The Bad Boy Rule (Hellcats Hockey #1)

by Maren Moore

Pride’s a funny thing.

There aren’t many things that make me weak. Not when I’ve spent a lifetime building a wall around anything that could hurt me. But Ma? She’s the softest spot I have. I’d burn down the world for her. Starting with my father, if that’s what it took.

For the first time in my life, I’m doing something for me. And honestly, it feels… liberating. It’s the first taste of true freedom I’ve had in longer than I can remember.

his gaze travels down my body in an unhurried perusal, like he’s actually only now seeing me for the first time. When his eyes drop to the white athletic skirt and tights covering my legs, the corner of his mouth tugs up into a smirk that seems entirely condescending and patronizing without even speaking.

That cocky smirk returns, his gaze dropping to my lips, then languidly returning to meet mine.

I inhale a breath that’s meant to calm me but only seems to make me more annoyed when I feel the cold ice seeping through the fabric on my chest to where I can even feel the bitter bite through my sports bra.

I’m contemplating taking my skate off and chucking it at him when his eyes travel down to my chest, and his lip curves into a grin.

My eyes widen, and I glance down, realizing that my nipples are hard and pebbling beneath my top, and immediately cross my arms over my chest with a scandalized gasp.

Even though he’s got his back turned, I lift my middle finger to send him off.

People are always going to talk; who gives a shit if it’s about me or something else. What they waste their time on is not my concern. If I cared what people thought about me, I wouldn’t have time to worry about anything else in my life.

my very first thought about her was how hot she was and imagining that sassy little mouth in a hundred different ways involving my dick now that I knew who she was. Yet the girl with the fiery red hair and a mouth to match plagued my thoughts the entire weekend, whether I wanted her to or not.

“Everyone knows who she is. She’s little miss perfect. On the dean’s list, the honor society, president of the Social Club

“Dude, if you’re thinking about trying to hit that… think again. She’s off-limits even to you, the mighty Saint Devereaux. “

so rumor is she has some kind of pact to stay a virgin until she gets married or something. It’s like this unspoken thing that everyone knows about. Got a whole-ass promise ring and all. Heard it from a couple guys who tried to hook up with her. So if you’re looking for an easy hookup, she’s not it, man.” A virginity pact? This whole thing just got a lot more interesting. Alright, Lennon Rousseau, you have my attention.

His grin widens, and it momentarily catches me off guard, disarming the confidence I’ve been clinging to. I swallow hard, ignoring the flutter in my stomach.

Fine. Maaaaaybe I can see why he’s got girls throwing themselves at his feet. He’s… hot. Completely objectively speaking.

She finally rolls her eyes and lifts her middle finger toward me before she skates off. Damn. That ass. I run my tongue over my teeth, shaking my head at the thought. Lennon Rousseau has surprised me, and that takes a lot.

This girl… she’s a fucking spitfire. She doesn’t back down, doesn’t take my shit lying down, and that’s the part that surprises me.

She’s right, she did leave an impression, and apparently, my new obsession is finding out everything I could about both her and her asshole of a father.

What would it look like if I took Edward Rousseau’s precious, untouched good girl and dirtied her up?

I’m going to ruin her the very same way her father ruined my family.

My lips curl at the edges. I should probably leave well enough alone, at least for now. But fucking with her is the most fun I’ve had in a while, so nah. Fuck that.

I skate a slow circle around her, letting my gaze linger on her hips before I stop in front of her, closer this time.

There’s an audible gasp that slips past her lips, eyes glinting with animosity that, I’m not going to lie… turns me the fuck on.

He chuckles lowly, the sound entirely too… hot.

I like seeing the fire blazing bright in her eyes, and the second I got a glimpse… I wanted more.

The balls of her cheeks are flushed red, and her piercing jade eyes are dancing with mirth instead of burning bright with her usual hatred. Honestly, I can’t decide which one is hotter.

Naivety will do that to you. Make you feel invincible when you have no idea what’s coming next, only the high of the feeling you can’t get enough of.

No one should have to feel like they’re suffocating. No one should have to feel so… alone standing in a room full of people with all eyes on them. No one should feel caged in a life they don’t want.

My body. My choices. If I wanted to hold on to my virginity until I’m a hundred and die an old spinster without ever giving it away, then it would be my decision, and no one would make it for me. From that moment on, I made a promise to myself. That when the time came, I would give my virginity to whomever I felt ready to without consequence. No one would control me by guilt or archaic expectations. I took the ring to a jeweler and had the phrase “De meo arbitrio” inscribed inside of it in Latin, which means “from my will.” Fuck the patriarchy and their arbitrary roles that women should play. I’m going to play by my own rules.

