The Pucking Wrong Number: Chapter 8


‘So, have you met the mystery girl yet?’ Ari asked, throwing a puck at me as I slid on my skates.

I caught it and grinned. ‘Soon.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘So you’re still talking to her? Dude. Don’t be surprised when you find out your mystery girl is actually a 60-year-old nudist named Frank.’

I rolled my eyes, a small smirk on my lips. ‘Don’t worry, she’s real…’

‘So, you have met her?’

I forced my grin to fade away. Ari had known me for a long time, but the fact that I was basically stalking the girl at this point would come as a definite surprise to him.

I mean, fuck, it was still a surprise to me.

I had to put my gloves in front of me to try to hide the hard on I had just from thinking about our conversation last night.

I’d been catching glimpses of her every day since I’d gotten her address, but hearing her voice, the kind of voice that broke your heart and body, had me losing my mind even fucking more. It was like an angel’s, one that was dirty, with a light smoke to it that gave her innocence the lust filled undertone that would make any man desperate.

I could understand her classmate tricking her into a date.

Like I told her, desperate men do desperate things.

I could understand it, but it didn’t mean I was going to let it happen.

Once I’d allowed myself to fall over the cliff of insanity, it wasn’t a big deal to get to the step of tracking her whereabouts so I always knew where she was. When she’d texted me at the restaurant, I’d used my special app to figure out exactly what restaurant she was at…and then it was a simple phone call to buy it out for the night…starting immediately.

When I’d called the owner, he’d almost choked to death at the number I’d offered him to close for the evening, but of course he wouldn’t understand; there wasn’t a number too high when it came to my girl.

I should’ve stopped there, but hearing the fear in her voice when she’d called me…that’s how her douchebag classmate ended up in the alleyway afterwards, my fists destroying his face. I’d been wearing a ski mask, and I’d never spoken, so I wasn’t in any danger there…But I’m sure she might have questions when she saw him in class next time sporting two black eyes.

I skated onto the ice, the sound of blades against the cold surface echoing through the arena.

My mind was supposed to be focused on practice, but all I could think about was her. The girl with the wavy black hair and green eyes that had captured my soul.

“Yo, earth to Linc, you playing?’ Ari chided, breaking me out of the daze I’d fallen into thinking about her…my dream girl.

It slipped out last night, but it was an apt description for this girl who had embedded herself under my skin.

And to think she had no clue the effect she had on me.

‘So I was talking to Bender about going out on Friday when we’re in New York. You in?’ he asked as we skated around the ice.

A week ago, I would’ve been salivating at the thought. Once upon a time I thought it was delicious to mess with east coast girls. They were always wildcats in bed, sexual creatures just waiting to be unleashed under their buttoned-up cardigans and pearl earrings.

But now…the thought of any other girl was as palatable as a dick punch.

‘Let’s just go to a bar, man, and watch a game.’

Ari threw his glove at me.

‘Boys, are you hearing this? Golden Boy’s got it bad for Frank,’ he tossed out as he skated a circle around me.

‘Frank?’ Bender asked, lifting an eyebrow.

‘He’s only into older men now. You might have a chance, buddy,’ Ari called to him, never missing an opportunity to razz Bender about his age. I sighed and waited until he was skating by me again before I tripped him with my stick, sending him sprawling.

Peters chuckled next to me.

‘You being paid to gossip like you’re at a slumber party, cunt worms?’ Coach called as he skated on to the ice.

He blew his whistle a couple times for good measure, and we were off, starting with some warm-up drills, skating around the ring in laps, gradually picking up speed as we went. I was usually at the front of the pack, but I was distracted today, my mind consumed with thoughts of her. Obsessed with retracing every word that she’d said last night, and I’d started plotting when I could hear her voice again.

‘Daniels, get your motherfucking ass in gear. Unless you want New York to fuck you tomorrow night,’ he screamed. I gritted my teeth, trying to concentrate as we moved on to puck handling drills.

“Oh, he doesn’t want that,” whispered Ari slyly.

‘Dude, what’s wrong with you?’ Peters hissed as he slammed me into the glass.

I shook my head at him, going through the motions of team drills as we practiced power plays and penalty kills.

What was she doing at that moment? Was some guy talking to her? My fingers itched to grab my phone and check where she was. She was usually at the doctor’s office at this time of day, but I was desperate to make sure.

Practice finally ended, and I was the first off the ice, ignoring the grumblings of the coaches as I practically sprinted back to the locker room to check my phone. She’d sent me a text thanking me for last night, and I quickly responded, asking how her day was going. What I really wanted to ask was where she was, who she was talking to, if she was ready for me to sweep her off her feet.

It was everything I could do to try to play the fucking long game.

I groaned when my agent texted me, reminding me that I had a photo shoot tonight. That was the last thing I wanted.

Ari slid onto the bench next to me.

‘Fuck, Linc, I think that was the worst I’ve ever seen you play,’ he said dryly.

‘It’s still better than your ass,” I quipped back.

He rolled his eyes. ‘So are you going to meet her? Fuck her out of your system? Because I need your ass in the game. Half the team was still sucking balls out there.’

I reached over and punched him in the shoulder, grimacing at how sweaty he was.

‘I got this. You know that,’ I scoffed, while grabbing my stuff out of my locker and heading towards the shower.

Now, I just needed to set the plan in motion.

I was in a fucking bad mood when I got to the magazine shoot. I’d worked with this photographer before, so I tried to paste on a smile, but I already knew it would be a long night.

One of the things that my stardom brought with it was modeling gigs like this one. People loved to see me in a tight pair of underwear. Understandable, but still fucking weird that this was my life.

