned to do another stretch⁠—

“Fuck!” Camden cursed as a hard thud sounded in the room as something hit the floor.

Twirling around, my gaze dropped when I realized the thunk had been Camden falling off the treadmill.

“Are you okay?” I asked as I rushed to his side, my hands shaking with adrenaline as I helped him to his feet. Camden winced as he straightened up, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he rubbed his side where he had landed awkwardly.

He sighed as his head fell back, eyes glued to the ceiling for a moment before he tipped his chin down and met me gaze.

Ohhhh. I inhaled sharply at the primal lust in his eyes. Camden’s lips curled into a sexy half-smile. “I’ll live,” he finally muttered, his voice low and husky. “Maybe.”

I backed away like I’d been burned, hustling back over the mats before I did something crazy…like jump him.

Camden

This was hell. Obviously, all those good deeds I’d done in my life hadn’t held much weight because watching her in those tight yoga pants was literally going to kill me.

I’d thought I was hallucinating when I’d glanced at the mirror and saw her standing at the doors. I hadn’t been able to sleep after I’d finally tasted her yesterday, and rather than break into her room and ravage her…I’d come down to the gym.

It had seemed like a solid plan until she’d appeared.

Anastasia’s tits looked fucking incredible in that sports bra. I couldn’t help but think about diving in every time I glanced over. There was no padding in that thing. When her nipples had pushed through the fabric…well my dirty thoughts must have been why I was being punished right now.

It wasn’t my fault that I’d fallen off the treadmill. What was a guy supposed to do when faced with that kind of perfection? She’d been faced away from me, her lithe body changing my life.

I wasn’t an ass or tits man anymore. I was an Anastasia man. Her body was life-altering, mind-blowing, oxygen-stealing.

Of course I’d fallen off the damn treadmill. I was just lucky I hadn’t been operating any machinery or lifting weights when she’d turned and showed me that ass.

I definitely would have died.

But what a way to go…with the sight of her in my eyes.