Chapter 10

SOPHIA

Holy fucking Skittles and that damn rainbow.

A quick glance over my shoulder did more than a damn pinch could've ever done.

#77

Right there on my ass, which also carried the slightest faint handprint. If you knew where to look.

And God, did I know where to look.

Even if the damn orgasm hadn't rocked my world followed by another right after, I might've thought the whole thing a fantasy or dream until I snuck into the bathroom the next morning before Jules came back to the room. I could lie to myself all I wanted, but that number?

Pretty sure I didn't write Max Fucking Vaughn's number on my right ass cheek and definitely didn't spank myself…not to mention, no matter how hard I tried (and try I sure as hell did), my self-induced orgasms hadn't given me the post blissed out haze Max gave me last night after he followed me to my room. Even before he knocked, I could sense him outside the door.

My body was so attuned to him that my traitorous pussy practically throbbed at the idea of wearing Hale's jersey because she knew he couldn't stop himself from reminding me, once again, how much she loved it when he…gave me lessons. I couldn't call it punishment because I had fucking loved it. Every spanking and word and moan and God knows what else he wrung from me.

After I finally came down and my body ceased trembling, I bonelessly let him clean me up, tuck me into bed, but not before he placed Jules' key card next to my head. A last possessive and soul searing kiss along with the word mine whispered against my lips, and Max left the room. And me, snuggled up and in a Revenge hoodie from my bag.

Hale's jersey rumpled up into a ball in his hand. Knowing him, he probably burned it.

I lied to myself, and let my pussy be the only truthful part of me, and said I didn't beg for him to let me come, or that I loved it just because my lady parts did.

That I wasn't disappointed even after the orgasm(s) because his cock wasn't inside me, ruining me and wrecking and reducing me to tears because I knew how good he felt.

Nope.

But that number, written on my ass?

It meant that he didn't believe my lies any more than I did. Even if I kept telling them to both of us.

"If Kas keeps this up, I won't be able to walk until after the playoffs," Jules moaned.

I snorted as I weaved my way through the early morning Seattle traffic three days later. "A near hat trick doesn't warrant your usual celebratory obligation, my friend," I drawled. "Your post sore lady bit issue is all on you, my friend, not Kas' prowess on the ice. Though it's been damn impressive. After Sunders went down, I was sure we were screwed."

"Which is why I have to do the post celebratory sex. But, damn, I'm not sure how much more creative I can get. If I don't do it, and we lose or his game sucks, then it's all on me."

"Yeah, cause none of the other guys have anything to do with the whole taking the series thing," I drawled as I pulled into my spot. My cheeks flushed. Right there, like a damn beacon of hot sexual memory extravaganza, Max's SUV taunted me like it knew exactly what was still on my ass.

Three days later.

Faded just a tad, but I counted myself lucky that it wasn't bikini season and all the world would see the number 77 written in bold black strokes on my right ass cheek.

"Either way, I'm not taking any chances. At least I have a few days to come up with something," she groaned. "I never realized I would need the rest until the next series as bad."

I chuckled. "Rest that pussy, my friend."

"And my damn jaw," she complained as I laughed even louder."Seriously, these hockey players and their stamina."

I wiped a few tears from my eyes as I grabbed my bag and climbed out of my car, phone clenched between my ear and shoulder. "Because you've dated so many."

"One is enough. Plus," she added, "I think Max is either seeing someone and not telling me, or he's got some puck bunny on the side."

My shoulders tensed as I swiped my security card. The door swooshed open and I stepped inside. The building, eerily quiet, in stark contrast to the day before the last game in which the Revenge swept their series. Energy and a few nervous players had filled the halls then, but today, the only people here were a few of the trainers and equipment managers. A sweep gave the guys, and the rest of the staff, a few extra days of rest and prep time since the other series looked like it would most likely go to seven games. Tied at two, neither team seems to have the upper hand, which was both good and bad for the Revenge. Rest, good. But both teams were worthy opponents, unlike the team we swept in four. The next round was going to be a challenge.

‘What makes you think that?"

"The game we traveled to? Kas said he left the arena before most of the coaching staff, and he's usually the last one out."

"So?"

"So, Max likes to make sure the rest of the team gets home. It's the big brother protective gene."

"Or the overly possessive Coach Grumpy Pants gene," I grumbled as I neared the Hype Team office and dropped my bag outside the door before I headed to the coffee happy place station. "So, he left early one time. Big deal."

"Yeah, but when I asked him where he went, he said he ordered in, ate pizza by himself, and ran over stats."

"And?"

"Then, he said he ordered Chinese."

"So? Maybe he couldn't decide."

"No way. Max never forgets what he ate. He's borderline obsessive about his food. Eats boring crap unless he orders out. There's no Jet's Pizza around the hotel. And he never orders Chinese after a win."

I stopped in my tracks as the subject of our conversation made an appearance in the hallway, far enough away that he still hadn't noticed me. Staring like a damn creeper or one of the damn puck bunnies he probably did have on the side, like Jules thought.

Because there was no way I was the puck bunny. And we hadn't had sex since that first night. Orgasms without actual sex didn't count. Coming from spanking most definitely didn't count.

With a last glance to make sure Max hadn't noticed me, I spun around and headed to where the newest fan merch for the rally sat. The last shipment had been sent to the wrong team, and my hidden type A tendencies screamed that I had to check on everything. Plus I had to set up the schedule for the rest of the team. Which, yes I could have done from home, but I liked going into the facility, especially when I knew no one would be there.

Leave it to Max to ruin that plan and toss it out the window.