I was shown to my dressing room and took a minute to shoot a text to Monroe. I already knew she was in class, and that it wasn’t the class she shared with Mr. Douchebag. But she’d barely talked to me today except for her thank you text, and I was like a junkie needing my next fix. I was already furious that I was at this shoot and that I’d had to miss waiting outside her apartment and seeing her as she came home from work and headed to class.

What are you doing?

Only a few seconds passed, but I was pacing impatiently, desperate for the time when I could talk to her constantly without coming off as clingy.

Dream Girl: Having my soul ripped out in calculus. You?

How should I answer her? I couldn’t exactly explain that I was about to have oil rubbed all over my chest, and people were about to take pictures of me in my skivvies. But it was a good chance for a photo op. I stood and strolled to the mirror, angling my phone so it caught my chest and the top of my bulge.

I sent it to her.

There were dots on the phone for at least two minutes, and I could picture her typing and erasing something over and over.

Finally, one word came through, right as the makeup artist and hair team arrived.

Dream Girl: Wow.

I was a pretty confident bastard, but the wow had me wondering. Was it a good wow? Was it a holy shit, that’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen kind of wow?

This girl had me tied up in knots.

They started to pull and tug at my hair, and I kept my gaze averted from the mirror. It was one thing to snap a shot of myself for my girl, but another thing to have to stare at my face and be reminded of my brother for an hour straight.

She would’ve liked him better than me. He was always the one doing the right thing, sacrificing his hopes and dreams to make the family happy.

And I was always the one doing everything to disappoint them.

The makeup artist applied powder to my face. Something that was fucking annoying, but apparently necessary for the camera. Between that and the grease they’d lathered in my hair, I already needed a shower. I wondered what Monroe would think of all of this? Because there was no end game where she wasn’t a part of this world right along with me.

They were finally done with me, and I headed out to start the shoot. When I got out there, Carmen, the photographer, directed some girl to oil my chest.

She was one of those girls who walked around like they thought everyone should bow at their feet. It was more than obvious. She had bleached blonde hair and a nose that a surgeon gave her, along with tits they’d given her too. With the fuck me eyes she was flashing me, I could’ve had her bent over in the dressing room in a hot minute. Hell, I could’ve had her right there if I wanted to.

I waited to see if I’d imagined this new obsession, if my dick would stand at attention as she rubbed my chest.

But there was nothing, not even a spark of interest in the girl in front of me.

Good boy.

The only woman I was interested in was only available to me on the other end of my phone.

The girl tried to flirt with me, her touch lingering, and then her palm grazed my dick…not accidentally.

Suddenly, I found myself with my hand around her neck, pushing her away.

“Don’t ever touch me again,” I hissed, causing a shocked silence to descend on the crew.

Carmen hustled towards me, wringing her hands, a nervous laugh slipping from her lips. ‘Natalie, why don’t you take the rest of the night off?’ she suggested. The girl, Natalie evidently, had tears gathering in her eyes. Her face, the picture of devastation.

And I could fucking care less.

‘Your staff needs to be fucking professional,’ I snapped at Carmen. She nodded frantically, not wanting to sour our relationship. I’d made her a lot of money, after all. The staff walked back to their places, because that’s what sheep fucking do, and then I was instructed to pose a million different ways.

I wondered if Monroe would see this magazine. If she knew who Lincoln Daniels even was? I imagined her getting herself off to my photos.

I was deep in thought, picturing Monroe coming, when all of a sudden, a voice cleared. ‘Um, Lincoln…Is there something you can do about that? This publication piece isn’t X-rated.’ I glanced over at Carmen and saw she was keeping her eyes averted. It took me a second to realize I was fully aroused, the tip of my dick peeking out from the briefs I was wearing.

I quickly turned around with a curse, trying to think of puppies getting hit by cars and other dreadful things. After a few minutes, I managed to get it down. That had certainly never happened before.

‘Sorry about that,’ I said, unashamed, when I finally turned around. ‘I’ve got a new girl, and thinking about her causes problems.’

Everyone’s interest was immediately piqued, but I just flashed a false grin and posed a few more times before I was finally finished. Carmen met me at the door as I was walking to the parking lot to head home.

She handed me a photograph. ‘For your girl. I’m sure she’ll enjoy it,’ she said with a wink before walking away.

‘I know I will,’ she threw over her shoulder.

I glanced down at the picture and saw it was one of me fully aroused, a dark, lusty, almost feral look in my eyes that made it obvious I was thinking of fucking.

I grinned and threw the photo in my car, confident that sometime, very soon, Monroe would get to see that look in real life.

I climbed into the shower as soon as I made it home, washing off the oil coating my skin…but my mind got away from me. I couldn’t get the image of her out of my head. Picturing her in the shower with me, naked and wet, was the most beautiful fucking thing I’d ever seen. Her small, slippery hands gripped me tightly, exploring me like she was as addicted and as desperate for me as I was for her. Her hair was plastered to her smooth, perfect skin. Her rosy nipples peeked out. She was a goddess, my every wet dream come to life as she slowly slid her hands up and down the length of me. I was in agony, ecstasy stretched tightly across my skin as I watched her…as I felt her. I was on fire, desperate to experience her touch like that…forever. So desperate I’d die if she left.

“Lincoln,” she whispered, my name a prayer across her lips. I couldn’t even answer; I was destroyed, pleasure erupting inside me, so intense, I was sure I’d never recover from it. As her pace increased, I moaned her name and then…hot cum exploded everywhere, coating her hands, and her breasts, in ropy strands. I rubbed it into her skin…

Fuck, I was coming in real life from my little dream, emptying myself into the drain, when I should’ve been doing it with her.

The scary part…

I’d never come so hard in my life.

And she hadn’t even touched me yet.


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