Power Play (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 2)

Wes holds out his hands. “There are three of us, dude. Come on.”

Nico just laughs. “Bring it, you toddlers.”

Toddlers? I can’t help it; I laugh.

Aiden’s crazed gaze meets mine. “Why are you laughing?”

“He called us toddlers. It’s a pathetic comeback and kind of funny. Ignore his punk ass,” I urge, pushing Aiden back. “Score on him. Many times. Please.”

Nico’s laughter only pisses Aiden off more. “You know, you should hate him too.”

I perk a brow. “I mean, he called me a toddler, but—”

“He almost slept with her.”

Wait. What? “Huh? When?”

“Back at her cousin’s wedding. Shelli stopped it, though.”

I ignore the rage that is bubbling through my body. If I remember correctly, that wedding was last fall. Way before me. Way before us.

Still, the jealousy is real.

“It doesn’t matter. That was months ago. I’m not gonna kick his ass for that.”

Aiden scoffs. “Then kick his ass because he’s a cum dumpster!”

Wes and I laugh as we push our friend off the ice. I may not kick Nico’s ass, but I’ll sure as hell ask Posey about it.

Not that it really matters, but I still want to know.

* * *

We beat the IceCats in a nine-round shootout after a no-scoring game.

It was actually Wes who scored on Nico, winning the game for us. Somehow, Aiden kept it classy when he jumped over the boards to congratulate our best friend. I’m pretty sure he wanted to drop his gloves and start doing the “Gangnam Style” dance when Nico skated by him. He somehow restrained himself, but he did do it in the locker room. With Wes.

It was quite a show.

They wanted me to join, but I was already on my way out when a text came through that my girlfriend would be waiting for me in the tub.

Posey naked in a tub, or doing the Gangnam Style with the guys?

I always choose Posey.

I park beside her car and head up the stairs to her place. Once at her door, I find her key on my key ring and unlock her door. When I enter, I can hear the spa tub going with country music playing in her room. I lock the door as I set my keys, wallet, and phone on the bar. I head down the hall, calling out, “Lucy, I’m home.”

Her laughter makes me smile. I peel off my jacket, laying it on her bed before looking into the bathroom to find her lusciously naked and sudded up. Her hair, which is a lighter auburn in the bathroom light, is up in a high bun, and she sets me with a look.

“Really? Five-hole? You clearly had him blocker side.”

I knew she was going to give me shit for my shootout miss. As I untuck my shirt, I say, “I wasn’t confident in it. I thought you said he was weak five-hole.”

“He is. He knows that, everyone knows that, so it only works on the power play—one-on-one, blocker side.”

I give her a dry look. “Well, you dropped the puck on that one, Coach.”

She sighs, watching as I undress. “Fine, I guess I can make it up to you.”

“Damn right,” I tease as I walk fully naked into the bathroom. I already showered, but soaking in her hot-as-hell water with her naked is a perfect reason to get wet again. I stop at the toilet to take a whiz. “Tell me about your doctor’s appointment.”

She groans loudly. “Complete clusterfuck. They’ve decided I have an infection.”

I glance over to her. “Herpes?”

“Gonorrhea.”

I wiggle my cock clean before flushing the toilet and washing my hands. “I figured it was that.”

She nods as she drinks me in. “Can you wipe your dick before you get in the tub?”

I make a face. “It’s clean!”

“It has pee on the tip!”

I roll my eyes, grabbing a hand towel.

“No! That’s my good hand towel.”

“For real, Posey? They’re all good!” I yell back, and she glares.

I bend down, using her pants as she screeches, “No!”

“They’re dirty. There is nacho cheese all over them!”

“You’re disgusting,” she accuses, and I laugh.

“Keep playing. I’m gonna rub the tip of my dick all over you.”

Her lips curve as I get into the tub with her, sliding behind her so she can lean on me. I wrap my arms around her stomach, her breasts resting on my forearms as I kiss her hair. “We sound like an old married couple.”

I grin against her hair. “Is that how married couples sound?”

She nods, angling her head so she can look up into my face. A little sympathy is in her eyes, but I don’t take offense. I never saw a real couple growing up. I saw men coming in and out of the house. No one ever stayed longer than a week. “Oh God, yes. My mom and dad argue about the silliest stuff. The ongoing argument right now is the carbs. Dad is dying.”