Page 137 of Risking the Pucking Defense

Biting down on my bottom lip, I stand there watching, feeding my growing obsession with this man as he switches legs, his deep moans continuing.

My own abs begin to burn just watching him.

“Fuck,” he gasps when he’s finished and collapses on the mat.

His chest heaves, and he looks over his right shoulder as the woman on his cell screen gives instructions for what to do next.

He takes another deep breath before he flips onto his right side, giving me his back and getting into a side plank.

His back and shoulders ripple, and instead of announcing my presence, I shamelessly rest my hip against the wall and just watch. My only regret is not having my cell so that I could film it for later.

He holds himself in position like a pro as he lowers his hip to the ground and back up again for a few reps, and then he adds in leg movements. Honestly, it’s so seamless, if I didn’t know he was watching a tutorial, I’d think he was filming one himself. He’s incredible, and his strength is mind-blowing.

I knew he was fit—he’s a hockey player for fuck’s sake. What they put their bodies through on a daily basis is something else. But this…I’m blown away.

With a few more grunts and groans, he brings his foot back to the mat before moving the other side, but instead of keeping his eyes on the screen, he turns his back on it.

My breath catches when his eyes land on me.

“Oh,” he breathes, a smile spreading across his lips.

There’s no covering the fact I’ve been here watching for a while with the way I’m resting against the wall.

But despite having an audience, he doesn’t stop. Instead, he gets straight into position and begins repeating his previous movements—only this time, I get the joy of watching the front of his body.

Insane. Fucking insane.

Our eye contact holds as he works through each exercise, and once he’s done, he lowers his ass to the mat and pulls his AirPods out.

“So, you do Pilates?” I ask.

“It’s Parker’s fault,” he says, crossing his legs and opening his chest as he takes a big breath.

“Right.”

“She dragged us to classes. It’s really fucking hard work.”

“It is,” I agree.

“But I kinda love it. The control, the focus on breathing…and I think it’s helped me on the ice, so…”

“I’m more of a yoga girl,” I explain as I move to his couch.

He smiles. “Yeah?”

“I’m not a fan of inflicting pain on myself.”

“It feels so good, though,” he assures me.

“It looks good,” I comment with a smirk, letting my eyes drop to his sweaty body.

“I don’t usually do it practically naked. I just didn’t want to wake you by getting clothes.”

“I am not complaining. Please,” I say, gesturing to where his cell is still playing the tutorial. “Don’t stop on my account.”

He laughs as he reaches over to stop it.

“How about you join me?” he suggests. “I have another mat.” He gets to his feet and reaches behind his couch before unrolling it beside his.