“I mean… from this point forward, fuck the good guy. The one with the perfect mask in place. Look where that got me. Cheated on. Heartbroken. Used. I’m going after the type of guy my father would hate. Not only because it’ll send him completely over the edge, and I can’t wait to see it, but because the bad boys? They’re the safe bet. They don’t want wives. They don’t care about anything but having fun, no strings attached.” I

This is the perfect idea. Saint Devereaux is the bad boy of Orleans U. He’s covered in tattoos, always has a black eye or busted lips from getting into fights. He drives a freakin’ motorcycle and is a hockey enforcer with a horrid reputation. If you brought him around your dad, he would actually keel over and die. I can’t even think of anyone more perfect than him.” Okay, well, she’s right about one thing: he is absolutely an asshole and the definition of a cliché bad boy. It’s a little ridiculous, if I’m honest. Maybe that’s why he acts like that. It fits his whole broody, fuck-the-world vibe. The reason I want to strangle him with my bare hands, and I’m not even a violent person. Well, unless it comes to him.

“Yeah, he is, but on a serious note, if you do this, there has to be a rule.” Her gaze is serious as she peers over at me. “The one and only rule: don’t fall for the bad boy. Under any circumstance, do not let yourself get caught up in all of his charm. It’s a trap, and if you think being hurt by a trust fund fuckboy hurts… imagine having to see Saint around campus, flaunting his prospects in his face. Unbearable. He’s clearly good at winning people over because girls fall for it all the time. Don’t be that girl, Len.”

“Trust me, the last thing I have to worry about is falling for Saint Devereaux. Hell will freeze over before I catch any kind of feelings for its ruler.”

I probably shouldn’t be looking forward to stepping back on the ice with the princess herself as much as I am, but I’d be lying if I said that my dick wasn’t already half-mast at the prospect of seeing just how far I can push her in the next sixty minutes.

She’s already on the ice, attempting a series of twirls that have the short, bright yellow skirt she’s wearing lifting, revealing the delectable curves of her ass. I take a front-row seat

watching her move across the ice like she’s performing only for me. If she didn’t drive me fucking crazy, I’d entertain the idea of sinking my teeth into her plump little cheeks before I fisted them both in my hands and spread her open, watching how wet she gets from hating me.

picturing her on her knees with my cock stretching her throat feels a lot like Christmas morning. Who would’ve thought that prim and proper princess with a stick up her ass and not one for pleasure would have the ability to make my dick hard, but here we are.

I skate over to where she’s toeing the centerline of the ice and lean forward, dipping my head so close that I could count the freckles that are dusted across her nose and cheeks.

“You’re right. You’re in a lot of my dreams, Golden Girl. Wanna hear about ’em?”

Her breath catches, and her mouth falls open, eyes widened as ...

“You’re much nicer in them, especially when you’re bent over with your lips ...

“Oh my God, you’re disgusting...

She rolls her eyes as she crosses her arms over her chest, and I unabashedly let my gaze drop to the swell of her creamy tits that pushes against the leotard she’s wearing before lifting my eyes back to her.

“I’m saying I need you to fake date me. To just go to some events as my date, let me parade you around my father so he’ll believe that I’ve fallen for a delinquent, cliché bad boy, and so that he’ll wake up and realize I’m not the prodigy trophy wife that he’s been grooming me to be.”

Here’s Rousseau’s daughter on a silver fucking platter. The perfect little innocent virgin, ripe for me to corrupt. And once I do, I’ll make sure he knows all about it. Knows that because of his fucked up decisions I fucked with his daughter. But in order to do that, I’d have to get closer to her. To seduce her. Hard to do when she spends all of her time hating me. She’s just given me the perfect excuse to get closer to her. To dirty her up, and when I do…I’ll make sure he knows that it was Devereaux who seduced and used his daughter. He fucked with my family, so I’m going to ruin his.

He absolutely seems like the kind of guy who would have you for dinner instead.

“Fighting is my favorite foreplay, Golden Girl. Just so you know. Keep insulting me. It makes my dick hard.”

Goose bumps dust my flesh, and my heart seems to slip out of rhythm at the carnal, velvety seduction in his words. God, he’s crass and beyond inappropriate, and for some reason… my body responded to it.

He chuckles, skating closer, crossing the proverbial and literal line that separates us on the ice.