The Hockey Captain I slept With is My Stepson

Chapter 9: How To Accidentally Reignite Everything

RAE

I noticed the ‘C’ patch on his jersey as he backed away.

“Scared of a little ice?” the player holding my kit above his head taunted me.

I tilted my head, squinting.

I’ve seen that arrogant smirk and those greyish blue eyes before. In fact, that voice…

The other players noisily cleared out of the rink through the passage behind me, prodding me with stares, laughing amongst themselves. I couldn’t look away from the captain of the Richmond Kings.

My thoughts spun wildly, haunted by the face behind that cage helmet.

I sucked in deep breaths, though none seemed to be enough. This had to be a dream. I refused to believe that this was my life because I’d done everything possible to avoid this moment.

Jameson’s deal with Coach Stetson was supposed to save me from him.

How could the universe be this cruel?

“If you’re looking for a playmate, Malachar, look closer. You’re the only kid in the room.” I crossed my arms despite my erratically beating heart. “So return my kit. Now.”

His gaze darkened, and he yanked off his helmet. “My ice. My rules, Rachel,” he growled, and my name on his lips reverberated through my body in a way I hated.

Since the lodge at Storm Creek, I’d been horny.

But it wasn’t him that I wanted. It could never be him.

“I don’t care about—“

“Why the f**k are you trespassing?”

“Trespassing?” I snorted.

“Yeah, you know what I mean. I don’t have to open a dictionary for you.” He dropped my kit at his feet and my chest tightened at the loud thump.

I almost stepped on the slippery ice. “Be careful!”

Malachar smirked like the devil again. He knew how much I treasured my work equipment. I remembered ranting to him about camera models and going on and on about specs that night at the lodge. It was boring stuff, but he had been an amazing listener and I’d never met anyone like that in my life.

Not even Mandy paid attention to me the way he had done.

“They’re expensive,” I said in a calmer voice, swallowing the invisible lump that formed in my throat.

“I recall,” he clipped. “But if my memory also serves, I recall you telling me to get lost a few days ago.” He skated round my kit, then used the end of his stick to drive it into one of the nets.

Malachar fisted the air, like this was a game and he’d just scored the winning goal.

A moment after, he skated over, an annoyingly perfect smile plastered on his face.

Rage burned through me like wildfire. I glanced at my kit in the net across the rink and clenched my fists until it hurt.

“For the record, I still want you to get lost.”

“Mhmm.” He stopped in front of me, bobbing his head, his voice dropping to a purr. “So why can’t you stay away?”

The line between the rubber flooring and the ice was the only thing separating us. His padded jersey brushed my plaid shirt and his broad shoulders caged me in until I had nowhere to hide. Unwanted heat consumed me, cooking my brain in the process because tell me why I was staring at his mouth like a starved woman.

“Why?” His dulcet voice repeated in my ear.

“Boys!”

I jumped away from Malachar, moving over to the player benches, cupping my cheeks to hide how flushed I was.

Coach Stetson surfaced from the enclosed passage, then frowned at the empty rink.

“Reps are over already?” He looked between us with confusion.

“Yeah. We’re set.” Malachar took off his skates and sat on a bench to wear his shoes.

I just stood there, as awkward as a scarecrow, musing over my f****d up life.

“Great, then. Have you uh met Ms. Rosier? She’s the documentarian incharge of the new project I spoke to you about at Sandy’s—“

“It’s Mrs. Kane. And of course, I’ve met my step mom, coach.” Malachar’s eyes bored pits into my soul, yet I couldn’t read him.

Stetson looked utterly confused. “Step mom?” He turned to me just as Malachar stood up to leave. “Is this true?”

I watched Malachar’s intimidating back as he walked away. Kane and the number eleven were boldy written there. The muscles beneath his jersey worked as he moved, and I remembered digging my fingers into them while he f****d me on that dining table with his impossibly thick c**k.

His accusation kept ringing in my head. Why couldn’t I stay away really?

Madness. I needed urgent mental care.

“Hello?!”

My head snapped up. “Did you say something?”

“Yes, I’m assuming you withheld your identity so you wouldn’t affect Mal in any way.”

If I had known what I was getting myself into, this side of the city would have been permanently off-limits.

My job at Wondra TV was more than just an income source. It gave me worth. I wanted to impress Jameson and beat Jennifer’s ass fair and square. I wanted that promotion, too.

In the past, I wasn’t allowed to be selfish. I was also used to things not going my way. For the first time, I desired a change. I had so much to prove with this deal.

But Jason was in the picture now. And even though he wasn’t picking my calls and was making me worry, he was one more thing to live and fight for.

Could I draw the line professionally and morally? Could I confidently say I wasn’t attracted to my own stepson?

“I think this is good for us. We can paint him as a family oriented guy to the public—“

“Coach.” I shook my head, suddenly feeling like it was on the verge of splitting in two. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. I quit.”