The Pucking Wrong Number: A Hockey Romance (The Pucking Wrong Series Book 1)
The Pucking Wrong Number: Chapter 21

I opened my eyes slowly, taking in my surroundings. The morning light was filtering in through the windows, casting the room in a soft glow.

I’d slept over.

I was in Lincoln’s bed.

And I’d slept through the night…peacefully.

That was a first.

I glanced around, my eyes taking in the details of the room.

The walls were painted a dark gray, giving the room a cozy, intimate feel. The bed was a massive, king-size affair, covered in soft, plush blankets and pillows, sheets white and crisp. I couldn’t help but blush as I remembered the events of the night before.

The room was decorated with dark wood furniture, all of it masculine and sophisticated. A large, flat-screen TV hung on the wall opposite the bed, surrounded by various sports memorabilia. I noticed a door to the left of the bed, leading to an en suite bathroom.

I rolled over and buried my face in his pillow, breathing in the faint scent of his cologne, trying to calm down.

Suddenly, it hit me again.

I was in Lincoln’s bed.

And the sun was definitely higher than it usually was when I woke up.

I was late for work.

I sprung out of bed, glancing around the room desperately for the leggings I’d had on last night. I finally found them folded neatly on a chair. After throwing them on, I ran into the bathroom to splash some water on my face.

Fuck. Everyone would know what I’d been up to last night. There were marks peppered all over my skin, my hair resembled a bird’s nest, and…I was radiating. Like Lincoln had given me some of his golden glow.

Interesting.

I rushed into the hallway to replace Lincoln and hopefully get a ride to my place to grab some different clothes. The place was enormous, and I took several wrong turns before I finally spotted him in the open kitchen, with his bare back facing me. It was ridiculous how defined and sculpted his muscles were, like God had spent way more time on him than everyone else.

Fuck, he was beautiful.

Sadly, the kitchen island was blocking my view of his lower half. But obviously, I knew it was just as delicious.

I realized then that he was flipping pancakes, and they smelled mouthwatering. Evidently, he wasn’t as bad in the kitchen as he claimed.

I must have made a noise because his attention turned to me, his gaze quickly heating as his eyes roamed over my body, getting caught on the marks on my neck and the tangled mess that was my hair.

Heat crept up my neck, and I suddenly felt shy. He smiled knowingly, the kind of grin that could only come after someone sucked your dick.

‘I was going to bring you breakfast in bed,’ he purred, gesturing to the table piled high with enough pancakes, bacon, and eggs to feed an army.

“I thought you didn’t cook,” I reminded him, lifting an eyebrow.

“Mrs. Bentley prepared all this. I’m just heating up the batter,” he admitted bashfully, turning back to the pan. “But I’ve only burned three of them so far. So you should go hop back into bed and I’ll be there in a minute with your feast.”

‘I can’t stay,’ I said reluctantly, feeling guilty for ruining his plan. ‘I’m already late for work.’

He turned, his lips pursed, something that looked an awful lot like frustration flashing in his gaze.

‘Come on, Monroe,’ he said, his voice low and persuasive. ‘You work so hard. Take the day off, just this once. We can spend the day together, do something fun.’

I shook my head. ‘I can’t just call in sick, Lincoln. I need the money for rent. Literally, every paycheck counts right now,’ I explained haltingly, feeling beyond embarrassed admitting that to someone who had never worried about money before in his life.

He seemed to realize his mistake and set the spatula down, coming over and brushing a kiss across my lips. ‘I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just want to spend time with you. And I feel bad you’re always working so hard.’

Hysterical laughter bubbled up inside of me, and I swallowed it down. I wanted to spend time with him too, but I couldn’t afford to lose a day’s pay. ‘I have to go,’ I told him firmly, freaking out more when I glanced over at the clock and saw that my shift had started twenty minutes ago. I was so fucked.

‘Of course,’ he said easily, his eyes softening. ‘We’ll go right now.’

Lincoln pulled up in front of my apartment and walked me inside. I didn’t have time to take a shower, so I just threw on some clean clothes and tamed my hair into a sleek bun.

Lincoln never took his eyes off me. His mood seemed to grow stormier with every passing second.

“Like that you’ll smell like me all day, baby,” he murmured, burying his face in my neck when I tried to pass by.

