Pucking Wild (Jacksonville Rays, #2)

by Emily Rath

“Take your time,” Ilmari says at me, his body relaxing a little against mine. His permission acts like the opening of a second set of flood gates. I’m a mess as I just cling to him and cry, letting go of everything I’ve been holding onto all day. One moment I was standing in my apartment, the next I was standing at the Delta ticket counter. I’ve always felt so safe in Rachel’s orbit, since that very first night we met. Her men make me feel safe too. An honorary Ray, she called me. Right now, that feels pretty fucking good.

“Do you still have that job available?”

“Are you sure you won’t change your mind?” Rachel presses, tucking her tablet into her backpack and zipping it closed. “For the hundredth time, yes,” I reply with a groan. “Because it would only take a phone call to arrange it,” she adds. “Plane ticket, hotel, box seats—the works. New Year’s Eve in the Big Apple.” “As fun as that sounds, I really think I just need to take a minute and…regroup.”

“I put three pints of Cherry Garcia in the freezer for you,” Jake calls. “And the dog food is in the pantry, left side bottom.” “Thanks, Jake,” I reply. “Cherry Garcia is my favorite.” “He knows,” Rachel and Caleb say at the same time. With a smirk, Jake shoulders Rachel’s bag and heads back down the hall.

I feel so in the way. They have a life here, and now I’m daring to just set up camp for the next…who knows how long. Days? Weeks? I told Ilmari I would help him get his nonprofit off the ground. It’s not like I have anything better to do while I face the bullshit terms of my temporary leave. “What?” says Rachel, reading me like a damn book. “Nothing,” I say, flashing Caleb a smile as he steps wordlessly past me. “It’s not nothing,” she says. “Did you change your mind about coming with us?” “No,” I say, watching as Ilmari steps out too. “It’s just a little weird, right?” “What’s weird?” “Me being here. It’s weird, right?” She huffs a laugh. “Tess, we lived together for almost three years. I know your habits better than I know theirs.” “But that’s my point,” I press. “Rach, you just got married. You’re all still figuring each other out. I’m in the way—” “Don’t,” Rachel says,

“Listen, if you feel that weird about staying here, I have another place you can stay.” “Another place? You a real estate mogul now, Rach?” She smirks. “No, it’s Ilmari’s old place. Cute little bungalow about fifteen minutes from here. Right on the Intracoastal—” “I can’t do that,” I cry. “Why not?” “Well…because it’s his house. Staying here with you and your guys feels weird but staying in Ilmari’s house feels…weirder.”

She works a small silver key off her keychain and holds it out. “Consider it part of your package deal, Ms. Director of Operations. Keep in mind that free housing comes with obligatory dog-sitting…you know, when you’re not turtle-sitting.”

“Hey,” she says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I love you.” “I know,” I reply with a watery smile. “What’s not to love?” “Exactly. That’s what I’ve been saying for three years. You are a goddess, and you deserve to be worshipped and adored. Altars, burning of incense…maybe some ritual orgies.” “Will you just go?” I laugh, giving her a shove. “Or Mars is gonna drag you out.” “Are you staying?”

“You guys fucked in it, didn’t you?” “No comment,” she replies with a laugh. I just sigh. “Yeah, you fucked in it. ‘Cause you’re a horny little horndog who can’t get enough.” “Can you blame me?” she teases, tugging open the front door. “You get yourself a hockey player and see if you can ever get enough.” “Is that an invitation?” I tease right back. “Down, girl. The Rays are off limits, remember?”

“Hey—do you really mean that? Is it like a hard line in the sand for you?” She turns, her gaze leveled at me. “Oh, Tess, what did you do?” “Nothing,” I cry, feigning indignation. “Tess…” “Nothing,” I say again, laughing this time. But then I squeeze my boobs together and give her a saucy wink. “Yet.” “I fucking hate you,” she says, shaking her head. “You love me, remember? You just said it.” “When do you move out again?” “Today. And I’m taking the dog with me,” I tease. “Just give him back on Sunday night or Caleb will cry,” she says pulling the door shut.

I have no idea what the heck I’m doing with my life, but coffee and a beach walk with the dog sounds like enough of a plan for now. And maybe I’ll try the sauna tonight…after I disinfect it first.

Novy shoves his way past behind me. “Jeez, asshole,” I mutter, glaring at the back of his head. “‘Scuse me,” says Morrow, sliding past too. They’ve both been so weird since L.A. Novy is usually a big prankster, life of the party, even if he’s also a moody asshole. And Morrow is one of the nicest guys on the team. Right now, their shoulders are set in frustration as they take opposite seats in the same aisle, crossing their arms like lovers in a tiff.