"Call me when you're done."

I sighed. "Just go to the damn romantic weekend, wait what do you call a weekday two night stay over? Go have fancy spa sex with your man."

Jules echoed my sigh, though hers held far much more swoon than mine. "I still can't believe Kas found a spa that lets us bring Daisy."

"Smitten with the kitten and his girl."

"I know. Call you tomorrow?"

"Just don't get trapped by the rain, and be all blissed and orgasmed out that you forget to come home."

After I hung up, I finished up the schedule, double checked the shipment, and emailed the team for the rally in three days. I was so engrossed in my checklist, I didn't notice Max leaning on the doorframe until he cleared his throat.

"Holy hell, Max! You scared the crap out of me! Way to give a girl a damn heart attack."

"I prefer giving you orgasms, Sunrise." The smirk.

Don't let him see how hot it makes you when he does that. Nope. No way. Hoes before bros. Or something. Great, now I'm arguing with myself and using One Tree Hill references. Hopeless, Soph.

"Funny."

"Dead serious."

"Orgasm talk is strictly prohibited at the workplace. And that was a one-time thing. Don't get your hopes up."

He looked over at me like he knew as well as I did that I hoped it wouldn't be. But there was no way in hell I'd admit it out loud. Especially not here, where anyone could overhear. Dark whiskey colored eyes slowly traced their way down. Stopped at my lips, then back up, daring me to deny how he caught me when I squirmed in my seat. Of course Max noticed the slight wince when I did, thighs clenched tight. Need coursed through me, a jolt of desire so strong I nearly whined with it.

"Feeling…ok, Sophia?"

Fuck. I refused to meet his gaze, because yes, my ass was still a little sore from the way he spanked me and made me come.

When he wrote his stupid number on my body like he owned me.

That stupid voice whispered so loudly in my ear I swore he heard, you didn't stop him, though, did you?

Shut up. I could've.

Sure. Keep lying, Soph.

"Fantastic, thank you for asking."

Stupid sexy smirk.

The sudden sound of rain pounding on the roof made me jump. Definitely not from the way Max's eyes were making me fight the damn urge to shift. Again. His eyes went from my face to the roof, then back in a slow perusal, as if he knew the effect he had on me. "You're leaving soon? Rain's going to be pretty…intense."

My phone decided to agree with him, the alert breaking the spell he weaved over me.

Momentarily, anyway.

Weather advisory. Severe thunderstorm warning in effect for the following areas for the next two hours. Watch stays in effect until 4 am. Power outages, lightning and flash floods are possible.

We stared, locked in a stalemate, until Max finally pushed off the door frame.

"Guess that's my cue to leave. Drive carefully, Sophia."

I exhaled the breath I had been holding as he left me alone and somehow still felt him all around me.

But I had more important things to do than worry about Max Vaughn and the silly voice that kept sneaking up on me.

Two hours, one takeout order picked up on the way home, and a certain little fuzzy ball of kitten happiness later, I sat crossed legged on the floor of my place, listening to the torrential downpour outside. A forkful of fried rice later, I scanned my streaming service, settling on one of my comfort watches.

Who knew watching a cheesy teen drama about two brothers with different mothers and their little high school drama would be the thing I needed to distract me, but it did. At least for one episode. Or the first ten minutes, anyway. All the while, the newest member of my household slept in a tiny little ball. All snuggled up, the Maine Coon kitten I'd picked on my way home was only six weeks old. One of the Venge Hype Team worked with a kitten rescue and mentioned in passing that she'd been fostering a mom and her kittens but they were trying to find homes for the last two.

And now here we were.

"You need a name, little mister."

Paws did the little making biscuits motion, but the kitten didn't stir, and I went back to my cartons with a grin. The Scott brothers distracted me from any thoughts of grumpy, hot older coaches I had no business thinking about as the rain came down outside.

I almost didn't hear the knock on my door over the din from the relentless weather outside. But when the pounding sounded even louder a second later, I knew it wasn't my imagination. A quick peek through the peephole and I sucked in a breath.

I yanked the door open. "Just can't stay away?"

Max gave me a once over, from the top of my head where I hastily gathered my hair to my bare feet.

I glanced down at the oversized and faded Pens hoodie I threw on when I came home over a pair of boy shorts. Dammit.

"I like how you look in my number," he said with a smirk.

Feigning indifference, I rolled my eyes. "I haven't done laundry yet. Calm your ego, Coach Grumpy Pants." I would grab the only thing I had with Max Vaughn's number on it. Fuck my life.

"Laundry, huh?"

"Yep. I've had other things to take care of, and this was the only thing I had in the bottom of my drawer."

"Uh uh."

He stood, taking up space in a way that made my mouth water. That's when I noticed the water dripping onto the floor. "You're drenched!"

"Very observant. Raining for two hours. Weather alert." The lights flickered, and I jumped. "Power is out at my place, and part of the roof on the upper floor started leaking. Management isn't letting anyone in until they figure out if it's the transformer or not. And Jules' key isn't where it usually is, or I'd-"

My brows drew together. "It isn't?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

I went to push past him, but I stopped, because if Max couldn't find it, I definitely wouldn't be able to. "Come inside. I'll get you a towel. We can throw your stuff in the dryer."

He held up his gym bag. "I had my bag from yesterday's morning practice in my truck, at least."

As he stepped past me, I muttered. "No naked Max, then."

Max paused and threw over his shoulder before heading to the bathroom. "Only if you play your cards right, Sunrise."

Over on the couch, the newest addition to my life mewed and stretched.

"We are in so much trouble, little guy."