When we got to the doctor’s office, Lincoln parked and trailed behind me.

‘I’ll see you later,’ I told him, trying to hurry inside, but Lincoln laced his fingers through mine before I could escape and followed me into the office. ‘You don’t have to come in. I’m good.’

He brushed a kiss across my forehead. ‘Just want to make sure you don’t get in trouble for being late.’

I snickered. ‘Going to use your celebrity status?’

‘Something like that,’ he smirked, clearly amused.

As we walked into the doctor’s office, I noticed Dr. Kevin was already there…which was odd since I didn’t think he’d ever rolled into work before ten since I’d started here. His eyes widened briefly when he saw Lincoln, and his gaze flicked to the black flowers I’d been sent yesterday. Someone had moved them back to my station. I shifted, slightly embarrassed. I’d always kept my personal life separate from work…not that I’d ever had a real personal life before. And this was throwing everything in the mixing bowl at once.

‘You’re late,’ Dr. Kevin said coolly, his gaze studying me with a critical eye. It was too warm today to get away with wearing a scarf or something else that would hide the marks on my neck…and he was definitely noticing them.

I opened my mouth to apologize, but before I could say anything, Lincoln stepped in.

‘We lost track of time,’ he said smoothly, his hand possessively on my waist, his voice laced with an insinuation that made me flush, but also didn’t help the situation at all. I’m sure that was what every employer loved to hear—that their employee couldn’t be bothered to come into work on time because they were in the bedroom.

I glared at him, silently urging him to stop making things worse, but he just grinned and kissed me deeply, as if to prove his point. As soon as his lips touched mine, my heart started racing. His mouth was hot and electrifying, and I melted into his kiss, forgetting for a moment that we were in the middle of a doctor’s office…in front of one of my bosses. He licked into my mouth, and I tasted the sweet hint of maple syrup on his lips, from the pancakes he must have “sampled” while he was cooking. I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him closer…the heat between us intensified. The world around us disappeared, and I got lost in him.

Again.

A throat cleared, and I startled, wanting to melt into the floor when I realized what I’d just done.

Lincoln’s lips curled up at the corners, revealing a smug expression. His eyes danced with amusement as he stared down at me, and I could tell he was thoroughly enjoying himself…and very proud of the way he’d made me lose control. He brushed his lips once more against mine before winking at me and walking away without another word, whistling a tune under his breath.

Dr. Kevin’s expression darkened as Lincoln disappeared from sight, and he snapped at me to get to work. ‘You’re on thin ice,’ he warned before storming off.

A knot formed in my stomach as I headed to my desk. Dr. Kevin’s comment was a clear threat, and I knew I couldn’t afford to mess up again. I couldn’t lose this job.

But as I started to organize some paperwork…I also couldn’t help but think…

Last night had been worth it.

Lincoln

Her boss would be a problem. That needed to be dealt with soon. Adding it to the never ending list in my head of things that needed to be fixed, I texted my assistant, Pete, to make sure he sent lunch to Monroe. She’d refused to eat this morning in her rush to get to her job, and I wanted to make sure she got something to eat.

P: What should I order her?

I needed to make my assistant a list of all her favorite foods. Pronto.

Steak tacos…and queso. Lots of queso. And a Diet Dr. Pepper.

P: Got it. Two things of queso.

Make that three.

I started the car and drove away from her building. I guess I’d go to practice after all. With playoffs right around the corner, it probably wasn’t the best idea to be skipping practice, anyway. I would’ve done it, though, if Monroe had agreed to spend the day with me. I couldn’t help but want to spend every moment convincing her she was mine.

I pulled into the practice facility parking lot, and double checked my phone for the millionth time, making sure that Monroe was in fact still at the office. There was a text waiting for me.

Dream Girl: So I guess I confirmed last night, you indeed do not have wrinkly old man balls.

I snorted and shook my head, willing myself not to get hard thinking about what she was referring to since last night had, in fact, been the hottest night of my life.

I’m not sure. Should we double check again? Tonight?

The three dots by her name lasted at least a minute, and I could picture her sitting at the front desk, cheeks flushed, trying to decide what to say to that.

Dream Girl: Can’t wait.

I groaned and adjusted myself before hopping out of the car. Practice was officially going to be an uncomfortable one.