“Hey, Ryan. I know you’re probably already in the air, but you can listen to this when you land,” comes MK’s voice through my earbud. “You got it! The endorsement deal is all yours, my friend. Nike is sending over the preliminary contract later today. You’re looking at a tidy one mil before taxes, paid out in installments, of course. I sent over all the particulars in an email, but you can always call me when you land. Congrats!”

My smile widens as I feel my heart race. “I did it,” I say at my reflection. I’m doing it. I’m living my dreams. Since I put on that first pair of skates at six years old, I’ve been climbing this mountain. I fought and sacrificed and trained for so long. And it hasn’t been easy. Every card has been stacked against me from the beginning. We needed government aid to get me through school, charity to pay for my hockey equipment, scholarships to make it onto the right teams. But I did it. I put in the work and sacrificed damn near everything to become a Division 1 athlete. Then I was named a first-round draft pick to the San Jose Sharks. Now I’m a Ray…and a Nike spokesperson.

We’re halfway through the second period and we’re down by one. The Habs are playing like lions tonight. Their forwards are throwing elbows and making hard checks. It’s bullshit because this is an exhibition game. There’s no reason these guys need to be out here checking us so hard. If they don’t back off, someone is gonna get hurt. I’m puffing like a racehorse as I get into position for the face-off. Sully takes the center spot. Karlsson skates into position across the circle and gives me a nod. The player to his left is the worst one out here. I can see from the set of Karlsson’s shoulders he’s had enough of the rough play too.

Focus. Speed. Control. It’s my mantra. Focus on the puck. Move fast. Control your stick. Eyes up. The puck drops, and Sully just barely wins control of it, shooting it back to me. As soon as it hits my stick, I come alive, bursting with speed as I try to lose my shadow. But he’s right on top of me. I can hear him breathing like a mastiff around his mouthguard, thick and slobbery. He shoves his stick in, nearly tripping me, trying to wrestle the puck away. Fuck, you’re gonna lose it. I have to get it away from me. He’s herding me towards the boards. He won’t be gentle, and I can’t take another hit. My hips and shoulders are already screaming from the beating I took in the first period. I need this shift to end. Now. Eyes up.

I know what he’s doing, and I’m ready for it. He wants to pass it to me and offer me a corner shot on goal. But a blur of red comes blasting in from behind me, cutting off Sully’s pass to me. We lose possession of the puck, and it goes hurtling down the ice out of the defensive zone. The Rays defense is ready. Morrow and Novy are a pair of Canadian moose, and Mars is our Finnish bear in the net. Novy wrestles the puck away right in front of the crease and sends it screaming down the ice towards Karlsson.

cutting up the ice with my blades to make my mark so Karlsson can pass it to me. I’m faster than my shadow. I tear down the ice, breaking free of him. I glance back just in time to see Karlsson get boxed in. He drops the puck back to Morrow. Eyes up. I turn my gaze to the plexiglass, and a head of red curls with a wide smile stops my heart in my chest. Her hand is pressed to the glass as she screams, eyes locked on me. She’s here? How is she here— The sudden flash of camera phones blind me, reflecting off the plexiglass and I blink, looking sharply away. Focus— “Langley!” “Ahhh!” Time stops as my body registers two things at once. First, I’m airborne. I float in suspended animation, the milliseconds slowing down, my legs swept out from under me. Second, I’m in a ton of fucking pain. It radiates from my knee, up my hip, down my shin. Fuck, it zaps me like lightning. I clench down on my mouthguard hard enough to crack my teeth as I brace for impact. My helmet smacks the ice right at my temple. Shoulder. Hip. Knee. I cry out again, rolling to my side, my stick forgotten as I place both gloved hands on my knee trying to stabilize it. If something is broken, I need to hold it in place.

