Power Play (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 2)

He hasn’t moved; he’s just standing there as his eyes slowly shift to mine. “Yeah?”

I lean on my stick as Aiden heads off the ice. Once I don’t see him anymore, I say, “I apologize if I was rude and beating you down earlier. That wasn’t my intention. I just want more from you.” I don’t want to apologize. I feel I am coaching with fairness, but maybe Jakob is right. As much as I may act like I don’t care one bit for Boon, I do. I want him to succeed. “It’s in there because I see it in 5-on-5. But you get on the power play, and it’s as if you crack under the pressure, which seems off to me. That’s not your play. Can you tell me why?”

His eyes meet mine, and Lord, they are so dark. He clears his throat. “I’m unsure what to say to you because I think I’m playing the same.”

“Then that’s the problem, because you’re not.”

“Or maybe you’re letting your feelings for me off the ice play a part here.”

I raise a brow, and my heart kicks up. “Feelings? There are no feelings.”

“There are,” he says simply. “You don’t like me, and I don’t get it. I know I’m an asshole sometimes, but I feel like you’ve had it out for me since you got here.”

“That’s untrue,” I say, looking up at him. “I’m treating all of you the same. I’m even hard on my future brother-in-law. I will not kiss your ass, Hoenes.”

“Not saying you have to, but you’re holding me to a standard I may not be able to rise to and—”

“That’s bullshit,” I say, and I lean toward him. “The standard I am holding you to is one you’re already at. You just have to believe in yourself, in your play, and in your team. I can’t make you do that. It’s all on you.”

“I do believe in myself,” he snaps, and he’s wearing his frustration like armor.

“Then show me.”

“Maybe if you didn’t ride me so hard—”

“I wouldn’t ride you so hard if I didn’t care.” His eyes widen a bit. I don’t know why I said that. Not only did I say I cared, but now I’m thinking of riding him. His hands on my hips and him so fucking deep inside me. I’ve never felt the sensation, but I’m sure it’s fantastic. Problem is, this is a serious moment, and my mind is all over the place. He makes me feel funny. Makes my skin tingle and my pussy throb. He’s just so big, and he wants this so badly. I know he does. I can feel it, see it, and I want him to make it. I take in a deep breath, shaking my head as the heat courses through me. “I know there is more in you. I want it.”

When I meet his gaze, his eyes are intense, staring down at me. “I will work and get to where you want me to be.”

I wasn’t expecting that. I nod. “Thank you.” He nods too, and I wait for him to skate off, but he stands there. His eyes haven’t left mine, and I’m starting to feel self-conscious. “Something else you want to say?”

I swear his eyes drop to my lips, but surely not. “Yeah, but I don’t know how it will be perceived.”

I cock a brow as my heart races. “What do you mean?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“Well, it has to be something.”

He swallows hard and then says, “You’re really passionate about hockey.”

I blink. My heart is still pounding in my chest. “Yeah, I am.”

“Then why did you quit playing?”

“Because I wanted to coach.”

“Why?”

“I feel I have a talent when it comes to play-making. I love scoring and working for the win, but I love helping others chase that feeling more. It makes me feel good.”

Silence stretches between us, and the way he is looking at me has my body burning. It seems as if his eyes are saying so much, but I don’t know what. I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but I feel like he’s undressing me with them. It wouldn’t make sense, though. It’s obvious he thinks I’m a bitch. Hell, I might be one, but I don’t want to be. I want to be a good coach; I want to be like my dad was, hard but uplifting. “I am aware of my faults as a coach. They have been brought to my attention, and I promise I’ll work on them. I am sorry if you felt disrespected or that I don’t like you or anything like that. That’s not the case at all.”

His eyes soften as our gazes stay locked. “I didn’t see you being apologetic.”

“It’s actually quite hard, so know I care if I am.”

Boon looks away, fighting a grin. “So you do feel one way or another.”