Page 33 of Loaded Laces

She pauses.

And I realize that I’m staring.

That I’m so caught up in the beauty of her, I haven’t processed she’s expecting an answer.

“Got it,” I manage to rasp out.

She nods then rounds the desk and moves to the door of her office, pulling it open so I can see the hallway beyond.

Heroffice.

The new head coach of the Eagles, Diana Connors.

The first female head coach in the league.

And the object of my fantasies since she first showed up at training camp.

“I’ll see you out on the ice,” she says in that quiet, sure,melodicvoice.

And…

I’m staring again.

Committing every freckle, every eyelash to memory.

Obsessed.

She clears her throat, brow furrowing. “Hudson?” she asks quietly. “Is everything okay?”

I nod. “Sorry,” I mutter, shoving to my feet, and moving to the door, feeling like a fucking lumbering giant as I get close to her. “Just tired,” I add by way of explanation. “I’ll be good by practice though.”

Her expression smooths. “Okay, Huddy,” she says. “I’ll let you get dressed.”

That does something to me.

No, notsomething.

Her soft voice calling me my nickname wraps invisible fingers around my cock and strokes.

Stupid.

I bob my head at her and start to step into the hall.

“Huddy?”

I stop, glance over my shoulder.

She opens her mouth.

But I never do hear her question…

Because that moment, the world starts violently shaking.