Panic swirls with my adrenaline. Both work to numb the pain as my knee suddenly forms its own heartbeat, radiating pain out in waves. Not the knee. Please, God, not my fucking knee. Without hockey, I’m nothing. My family needs me. My sister, my mother—I’m their only support. And hockey is the only way I’m ever gonna earn. If my knee is busted…if this is the end…

Somewhere beyond the plexiglass, Tess is watching me lie here on this ice. Was it Tess? Did I hallucinate her? I don’t even know. Can’t think about it now— “Langley!” Sully gets to me first, sliding to a stop and dropping to one knee, his hand on my shoulder. “Langers, you okay, man?” “What happened? Where is he hurt?” I hear Novy’s voice, but I don’t look up into the blinding stadium lights. They’re all standing around me,

“Oh fuck, it’s his knee—” “Langers, can you get up?” Someone’s hand is on my hip. He wants me to roll over onto my back. But I’m frozen, letting the pulsing pain in my knee paralyze me. “Don’t fucking touch me,” I cry with a voice not my own. “I’m so sorry,” comes Morrow’s voice. “I thought you had it. I’m sorry. It was a bad pass—” “The asshole took you out at the fucking knees,” Sully growls.

Doc has her medical bag on her shoulder. An EMT beats them to me. “That was a nasty hit, but you’re okay,” she soothes. “Where does it hurt? Your knee?” A big guy in a matching EMT jacket is at my head. “We should stabilize his neck.” “Langley,” Doc calls again.

“Coach, the asshole fucking clipped him,” Sully says. “I know,” says Coach. “We all saw it. Let’s let the EMTs work.” “Let me look at it, Langley,” Doc says.

“What’s your pain level?” “Ungh—seven,” I groan. But then she presses in with her thumb, and I practically levitate off the ice. “Ahh—fuck—ten,” I gasp. “It’s a fucking ten. Don’t do that again.”

“His left knee took all the impact of that hit,” she says at the female EMT. “And his head hit the ice first in his fall,” the male EMT replies. “How you feeling, sir? You feeling dizzy at all? Look at me, please. Follow the light.”

“We need to get him off the ice,” says Coach. “Can he walk off?” “You got this, Langley,” one of my teammates call. But Doc shakes her head. “With that hard of a hit, we need scans to be safe. We need to rule out a break.” I let their medical talk float over my head like snowflakes caught in a flurry. I gaze up, my eyes focusing beyond the lights to the haze of the sky overhead. I’m flat on my back on an ice rink…in the middle of Yankee Stadium. Forty thousand people are watching me lie here. “I can walk,” I hear myself say. “Doc, help me.”

“Easy, Langley. You’re getting a ride off the ice this time, okay?” “Hang in there, Langers,” says Sully, his face visible over the shoulder of Coach Andrews. “You got this,” Novy calls.

As if she can sense my problem, Doc steps in next to me, her bare hand taking mine. “It’s okay, Ryan,” she soothes. “I’m right here, okay? I’m going with you to the hospital.” This all happened because I lost focus for a split second. I saw a pretty face, and my brain skipped like a scratched vinyl record. “Tess,” I mutter. “She’s here, right?” Doc leans down over me. “What? I didn’t hear you.” My head rolls to the right, and my vision goes hazy. I blink to clear it and peer through the plexiglass, looking for a freckled face and red curly hair. Tess is here. She distracted me. She’s under my skin. She— The pretty redhead at the glass wearing the Rays jersey looks stricken with worry as I pass by on my stretcher. Not my redhead. Not Tess. No, the woman behind the glass is too short, too thin. Dark eyes, not green.

“Not here,” I mumble, turning away. “She’s not here.” My eyes close, and I feel like I’m sinking through the stretcher into warm water. “Hey—Langley, stay awake for me, okay?” Doc’s voice sounds far away. Her grip on my hand is my tether.

“Ryan, stay awake…” I groan, wanting to do as she says. I’m a team player. I always do what I’m told. Doc says stay awake. “Ryan…” I’m a hot air balloon, and I’m floating…floating…

And I hate hospitals even more than I hate airplanes. I spent half my life in one as a kid, watching my dad fight a slow losing battle with cancer.

I look down at my left knee. It’s wrapped up in a brace and propped from below by a pillow. My right leg is hidden under the thin hospital blankets. The bare toes of my left foot stick up, pointing to the ceiling. Apparently, I’m supposed to sleep like this, lying on my back with the brace on. I never sleep on my back. I don’t even know if I can sleep on my back. This night is gonna suck.

“Doc says I have a second-degree sprain of my MCL,” I reply. Jake helps himself to a seat at the end of my bed. “What does that mean exactly?” “How long are you off the ice?” Sully rephrases. I shrug. “Doc says I’m looking at about four weeks of RICE. We don’t want the tear to get any fucking worse.”

