The Penalty Box - Teagan Kade Page 0,25

the ring, our sticks snapping together.

“Better get moving, pretty boy,” she winks.

This time I’m prepared. I manage to take possession of the puck, a one-eighty around her enough to gain some distance. She pulls on me, coming in from the left, but I manage to skate out and shoot.

“One all.”

It goes like this, tit for tat, until Linnea manages to deflect one of my backhands, saving the goal.

“Come get me!” she calls, laughing as she moves up the inside and scores.

I’m breathing like a flogged fucking donkey, need to take a moment to wipe the sweat from my eyes.

“That’s four-three,” Linnea says, slowing the puck. “One more and you’re mine.” She’s skating up against the wall, yelling, “Come on, you big pussy. Is that all you’ve got?”

More out of habit than any kind of malice, I drop and drive into her side, checking her hard into the glass. She’s lighter than I expect, probably goes a full four feet in the air, skimming the top of the glass, spinning once, before crashing to the ice.

I pull up and see her sprawled there unmoving.

Shit.

I pull off my helmet and dump my stick, come to my knees and slide to a stop beside her.

Her eyes are closed. She looks unconscious.

I slap her cheek. “Linnea. Linnea. You good?”

Fuck. I took it too far.

“Linnea!”

Her eyes open and a smile starts to spread across her face. There’s a spot of blood at the corner of her mouth. She licks it away. “That’s more like it.”

I sit back shaking my head. “Holy shit. I thought I’d really fucked you up.”

She groans and stands up, retrieving her stick. “It would take a lot more than that to put me down. We going to finish this?” she says, finding the puck and pulling it in, standing there in wait.

“All right,” I reply, reaching for my own stick. “But don’t expect me to go easy. This win is mine.”

She looks over my shoulder to the front doors. “I thought those guys weren’t supposed to be in until nine?”

I look back but can’t see anyone. “What guys?”

When I turn back, she’s already burning off down the ice. “Later, sucker!” she calls.

I can’t help laughing, storming after her, just about to catch her before she quite masterfully shovels in her fifth goal, holding her stick up and hollering. “Wooooo! Linnea Marsden takes the Stanley Cup! Hoorah!”

“Yeah, yeah,” I laugh, pulling up beside her.

“What do I win?” she asks.

I press my tongue into my cheek. “What would you like, Your Majesty?”

She sniffs. “Why don’t we hit the showers. We smell like a couple of sewer rats in this get-up.”

It’s not a terrible idea. “Follow me.”

We skate back to the edge of the rink, walking back to the men’s locker room and stripping off our gear. I check the clock on the wall, but we’ve still got fifteen minutes or so before this place is full of eager-beaver reserves.

Linnea’s got her jersey and gloves off, struggling to get her skates free.

“I like the way your face squishes together when you’re concentrating,” I tell her. “It’s cute.”

She pulls at the laces. “I don’t know why you guys have to wear all this crap, and these pants… They’re like something from a nineties music video.”

She’s not wrong.

I take out my cup, placing it into my locker beside Linnea’s clothes and shoes. I couldn’t leave them just lying around for anyone to discover.

“You were going easy on me, weren’t you?” she asks, taking off the last of her guards.

“As a matter of fact, you were kicking my ass out there. Sure you don’t want to switch sports? The women’s team could use some muscle.”

“I’m quite happy with basketball, don’t really like the whole hour ritual of getting ready for a game.”

I stand there in my jocks. “I find it quite meditative, actually. Gives me time to reflect before a game.”

She’s down to her bra on top, standing and turning around, slowly peeling her pants over her backside. “How about you reflect on this?”

My cock grows hard at the sight. She’s wearing a thong, too, her perfect ass cheeks the ultimate invitation.

“A thong, hey? I thought you didn’t go for the girly stuff?”

She turns around in nothing but her underwear. “I thought I’d surprise you.” She reaches back and pulls the thong out of her ass. “Got to say, though, it ain’t the most comfortable of garments. Feels like I’m flossing my asshole every time I take a step.”

I know I wanted to wait, but the need