The Pucking Wrong Number: A Hockey Romance (The Pucking Wrong Series Book 1)

I watched in a stupor for a moment as Monroe walked away. Again. I only had so much patience, and there would come a time—very soon—when I’d make sure she never tried to leave again. When she wouldn’t even think about doing it.

Carolyn reached out her hand to touch me, but I jerked away and stalked Monroe, who was pushing through the crowd like her life depended on it.

“Lincoln,” Carolyn breathed desperately behind me. Whoever invited that bitch to this party was going to be blacklisted. I’d hooked up with her a few times over the years, until I learned how sharp her claws were when I overheard her destroying a young fan about her weight who’d been waiting to meet me outside the locker room—all because it was interfering with me taking Carolyn to dinner.

I forgot all about Carolyn when I saw someone spill their beer all over Monroe as she passed by. She stumbled, clearly frustrated and on the verge of tears. The crowd was thick and slow-moving, but I bulldozed my way through it, fueled by the need to reach her. They parted much easier for me than they did for her, and in just a few seconds, she was within reach. I grabbed her hand, pulling her close to me. She froze in my grip, her body tensing as I pulled her closer. Relief rushed through me when she didn’t try to move away, at least not until we were in the elevator, and the doors hid the sight of the party raging out of control.

The second we were alone, she recoiled from me, retreating to the far corner. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, and she was trembling. I hit the emergency button to stop the elevator and closed the distance between us, pressing her against the wall. She struggled against my hold, but I pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, the other one coming to rest lightly around her throat, my thumb tracing the rhythm of her fluttering pulse, the beat of it somehow soothing to me.

“What’s wrong, dream girl?” I murmured as she glared at me with red-rimmed eyes that I wanted to drown in.

“What’s wrong, Lincoln? Are you serious?” she spat, her voice thick with sarcasm…and a hint of despair. “I don’t even know what we’re doing right now. Why am I with you? Why did you bring me to this party? A room full of women desperate to have you, and you let them touch you. You let them have pieces of you, all while my cum was dried all over your face!”

A sob escaped her, and a sense of satisfaction washed over me. A small smirk pulled at my lips as she struggled against my grasp, but I couldn’t help it. Her jealousy eased something inside me, a glimmer of hope that this consuming, relentless hunger I felt was reciprocated. It was a monster that had grown stronger with every passing moment, but maybe, just maybe, she could feel its claws digging into her skin as well.

I felt her stop struggling, and a tear trailed down her face. “I just met you and I already feel like I’m losing my mind,” she whispered.

I tilted my head, studying her intently. ‘Well, at least I’m not alone then,’ I responded, before sliding my tongue up her cheek, capturing the salty droplet. I ached to claim every part of her, to make her mine in every way possible.

But for now, a tear would do.

She was absolutely silent on the drive back to her shithole apartment, if it could even be called that. I could feel her walls building up, a fortress she thought would protect her heart as I waged war on it. Somehow she hadn’t realized yet that she was in a losing battle. I was already at the gates.

She’d already lost.

My dream girl got jealous tonight. And while it was hot as fuck…it also wouldn’t do. All I wanted to do for Monroe was to make her happy, to claim her as mine.

With what I’d read about her past in the background check, it wasn’t hard to guess that Monroe wasn’t used to being wanted, wasn’t used to someone putting her first.

I’d make sure she never had to worry about that again.

We pulled in front of her run-down building and she immediately tried to escape, sighing in frustration when she realized she couldn’t figure out how to unlock it—not noticing, of course, that I’d engaged the child lock for this exact situation with her. I suppressed a smirk, turned off the ignition, and stepped out of the car, taking my sweet time walking over to her. I hated the thought of being away from her for even a second.

Once I reached her side, I grabbed her hand and led her to her door, grimacing and scowling at the sight of her dilapidated apartment building. But her days at this place were numbered. A few more steps in my plan, and she’d be out of this dump permanently. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about her tonight. I’d copied her key, and after she fell asleep…we’d be having a sleepover party.

Other people might call that scary stalker behavior.

I called it true love.

“Bye, Lincoln,” she said between gritted teeth, her emerald eyes flashing with fury.

I chuckled and leaned down, my lips crushing hers, knowing there was nothing I could do to quash this ache inside of me that was desperate to own her body and soul. I was so addicted to this girl, it was impossible to think straight.

Which must be why I’d absolutely lost my mind.

“Bye, dream girl,” I purred with a wink, my eyes trailing over her blushing cheeks, a reaction she couldn’t hide even while pretending to hate me.

I’ll be back soon.

An hour and a half passed before I found myself standing in front of her shithole apartment, key in hand. With a soft click, the lock gave way, and I stepped inside, the darkness enveloping me as I closed the door behind me. Her steady breathing filled the space, and I couldn’t help but hover in the doorway for a moment, taking in the sight of her sleeping form.

I bet that bed fucking sucked, and I also bet I would get better sleep being next to her than I would anywhere else.

She had mentioned in one of our texts that she slept like the dead, and I was eager to put that to the test tonight.

I knew what I was doing was wrong, that I should resist the temptation, but I couldn’t help myself. Once I succumbed, that was it. I could see myself doing it every night. Unable to stop. Hence why she needed to move in pronto. We’d both be better off in my bed.

