Just a Pucking Grumpy Goalie [COMPLETED]

Chapter 17 - Self control

Chapter 17

Brick

She practically asked me to spank her. No. I shake my head as she disappears down the street. No. She did not ask me to spank her. Far from it. In fact, it was probably the worst punishment she could think of.

But the way she said it, all breathy and lust filled. It had to mean something.

Fucking hell, that woman is going to drive me crazy.

All I can think of now is putting her over my knee and pulling up that skirt so I can dole out her punishment with skin to skin contact. Having her wriggle in my lap with her ass turning bright red...

Fuck. She's going to make me come in my pants. And I already swore I wasn't going to jerk off to her. She's still a virgin.

I fucking hope she's still a virgin. Because the thought of her going to class with my hand imprinted on her cheeks, and her remembering me every time she sits down, it's almost enough to make me break every rule in my book.

But it would only scare her away. I smacked her a couple of times in Boston, but that was nothing.

As soon as I knew she was a virgin, and especially after I saw her on campus in her pretty dress looking like she's the epitome of a good girl, I struggled to place her in the part of my brain where possible sisters and puppies reside.

I thought I had finally banished her from the sinful section of my brain, but it was all for nothing. She rules supreme over all my urges.

And the way she looked at me, all defiant. As if she was challenging me to punish her. Fuck. Now, I want her more than ever.

I grab my things and head inside. I'm not going to ask what she was doing here. Because if she's seeing one of my roommates, I will end up punching him. And we have a game coming up. We have all the games coming up. And I have to remember that I'm here for hockey.

Ignoring the guys, I head to my room, the only one downstairs, and close the door.

Except, if I can't get her out of my head, it's going to start messing with hockey soon. I've already become absentminded at practice and yesterday, I forgot to take the lasagne from the oven, so I had to order out.

I spend the weekend pushing myself. At the gym, I give it my all and lift to failure. On the ice, I play hard and thank god she isn't in the audience.

I'm determined to get her out of my head. When the words in my book stop making sense because I can't focus, I move to the living room and play video games with the guys.

Come Monday, I have almost forgotten the way she looked at me. I avoid her when I go to class, by arriving a minute or two late. Luckily, the teacher isn't too hard on us. And he's a hockey fan, so I know I can get away with a bit more than most of the other students.

I only feel a bit guilty when I use hockey as an excuse. It's not a complete lie, because avoiding her is better for my game.

After classes, I head to the Den for some on the ice practice. The guys are shooting drills and I'm back to my usual self. I stop the pucks one after the other, and I'm feeling great when all of a sudden she's there.

I don't know how I know. But I feel her eyes on me and look up. And she's standing by the ice. Her eyes scan the players, not me. For some reason, she's avoiding looking at me. She knows I'm the goalie. It's not hard to figure out where I am.

A puck flies past me.

"Come on, Brick," Liam says. "It's no fun if you're not even trying."

Is she here for me? What's going on? Did she come here to see me?