Slap Shot (D.C. Stars, #3)

by Chelsea Curto

For the ones with gentle souls and hearts made of gold. (And for the readers who love to see the sweet six-foot-two NHL player use his mouth for something other than talking… Hudson Hayes is for you)

The best part of my job is being in charge of entitled men who think they’re better than me because they have a dick.

“I try to be good about my sugar intake during the season, but I’m a sucker for anything chocolate. Anything sweet, really.”

If it were up to me, I’d be at Taco Bell shoveling down five Crunchwrap Supremes.

He gives me a wave and flips his hat backward before walking toward us. Jesus Christ. Shit like that should be illegal for men to do in public.

What’s it like to have a miniature version of yourself running around?” “Slightly terrifying, but also my greatest accomplishment.

I guess I am a romantic. I believe in soulmates and happily ever afters. One person for you kind of thing. I’ve always cared more about emotional attraction than physical attraction.

“There’s nothing special about me.” I frown. She’s not wrong about many things, but she’s wrong about that. Madeline Galloway is special, and I’m sad she’s been led to think otherwise.

And, fuck, is Hudson a man.

“Hey,” I say sharply, and everyone stares at me. I’m not one to raise my voice, but I hate hearing this kind of shit. “I don’t care if that was a joke. Knock it the fuck off or save it for the bar when I’m not around. And keep my roommate’s name out of your mouth. None of you are touching her, and you’re not going to talk about her like that again. Got it?”

There are a lot of men in the world, but I’m learning there’s only one Hudson Hayes.

I wonder when I’ll stop being impressed by what Madeline creates.

Maybe it’s because it’s her, and the more time I spend with Madeline, the more I realize she might be the most incredible person I’ve ever met.

“Shit, Madeline. You’re beautiful. Fucking gorgeous.” “You said your favorite color was green and I—” I lift the dress at my hip, gesturing at my ensemble. “I thought it was festive.” “When I said green, I meant that exact shade. You in that outfit, really.” His cheeks are flushed, and his Adam’s apple bobs. “No other variation is ever going to do.”

“Madeline,” I murmur. “Yeah?” she whispers. “Maybe we should kiss,” I tell her, not fully knowing what I’m saying. But those lips… and the corner of her mouth… “To see if it brings us good luck.” “You want to kiss me because you want good luck?” “Yeah. But I also want to kiss you because I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.”

“What else have you been thinking about?” “You,” I say. “In every way I shouldn’t want you. In every way I can’t have you.”

A man gone, because she’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted, and once isn’t going to be enough. A million fucking times won’t be enough.

“You’re different. I like y’all. You’re my favorite girls

I don’t know what I want more: to wear his name across my back, or to learn how persuasive Hudson Hayes can be.

“Go on, Golden Girl.” “Golden Girl?” “Yeah.” He gestures around the kitchen, not blinking at the catastrophe surrounding us. “You’re the brightest thing in this room. The brightest thing in every room.”

I want him, in any way I can have him, because he’s the epitome of perfection. He’s magic and stardust and everything I’ve ever dreamed about when I let my cynical heart imagine falling for another man somewhere down the road.

“You said that’s not something you want. You told me you wanted to be friends. Just friends.” “That’s what I wanted before, but it’s not what I want anymore.” “What do you want?” I ask, terrified to hear the answer. “You,”

“I’m not kissing you unless you tell me to, Madeline. And if I do, it’s not going to be a one-time, casual thing. It’s not going to be a two-time thing. It’s going to mean something, just like it did on New Year’s, because I’m done pretending like I haven’t thought about that night every single day that’s passed. I have. Excessively. But I don’t act on it because I don’t want you to hide from me again. I don’t want to mess this up. You mean too much to me.”

“Hopefully not too gentle when you finally get him in bed.” Emmy smirks. “Women who are mothers have needs to.”

I want him to fuck me like we’re going to die tomorrow, but I also want him to touch me like we have all the time in the world.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Madeline. Please be gentle when you kill me.”

“I like to think I know what I’m doing. When we’re together, I’ll make sure you’re enjoying yourself. I’ll make sure you finish first, and I’ll make sure to talk you through it when I’m fucking you.” He brings his mouth to my ear, teeth nipping at my skin. “Are those good traits, Maddie?”

instead of putting my tongue on her, I spit so I can circle her with my thumb.

“What would you say if you found out it’s one of my favorite things in the world?” I grip her thighs and push them open. “What if I told you I’d stay here all night if it meant getting three orgasms out of you? What if sometimes, I like this better than sex?” I lick her pussy, and she moans. “Tell me again how nice I am, Maddie. I can’t wait to fuck that word right out of your mouth.”

“Look how well you take my cock. Look at how well we fit together.”

That might be a side effect from being around someone like Madeline; eternally optimistic, even when she doesn’t have to be. Bright and full of life in a way I feel like I haven’t been in years. Maybe she and Lucy have been the missing piece all along.

“My name looks good on you, Galloway.” “You think so?” “Yeah. Better than any of the other women in the arena. You’re the only one I want wearing it.”

“I’ve got my girls in the crowd wearing my jersey, Galloway.” Hudson’s face shifts from playful to something soft. A truth he’s declaring in the middle of the sold-out arena. “I could miss every shot I take. We could lose by twenty, and it’d still be a damn good night.”

“You have some strong legs,” I point out. “Maybe I can put them around your head when we get home,”

There are so many things I like about Hudson, but one of my favorite things is when he turns commanding and desperate, raw and achingly hot.

“This way I get to see the parts of yourself you say you don’t love. The cellulite, the stretch marks. You don’t have to like them, Maddie, but I’m fucking obsessed with them. I’ll worship them for both of us.”

It’s like he doesn’t know where he wants to touch. My body is a blank canvas, and I’m ready to be his muse.

“So pretty when you fall apart.”

“Because y’all are mine.” I tuck a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “And I protect what’s mine.”

I’ve never been this reckless or drunk on infatuation. But that’s the thing about Hudson Hayes: he makes me feel alive in ways I’ve never been.

“You have to be quiet, Maddie.” He moves the hand not between my legs up to my neck, covering my mouth. “I don’t want my teammates to hear you. They don’t get that privilege.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to focus on hitting a goddamn puck when the man who divorced the woman I fucking love sits in the stands without getting a piece of my fucking mind? He left them because his daughter is deaf. Do you know how horrible he is?”

“I love you so much. You and Lucy are the greatest things to ever happen to me, and I… I love you so much it hurts, Maddie, to think about my life without you in it. I… I can’t hold it in anymore. I know I said I’d be patient, but you need to hear it and⁠—”

“Loving you is easier than anything I’ve ever done. It’s like breathing. Something that comes naturally, because I don’t have to think about it. You’re just… there. Perfect and wonderful and mine. Made for me, I think.”

“When I’m with you, I’m the most sure I’ve ever been about anything in my entire life.”