In Sequence | H.S.

08.

Harry.

"G'morning, Rosie." A different vision of her flickered behind every filthy thought that was stirring in my head, contradicting the hungover mess that was slumped over the desk. "Wild night?"

My smirk was prominent; I already knew the answer. Between her drunk call, bathroom photo shoot, and slew of filthy texts, her wild night seemed to revolve around me. Such a shame the only thing her lips got to wrap around last night was a bottle of tequila.

She groaned in response, squinting towards me. The door frame propped me up, and I think my body blocked most of the light from the hallway that was trying to seep into her office. She hadn't bothered to turn the lights on in her office yet, and the light switch was a tempting weapon to use as revenge against her for leaving me without any real fulfillment last night.

I'll give her credit where it's deserved: she has a way with words. Especially when the words are begging for me to fuck her and backed up by photographic evidence of her neediness. Every delicate inch of her figure is tucked away in my back pocket, living carelessly in my text messages.

I can't help but wonder what color lace she's wearing for me today.

A loud sigh brought her head to collide with the back of her office chair. "Oh, fuck me." She whines, a little too sultry to be considered innocent complaining.

"Trust me, Madelyn." I walk closer to her desk, my arms crossed over my chest. "You gave me very descriptive details on how to do just that." My smirk dimples into my cheek, the toes of my sneakers pressing against the wooden front panel of her desk. "Next time you want to get wasted, invite me instead of your sidekick, and we can make all of your filthy little fantasies come true." Dropping my hands to rest on the desktop, I try to bridge part of the gap between us, and I don't think before I speak again. "Nothing sobers up a pretty girl better than my cock."

Her pretty pink lips fell ajar, eyes glancing over my shoulder at the door to ensure we didn't have an audience. I chuckle, tapping a quick rhythm with my hands to draw her attention back to me. When her tired eyes find mine again, they're wide with conflicting emotions, probably shock and slight arousal, and she's still speechless.

"You have a good day, Madelyn." I take my time to stagger towards the door, a cocky grin never faltering off of my lips. "Oh, and tell Ella I say hello. Glad I'm not your dirty little secret anymore."

—

Brisk air hit my face as I stepped into the arena, ready to tear up the freshly resurfaced ice. Whatever Madelyn did to my knee yesterday helped significantly. There's still some tenderness when I put a lot of weight on it, but I'm not limping half as bad. Skating will be a hell of a lot easier since I can power off with my opposite leg and just kind of drag my injured leg along for the ride.

"How much did you have to bribe Madelyn to clear you for practice?" Mitch chuckled from the bench, removing his skate guards. "You were walking like you were trying to get recruited by the Pittsburgh Pirates yesterday."

"Fuck off." I roll my eyes, sitting next to him to pop off my skate guards. It's insulting that he'd put me and that team in the same sentence. "I don't need to bribe her. She's already wrapped around my finger tighter than the tape on my hockey stick."

"Sure seems like it." His sarcasm called bullshit on my claim.

"Trust me. I've got her where I want her." I smirk, throwing my skate guards into my duffel bag.

"Who, Madelyn?" Miles perked up the opposite side of me. Tightening the laces on his skates, he made it obvious that he was suppressing laughter. "Styles, let her do her job without trying to get into her pants."