“Four weeks is nothing, man. Easy time.” “Yeah, we’ll hardly even get the chance to miss you,” Morrow adds, the relief etched on his face. “The rookies will be at your beck and call. And you know the WAGs will fix you up with enough meals to last you through the rest of the season. It’ll be like a vacation—” “Wait, doesn’t your place have like a shit ton of stairs?” says Sully. I just shrug. “I mean, yeah. But I’ve managed on crutches before. It’s really not a big deal.” “Dude, that dump you rent is a split-level,” adds Jake. “There are stairs fucking everywhere. It’s a death trap. You’re not staying there.” “Guys, I’m fine. Four weeks, remember? And nothing’s even broken—”

“Thanks, but no thanks, Coley. I can only guess what kind of weirdness you and Novy get up to over there.” “Nov is moving out,” he mutters, crossing his arms. We all turn to him. “Wait—what happened?” says Jake, eyes wide. “Did you guys break up?” Sully chokes on a laugh. “Shut up, asshole,” Morrow snaps. “It’s none of your business.” “Wait…did you?” Sully presses. “Like…are you two secretly a thing?” “No way,” Jake cries. “Hey, Cay and I aren’t the only ones.” He raises a hand like he’s seeking a high five, but Morrow just groans. “It’s not like that, assholes. It was always meant to be temporary. You know, while they did the renos on his house,” he adds with a shrug.

Jake looks to me. “I’ve got the perfect place you can stay. Furnished, close to the practice arena, and not a single stair.” “Where?” I say. He slips his hand into his pocket and takes out his keys, working one off the ring. “Here, man.” I shift forward, taking the silver key from his hand. “What’s this?” “Key to Mars’s house,” he replies. The three of us stare down at the key like it’s a rare, unearthed treasure. “I’ve never been to Mars’s house,” Morrow says, his tone almost reverent. “Me either,” says Sully. “I don’t even know where it is. How do you have that?” he adds, eyes wide as he takes in Jake, like he’s suddenly recalculating him and his potential. Jake just laughs, then frowns. “Wait—are you assholes serious?” When none of us respond, he huffs again. “We got married, remember? In L.A.? You were all fucking there?”

“Hey, what am I supposed to do with this key,” I call to Jake’s retreating form. “Use it,” he replies. “Until you’re back on your feet.” “I’ll have Shelbs alert the WAGs,” Sully adds. As team captain, his wife Shelby is queen of the wives and girlfriends. I’m about to be buried under a mountain of homemade soups, cookies, and casseroles. “But I don’t even know where Mars lives,” I call as Jake pulls open the door. “What’s the address?” Jake glances over his shoulder. “1006 Harbor Road. Oh, and he’s got this awesome sauna thing out on the patio. Might help you loosen up that knee,” he adds with a nod to my leg.

This is my life now. New year, new Tess. But first…the plunge. “You can do it. In and out. Quick like a cat.” I’ve got my hair tied up in a messy bun and a beach towel wrapped around me as I eye the steps of the pool. “Do it,” I say again, nerves firing all over my body. “3—2—1—” Dropping the towel to my feet, I squeal like a little girl and rush down the steps naked. I sink into Ilmari’s freezing cold pool. There’s a privacy fence that juts out to either side of the condo, blocking me from view of the neighbors. And I didn’t turn any of the patio lights on, so even a creeper with binoculars wouldn’t get much of a show. “Fuck—ahh—this is the worst,” I cry, teeth chattering. Tears sting my eyes as I feel my nipples sharpen to deadly points. In moments, I’m laughing, stumbling up out of the pool. Leaving the towel on the ground, I wrench open the sauna door and step inside. The interior lights glow softly as the heater hums. I shut the door behind me, taking a deep breath of hot air.

I hum along to the music for a few minutes before I start to get that dizzy feeling of overheating. Taking a deep breath, I hurry out of the sauna and walk straight back into Ilmari’s pool. The cold water tingles against my burning skin, and I get that rush, that high that has me smiling ear to ear. I wade in the shallow end for a minute or two before I step out and hop right back in the sauna. I continue my cycle of hot sauna and cold pool for three more songs before I feel ready for a glass of wine. Leaving my towel behind, I saunter naked into the condo and head for the refrigerator.

And look, I’m a girl of simple tastes. I like cheap wine and expensive cheese.

I can just barely hear the music outside as I sway to the beat, pouring myself a glass of the chilled wine. The only light on in here comes from above the stove, casting out a soft yellow glow. I glance over my shoulder to the living room to see Poseidon passed out on his checkered donut pillow. I kept him busy all weekend with trips to the beach and the coffee shop. He’s been a good— I gasp as he suddenly leaps off his pillow, wide awake and barking his head off, his teeth bared. “Sy, what—” My words stop short as I nearly drop my glass of wine. My gaze is locked on the wall of glass leading out to the patio. A man is standing there. He’s wearing a dark hoodie with his hood pulled up, his face in shadow. I’m looking at him and he’s looking at me while the dog barks like crazy. His reflection wavers as he moves, and I realize Sy is facing the entryway, not the glass wall. That’s when I scream. The man isn’t out on the patio. He’s inside the house.

