Penalty Counted (Salt Lake Pumas Book 3), page 1
Penalty Counted
© 2020 Camellia Tate. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Chapter One
Chase
Nothing could get my blood pumping like playing hockey. Except maybe sex. But watching cars drive past me at incredible speeds came a pretty close third! I could smell the diesel, hear the squeal of the tires, practically see the determination in the drivers’ eyes.
I knew what that was like. All my life, I’d trained to make it to the NHL. Once I actually made it, I was sure as fuck going to enjoy myself.
Within six months of moving to Salt Lake City, Utah, the press branded me a ‘bad boy’. I wore the name with pride. People say ‘work hard, play hard’, but that’s for people with boring jobs. Bankers and lawyers and secretaries. My motto was ‘play hard, party harder’.
And that was just what me and Flynn were going to do! Our captain, Luke, drove us to the racetrack in his stupidly huge car, eight revved-up hockey players chanting and singing all the way.
Even if the race wasn’t as exciting as a hockey match, I was on the edge of my seat by the end of the final lap.
I jumped up, tingling with restless energy. “Come on,” I called, eyes scanning the rows of seats around me. “I want to go meet the drivers.”
Chuck laughed as he pushed me out of the way. “Are you sure you’re excited enough?” he teased just as Flynn joined us, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
“Chase is always excited enough,” he informed Chuck confidently. I saw Luke roll his eyes from next to us. He seemed a lot less interested in going to meet the drivers, but Alfie was positively beaming; I felt we were off to a good start. At least the majority of the guys wanted that, too.
“Are we even allowed to see the drivers?” Chuck asked, looking at Luke like he would have all the answers. He was the captain, so it was a pretty good guess.
“I’d like to see them try and stop you, with Chase in the lead,” Luke answered. I grinned. Sometimes, it was hard to tell exactly where the line was between fun and being a pain in Luke’s ass. I’d crossed it before, and he hadn’t been afraid to tell me.
Which just meant that I knew what to expect if I got it wrong again.
“Of course we’re allowed,” I added. I had no way of knowing that, but I felt that it had to be true. And anyway, I wanted to try. “Don’t be such wet weeds. Have a little backbone!”
“Wet weeds,” Flynn repeated, giving me a look. I shrugged. It was true! “But yeah, I’m with Chase, who’s going to turn away a bunch of pro-hockey players?” I, personally, felt that was very fair.
Luke shook his head but the other guys grinned. “Alright, but if they tell us to fuck off, you’re buying all the drinks,” Chuck informed me, his tone teasing. It wasn’t like I couldn’t afford it, so sure, whatever, no reason not to.
The drivers weren’t difficult to find. We just followed the crowd, pushing our way through until we were at the front. I could feel people recognizing us, whispering behind their hands. It happened every time we went out as a group. I never got tired of it.
I could still remember when I’d been in their place. My dad had taken me to so many NHL games where I’d watched the stars dazzle on the ice. I knew what it was like to stand in awe of them. And now I was among them — a rising star myself.
“Do you want an autograph, babe?” I asked, spotting a gorgeous woman in a baseball cap, eyes sparkling as she watched us elbow our way through the crowd.
She tilted her head. I wasn’t sure if that was at the offer or at me calling her ‘babe’. Whichever it was, there was definitely a glint of amusement in her eye. That just made me grin wider. I liked how teasing her look was. Before I could ask who to make the autograph out to, Olle, our goalie, gave me a shove.
“You should ask her for an autograph,” the Swede informed me. When I looked blankly at him, Olle shook his head. Glancing back at the woman, I could tell she was still finding the whole thing amusing.
Was she famous or something? She definitely didn’t appear insulted by my lack of recognition of her. That, really, just made me grin wider at her as I heard Olle sigh behind me.
“She won the race, you dipshit,” Olle said, shaking his head, before turning to the woman. “He’ll have your autograph.”
I made my eyes go wide, taking an exaggerated step back to take her in. She was, I could see now, wearing racing gear. And fuck, it looked good on her! I’d seen plenty of men flushed with victory, but this was something else entirely.
“We’ll swap,” I decided, grinning and getting a smirk back. “I’m Chase Williams, and these losers are the rest of the Salt Lake City Pumas.” Not all of them, of course, but that hardly seemed important.
The first scrap of paper I found was my race ticket, so I turned it over and scrawled my name and cell number on the back. “We’re also used to winning,” I informed her.
She laughed, a sort of music to my ears. Olle gave another exasperated sigh, but it seemed like luck was on my side. Olle was the only one out of us three who seemed to mind my attitude.
“Morgan Acton,” she said, looking down at the ticket I’d handed her. When she saw what I’d written on it, I could see her smile deepen. There was no sort of blush, like I might’ve expected. That, I realized, was oddly hot in its own right.
Confidence poured off her in waves.
“Right, great,” Olle sighed. He walked off, leaving me with eyes on Morgan.
“I’ll sign a thing for him, too,” she promised me. “He seems the jealous type.”
