Page 8 of Pucking Them
“Crook,” D’Angelo grumbles.
I waggle my eyebrows. “Your PR Director. Surprisingly, this season I’ve found that the line between the two isn’t as firm as I thought it’d be.”
He crosses his arms. “That’s because I’m a bad man.”
“Well, then I’m a woman who is brave enough to steal from bad men. What is…?”
I blink at the drawings in sparkly pink of gangs of stickmen…and women… in wildly confusing positions.
I suspect, smutty ones.
After all, this is Jude fucking D’Angelo.
He slowly unrolls his shirtsleeve. “Turn back a page and read the new section that I added.”
A Guide to Pucking Hockey Players
D’Angelo’s Number One Rule: Win on the ice. Earn the night off it. We play hard, and we puck even harder.
Top three reasons:
Every big game is a chance to test new positions and see just how much fun we can handle…under the sheets.
Hockey is thrilling, but our nights together? Life-changing.
The Prince twins turn every victory into pure mischief.
But never forget it all began with D’Angelo…
“Are you ever going to stop using hockey puns?” I ask.
“Unlikely,” D’Angelo unrolls his second sleeve, “as I’m honing my skills as a romance author. I need something to back up my hockey career. I could be the first hockey player with a bestseller.”
“Not with writing like this,” I mutter.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” I tap the book. “What does it mean? Every hockey game you win, wins us a fantasy night as a reward?”
D’Angelo’s expression becomes wicked. “More than that. A newposition. Turn the page.”
I flick through over the page, staring at the pictures.
Oh, theyarekinky stick people.
Except, in one of the positions, it looks like the female stick version of me is being impaled, in another I’m upside down with legs everywhere, while another just looks like a centipede.
I wrinkle my nose.
“I call this Pucking Them Positions,” D’Angelo explains. “They’re new, exciting positions that we haven’t tried together yet, which are more on the adventurous side.”
“Don’t you mean possibly deadly?”
“You may feel like you’ve died and flown to heaven by the time that I’ve finished with you.” D’Angelo’s expression becomes sultry. He does up his diamond cuff links, adjusting them three times. “Of course, I’ll add an extra twist from your fantasy list as well.”
My pulse quickens.
Each of us wrote down a list of our fantasies and dream roleplays, which then D’Angelo sealed and kept secret.