It only took me a few steps to cross the room, and I was standing next to her. The moonlight streaming in from the window illuminated her sleeping form, casting her in a soft, ethereal glow. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, her breaths coming deep and even. Strands of her dark hair were splayed across the pillow, fanned out like a halo around her head. Her lips were slightly parted, a small sigh escaping them every now and then.

In the pale light, her skin looked like it was made of ivory, smooth and unblemished. She was a study in contrasts, with the darkness of her lashes against the paleness of her skin, and the wildness of her hair against the serenity of her expression. It was hard to look away from her, to resist the urge to reach out and touch her, to run a finger over the curve of her cheek.

Dark possessiveness crashed over me like a wave, wrapping around my insides and squeezing tight…choking me.

Mine. It was all I could think.

My cock was instantly rock hard, pressing against my fly so painfully, I was a little afraid I would pass out. It felt like if I didn’t fuck her…or something…I would literally lose my mind.

I unbuttoned my jeans and quietly pulled the zipper down, breathing a little easier when there wasn’t so much fucking pressure.

I stared down at my sleeping angel. I’d never experienced this kind of lust. The kind that barreled its way deep inside of you, haunting you every second. I gripped my cock with my hand, squeezing at the base because I was on the edge of coming just by fucking watching her. She sighed, and I could picture those plump, perfect lips wrapped around my throbbing length. I gave my cock one slow stroke, pre-cum beading at the head. I thrusted forward into my fist, imagining fucking her mouth, her eyes watering, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked, my cum spilling down her chin.

Fuck.

I was coming, as hard as I had in the shower. I had to bite down on my lip to hold in my groan. The metallic tang of blood coated my tongue. I lapped it up, the pain helping to center me, for at least a moment. I’d probably be hard again in a minute. It had been a problem since the first time I’d seen her picture.

I stared down at the mess I’d made of my fist. And then I glanced over to Monroe. A primal need to mark her overtook me, a force beyond my control. It crashed over me like a wave, a fierce and all-consuming hunger. Suddenly, I was someone else entirely, a stranger in my own skin, driven by a desperate craving to make her mine. With a slow, deliberate movement, I reached out and brushed my thumb along her full bottom lip, softly spreading my cum.

She didn’t even stir.

It was a satisfying sight, watching her full lips glistening with my cum, knowing that when she woke in the morning, she’d taste nothing but me.

I watched her for another hour, resisting getting into bed with her. Finally I slid to the ground and leaned against the door. I’d doze for a couple of hours and then slip out before she woke up at six.

I stepped into the weight room, my mind already heavy with thoughts of her…and I’d just left her apartment. I needed this workout to focus on something else, even if only for a little while. Ari was already there, doing some bicep curls in front of the mirror. He shot me a cheeky grin when he saw me in the glass.

‘Well, look who it is,’ he said, smirking.

“Shut the fuck up, asshole,” I snorted, heading straight for the bench press. I added more weight than usual, needing the burn to distract me from her. I lifted it with ease, the metal groaning under the weight. Ari watched with amusement as I continued to push myself harder.

‘So I’m assuming you didn’t get laid last night,’ he commented, but I ignored him.

I tried to get in the zone, focusing on the burn as I lifted the weights over and over again. Sweat dripped down my forehead and onto the mat beneath me as I pushed myself harder.

I thought the burn would be enough to distract me, but it wasn’t working either. All I could think about was her. Was she having a good day at work? Would she need anything?

Finally, I finished my set, letting the weight clatter back onto the rack. I sat up, panting and covered in sweat, not feeling better in the least.

I looked over at Ari, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a smirk on his face.

‘What’s with that look?’ I drawled, setting the weight down and taking a swig of water. “Jealous of my form?”

Ari chuckled. ‘It’s just a weird thing to see Lincoln Daniels gone for a girl.’

I rolled my eyes, but of course he was right. He’d find it even weirder if he knew about everything else I’d been up to lately. ‘She’s perfect. She’s everything,’ I admitted.

Ari snorted. ‘This is going to be good. I hope she’s giving you a hard time.’

I sighed and wiped my face with a towel. ‘She’s trying. It’s not going very well for her,’ I shot back with a smirk.

Ari chuckled, shaking his head for a second before his tone softened. ‘Are you sure about this? She doesn’t seem like the others, Linc. You might wreck this one when you’re done. And that’s saying something considering the pile of crazy, obsessed girls you’ve left all over.’

‘It won’t be like the others. She’s the one,’ I said firmly, lifting the dumbbell again for a second set, not wanting to think about puck bunnies and the problem she’d had with them last night.

His eyes widened. “Well, I’ll be damned, boys. Lincoln Daniels is in love!” he shouted to the rest of the team scattered around the weight room.

I held up a middle finger as their taunts and cheers exploded in the air.

I finished my last set, sweat dripping down my face, and I caught Ari’s eye again. He was grinning wider now, clearly enjoying my torment. He was waiting for me to object. Because that was something we both didn’t do. We didn’t catch feelings. Ever.

But I didn’t try to deny it. Because he wasn’t wrong.

I was in love.