I’m staring at the reflection of Tess Owens in the glass wall, my heart frozen in my chest. A naked Tess Owens. Fuck, why is this woman always naked? And why is she here of all places? We paint an odd picture in the glass. The lighting is just right to show me standing in the middle of the entryway on my crutches and her standing in the kitchen holding a glass of wine.

“Tess!” I shout, shuffling forward on my crutches. Meanwhile, the dog keeps barking. “Get the fuck out!” Tess screams, still lost to her terror as she spins around holding a kitchen knife. “I’m calling the police right now!” “Jesus—fuck—” I grunt, swinging down the short hallway. “Tess, put down the knife. It’s me. It’s Ryan.”

She’s standing there in all her naked glory, brandishing a knife, looking fierce as a red-haired warrior goddess. I have no doubt she’d tear me apart with that thing. Fuck, why is it making me hard? It’s gotta be the pain meds. My dick is drunk on codeine and thinks she’s the most beautiful thing we’ve ever seen.

What the hell? Was she sunbathing in January? It’s like fifty degrees outside. No, she’s sweaty like she was just working out. Naked? And then it hits me. Oh, fuck. She’s not alone. I glance over my shoulder, waiting for whatever hotshot she’s here with to come strolling in from the bedrooms looking full of himself and satisfied. I hate him. “Oh—Ryan,” she says, her voice cracking with relief. But it quickly turns to anger. “You scared the fucking shit out of me,” she shrieks. “How the hell did you get in here? How do you always get in?” “Through the front door,” I reply, my voice raised to match hers. “It was locked!” “I have a key—” “How?”

“Jake,” I say simply. “He gave me a key. It’s in my pocket if you want to check,” I add, nodding down to my right front pocket of my grey sweats. I try to avoid looking at her peaked nipples, but I can’t help it. They’re so pink and perfect. Was Mr. Hotshot touching them? Surely, he got a taste— Stop. The anger fades in her eyes, replaced quickly with concern as her gaze settles on my crutches. Then the knife goes clattering down to the counter. “Oh god, what happened to you?”

“I’m fine,” I say. “You’re not fine,” she retorts. “You’re on crutches, Ryan. What happened?” She steps closer, her nakedness now within my reach. I grip tighter to the handles of my crutches. “I got clipped during the game,” I explain. “It’s nothing. Just a knee sprain—” Her eyes go even wider, her brows arching high. “A knee sprain?” She reaches for me. “Let me help you.” I stiffen, readying myself for the feeling of electric shock that is her touch. “M’fine,” I mumble, not daring to watch her hand glide up my arm. “Stop saying you’re fine. You look dead on your feet, and you’re swaying like you’re about to fall over. Come sit down on the couch.” “I’m just tired,” I admit, letting her lead me over to the living room.

Tess helps lead me over to the couch, and I sink down onto it with a groan. Big mistake. Now the world’s most gorgeous woman is standing over me naked, her pussy right in my eye line. My gaze locks on the soft thatch of trimmed curls pointing down like an arrow. This is cruel and unusual punishment. Tess seems wholly unbothered. “Why are you here, Ryan?” “I could ask the same of you,” I counter, putting a hand up as if I can block her pussy from view. Fuck, I’m too tired to deal with this right now.

“What are you doing?” she says, looking down at my raised hand. “Could…umm…can you maybe cover with something?” “Cover?” “Yeah, you’re a lot of naked, Tess.” She smirks down at me. “You didn’t seem to mind it last time. In fact, I got the rather distinct impression you liked seeing me naked.” “Yeah, well, last time you weren’t slicked with the sweat of some other guy,”

“Excuse me?” Then she huffs, crossing her arms over her breasts, one hip cocked to the side. “What exactly do you think is happening here? You think I’m hiding a guy back there?” “Well, you look like you just got fucked six ways to Sunday,” comes my muttered reply. Maybe if I wasn’t on so many painkillers, I could finesse this better. No, fuck finesse. I’m too upset. She’s under my skin. The thought of her with someone else has me seeing red. “You’re wandering around Mars’s place like you live here—” “I do live here,” she snaps.