I laughed, which made Morgan’s smile even brighter. I itched to snatch that baseball cap off her head and let her shake her hair free. I wanted to run my fingers through it, bend her backward and kiss that glorious smile right off her lips.
“Oh, I’ll make sure I hold that over his head until he’s nice to me,” I teased. I wouldn’t really. Olle and I were pretty different, but I loved him like a brother. Just like the rest of the Pumas.
Except for Flynn. Flynn was closer than a brother. But if he knew I was thinking about him when I should have been hitting on a gorgeous woman, he’d never let me hear the end of it.
“How did you get into racing?” I asked.
“Family business, kind of,” Morgan answered, leading me to one side. This definitely put us in closer proximity to each other. Her interest in me was at least on the same lines as mine was in her.
Her blonde ponytail bounced as she shook her head, which was only a little bit less distracting than the way her tongue darted over her lips to wet them. “Two of my older brothers also race, our dad used to when he was younger, so it all just clicked together,” she explained. “What about you? Why hockey?”
“Because it’s the best sport in the world,” I answered immediately. Racing was cool too, but hockey was still better. Hockey was the best. I couldn’t remember a time I hadn’t thought so.
In fact, it was hard to remember how I got into hockey, I’d been so young at the time. I shrugged. “My friend Flynn was into it, so I was into it.” That was how our childhood had been - neither of us could get into anything without the other following suit.
“And then we both got good enough to make the NHL,” I added. What was the point in pretending to be modest? Sure, Flynn and I had been fortunate - but we’d also worked damn hard.
“That’s fun,” Morgan decided. “I’ve loved racing with my brothers, so I bet it’s great to go through this with your best friend. And you said you play on the same team? That’s lucky.” It was. Neither of us had been drafted by the Pumas but we’d both ended up trading there, which was pretty cool.
Turning my head, I grinned at Flynn who gave us a small wave but, like a true bro, didn’t bother coming over.
I nodded. “Not that we don’t have a blast playing against each other, too,” I added. “There’s no feeling like kicking my best friend’s butt on the ice. But I bet you know that, if you have brothers.” I hadn’t grown up with siblings, but I’d been around boys my own age enough to know how competitive urges could develop.
“So, how do you like to celebrate a win?” I asked, lowering my voice and lifting one eyebrow.
The way Morgan both caught my meaning and grinned was exciting. She wasn’t at all put off by how direct I was in my appreciation of her. That sort of confidence was hot. Especially when she ran that tongue over her lips again, this time definitely very intentionally.
“I can think of a few ways,” she commented. “I’ve got some pretty nice trophies if you’re interested in seeing them,” she informed me. And fuck, yes, I was interested. It was hard not to jump in, to not sound too eager.
I grinned back, making no attempt to hide the simmering arousal bubbling away in the pit of my stomach. “Who better than an athlete to appreciate trophies?” I asked.
It took me a moment to realize I didn’t know where Morgan lived. Just because she raced near Salt Lake didn’t necessarily mean she was from the area.
Not that it mattered. I wasn’t looking to date her. I hadn’t dated anyone since my first year as a rookie. It was going to take a lot more than a flirty smile and a tumble of blonde hair to get me to change that habit.
“Are you staying nearby?” I asked. “My captain gave me a lift up here, but I assume you have a car?”
Morgan laughed, like it was a funny thing to say. I had no idea why it would be but I was happy to make her laugh. “I have a car,” she promised. “I need to wrap a few things up before I go, maybe sign some autographs,” she teased. “But if you meet me in the parking lot in... say twenty?”
So this was definitely happening. I knew I was good, but this had got to be a record even for me!
“Sure,” I agreed. “I’m looking forward to it. I’ve never been driven by a professional racing driver before.” That made Morgan laugh. My stomach turned over in excitement and anticipation. Twenty minutes seemed almost too long to wait - but I needed to tell the guys where I was off to. I wouldn’t want them to worry.
Besides, when had I ever turned down an opportunity to brag? After assuring Morgan I could find the parking lot by myself, I wandered back to where Flynn was finishing up with a couple of kids who wanted him to sign their shirts.
“Man, I am good,” I informed him, smug grin plastered all over my face. “Were you taking notes?”
Flynn rolled his eyes, without me having even clarified what I was talking about. “I saw you give her your number in like the first three seconds. That’s more desperate than good,” he informed me.
Glancing over to where Morgan was answering some questions for the journalists, I grinned. Whatever Flynn might think, I was good. And soon I’d get to see exactly how great Morgan looked under all that driving gear. She winked at me and Flynn’s eyes snapped to me.
As if he could read my mind - and sometimes, I was sure that Flynn could - he frowned. “Wait, are you serious? She said yes. Well, fuck, maybe you really are good.”
I beamed. “How can you doubt me, Flynn? You should know better. Just because you can’t judge when a woman is interested to save your life…” That wasn’t true, of course. I’d never allow my best bro to be hopeless with women, and Flynn didn’t need much help from me.
“She’s going to take me to see her trophies,” I added. “At least, I think she is. Maybe she’s just going to take me to her hotel room to fuck.” I still hadn’t found out where she lived. Or anything about her except her name and her career.
But did I really need to? I knew that Morgan was hot. That seemed like plenty to know. Hot and willing! We were going to celebrate her win and I fully planned for both of us to enjoy the fuck out of it.
“I guess, I’ll tell Luke you don’t need a ride home,” Flynn teased. “But give me a call if you do need rescuing,” he added. I wasn’t planning to need any sort of rescuing, but it was definitely an appreciated offer.
Morgan didn’t exactly look crazy, but you could never tell for sure.
She was worth the risk, I had no doubt of that. I trusted myself to get out of trouble if I needed to, but I didn’t think that it would come to that.
“So, what about you?” I asked. “Spot anyone you like? I’ve got time to play wingman for a bit.” I was mostly teasing. Like I said, Flynn didn’t need my help.
But I had time to kill. Morgan was still signing autographs, absolutely a sight to behold as she smiled at a knot of young women who’d formed around her.
Flynn laughed at my question, shaking his head. “It’s a race, Chase, not a bar,” he pointed out. I just shrugged. It might not be the usual sort of place you picked up women, but if it had worked for me, I was sure it could work for Flynn.
I didn’t push it. Not when I could keep watching Morgan instead. She was in her element. It made me wonder if that somehow made her even more attractive.
Then again, I bet she would be attractive in any sort of environment!
Giving Flynn a brotherly punch on the arm by way of goodbye, I sauntered off to see what else I could find. After all, Morgan had promised to sign something for Olle, and if I really wanted to hold it over him, it was going to have to be something better than a ticket stub.
I had to wait in line for a while, but I did find a white cap which would take an autograph excellently - and a Sharpie to sign it with. Olle wouldn’t be able to say I hadn’t thought of everything.
It did make me a bit late. And I didn’t know what Morgan’s car might look like, or where it might be.
Heading for the VIP area, I kept my eyes peeled. She wouldn’t have left without me, I was sure of that. And besides, she had my number if she needed to get moving.
Content to wait until she found me, I stepped into the shade behind the ticket office, leaning my back against the wall and stretching my legs out in front of me.
I smiled to myself, very well pleased with how my evening was turning out!
Chapter Two
Morgan
Nothing got my adrenaline pumping the way winning did. But sex was definitely a close second. So, of course, when an opportunity like this presented itself, I was hardly going to turn it down. Chase had practically offered to let me take him home and have fun. I fully intended to take him up on that offer.
In the twenty minutes I’d told him to wait, our eyes kept meeting. Every time I caught him watching me, heat spread through my body. With his light brown hair and matching brown eyes, Chase was very attractive. His cheekbones were sharp and his shoulders wide.
Being a professional athlete, I had no doubt I’d find some beautifully defined muscles under the clothes he was wearing. It would be the perfect way to celebrate!
Once I’d excused myself from the press, I made my way to the parking lot. It was slightly later than the twenty minutes I had told Chase, so it was pleasing to see him there already.
“Hope you haven’t been waiting too long,” I commented, shooting a grin at him. “My car’s this way,” I added, nodding towards the left that would take us to my car. It was an old, converted rally car and it was definitely my baby.
He grinned as he fell into step beside me, giving me a chance to appreciate his face in profile. He wasn’t just athletic - he was handsome. Which only made me more eager to get him home.
“The wait will be worth it, I’m sure,” he told me, tone dripping with confidence. There was no beating around the bush or pretending we were really going to admire my trophies. I appreciated that. Pretending was a waste of energy which could be much better spent on more rewarding activities.
He paused when we reached my car, full lips parting slightly. “Wow,” he breathed. It was pretty much the same reaction I had every time I thought about it. “That’s amazing. Did you actually race in it?”
The admiration was pleasing. I always thought more of people who recognized a good car for being a good car. But then, I was also very biased.
“No,” I answered easily. “It’s a bit before my time. I bought it a few years back and my dad and I restored it. I mean, my brothers helped a bit,” I shrugged. It had mostly been dad and me, which was what made it so special. “You couldn’t race in it now, it’s been adapted back into being a street car.” Clicking the button on my keys, I unlocked it.
Once we were inside, I turned to give Chase a grin. “Have you ever been driven by a professional racer?” I teased.
He’d already told me that he hadn’t, but I wanted to see that excitement light up his brown eyes again. I wasn’t disappointed. Chase looked at me like I’d just granted a decade’s worth of Christmas wishes all in one moment.
“No, I haven’t,” Chase repeated. “I already bragged to my best friend about getting to ride with you.” And I would bet that wasn’t all Chase had bragged about.
Before I could say as much, he leaned across the center console, his big, broad hand coming up to cup my cheek. He planted his lips on mine, applying a gentle pressure that made my heart skip a beat.
Parting my lips, I let Chase lick his way into my mouth. My tongue met his, sending a thrill through me. The gentle kiss quickly deepened into something much harder. It made my whole body vibrate with excitement.
I leaned across the gap between our seats, seriously considered just crawling in his lap right here and right now. But that would be an awful idea. And besides, I wasn’t a teenager; I could wait. Probably.
