A few weeks Later – Jazlyn

“Isn’t it about time you get a real job?”

“Real job?” I gasp, my hand flying to my throat as I kick back and prop my feet up on Gordon’s desk. He sits across from me, surrounded by paperwork. His jacket has been discarded, his tie loose at his neck. And it’s only ten a.m. “I thought coming here and harassing you every day was a real job.”

Gordon pins me with a look, one that says he’s not pleased—but the twitch in the corner of his lips tells me otherwise. “I’m not sure you qualify for benefits.”

“I don’t think I need them. I’m pretty sure I can pay for my own health insurance from my share of Dad’s inheritance.”

“Very funny. I still want you to know I don’t like any of this.”

Gordon doesn’t like a lot of things these days. I can’t say I blame him. I did kind of leave him to run the entire Devils’ organization by himself. In my defense, I did it for love. I’m well aware of how cheesy that sounds, but it’s true. I know people expected things to go a little differently, and I surprised even myself when I stepped down. It was a tough decision, one I agonized over for days, but ultimately, I did what felt right.

And it’s not like I haven’t gotten other offers since leaving. The Olympics want me back, both the men’s and women’s teams have made offers, but that would mean spending a significant amount of time outside of Tennessee. There’s also an AHL team here in Nashville with an assistant coach position open. They’ve said the position is mine if I want it, but I’m still weighing my options.

I’m not sure I’m ready to give up my extracurriculars just yet. Spending the last few weeks cuddled up with Lincoln, really getting to know each other hasn’t been too bad, and I’m not quite ready to let it go. 

He’s another reason why my brother isn’t happy. He still isn’t a huge Lincoln fan, not since he did the slip and slide onto the rink and punched him in the face, nearly giving me a heart attack in the process. I think he’s coming around though. Slowly but surely. Well, maybe. Hopefully.  

“Trust me, I know. There are still days where I feel like I put feminism back twenty years, but then I remember it was my decision to leave the team. No one forced me to make that choice.”

“What if you didn’t have to make that decision?” 

“Have you hit your head this morning? Had too much Angel’s Envy Bourbon last night? I gave up the team weeks ago.” I narrow my eyes and study his face. The jerk is giving nothing away, although I was always shit at reading him. “Do you know something?”

Gordon fiddles with his tie, realizes it’s completely disheveled, and fixes it. “I might have heard a thing or two.”

“Go on.”

“What if I told you that I have several sponsors lined up, but they’ll only sign with us if you’re back as owner?”

“Would that put the Devils back where they were before?”

He steeples his hands in front of him and smiles, the first genuine one I’ve seen from him in days. “We’d actually be better off.”

“And Adam the dickbag?” The GM with an attitude problem that negatively correlates with the size of his dick. Or at least that’s my assumption because I will NEVER make eye contact with that thing. Never. I got too close to it once and almost lost my lunch.

Gordon chuckles. “You’ll be happy to know that your bestie will be graciously taking a leave of absence.”

“Wait… what?”

“Turns out he has a few HR complaints. You weren’t the only one sampling the employees.”

“Very cute, Benson. Very cute. My sampling is going to be your future brother-in-law.”

“I’m still crossing my fingers that you wake up and go find someone better. Someone who doesn’t play hockey. Maybe a nice banker or accountant,” Gordon says dryly and flashes me a quick smile.

“Sounds boring.” I give him a smirk of my own. “When are you going to go out on a date? You haven’t taken anyone out since I’ve been here.”

“We’re not talking about me.”

“Maybe we should.”

He points at me. “My love life, or lack thereof, is none of your concern.” He takes a deep breath and drops his hands to rest on his desk. “It’s time for you to come back. At least consider it for me. This legacy isn’t the same without you in it. We have the sponsors, and Adam will probably never be back except to clean out his desk.”

I sit back and blow out a deep breath. While I hadn’t accepted the offer from the AHL team, I was looking forward to getting more hands-on with the team. And let’s face it, I like bossing big hockey players around.

But he’s not wrong about sharing the legacy. This is what we were meant to do. And now that we have sponsor support, and that asshat Adam is likely to be gone for good, coming back might be epic. We just need to steer the team to the playoffs next year so that we get to keep the team and pray to the Hockey Gods that we can find a decent GM that wants to come to our team.

I cross my legs with a smirk. “Can I negotiate a raise?”

He leans forward and matches my smirk with one of his own. “I can try not to be as mean to your boyfriend.”

“And you buy me dinner?”

“I’ll buy you dinner. I’ll even let you pick.”

“And a movie?”

He sighs and furrows his brow, pretending to be annoyed. “Yes, you can make me watch the Harry Potter movies again.”

“Gordo, you have yourself a deal.”

“Call me Gordo again, and I take it all back.”

“Sorry, Gordo, we have a verbal deal. No backsies.” 

***

The Missing Linc: I ran into your brother today. He gave me a sparkly pink gift bag.

Jaz-ersize: Presents are nice.

The Missing Linc: It was filled with soaps for my delicate hands. Those were his exact words. DELICATE HANDS. FML

Jaz-ersize: <laughing with tears emoji><laughing with tears emoji>

The Missing Linc: That’s not the worst part. 

Jaz-ersize: Okay…

The Missing Linc: One of the soaps…

The Missing Linc: It was a penis

Jaz-ersize: <skull and crossbones emoji>

Jaz-ersize: <GIF of woman falling over>

Jaz-ersize: I am literally dying. 

The Missing Linc: I’m not amused. Your brother gave me a dick soap for my delicate hands. I’d rather let him punch me in the face again. At least then I’d still have my dignity. 

Jaz-ersize: Debatable. Don’t you need to have dignity in the first place to lose it? Asking for a friend. 

The Missing Linc: <Expressionless face emoji>

Jaz-ersize: I also saw my brother today, but he didn’t give me any penis soap. I don’t know if I should be jealous or relieved.  

The Missing Linc: The correct answer is relieved. 

The Missing Linc: What did he want?

Jaz-ersize: I’d rather tell you in person. Are you still here or did you head back home?

The Missing Linc: Foster, Ian, Owen and I are finishing up a workout. I’ll wait for you.

***

Lincoln

I pocket my phone and when I sit up from the weight bench notice all the guys have stopped working out and are staring at me. 

“Can I help you guys?”

“Nope.” Foster shakes his head. “We’re fine. Just wondering when you had your testicles removed and how bad it hurt.”

Owen crosses his arms and smiles at me. “Did you get to keep them or does Jazz have them?”

“I bet they’re on the nightstand next to her side of the bed?” Ian elbows him. “Or maybe Gordon took them and set them on fire.”

“I hate all of you,” I grumble, sliding off the weight bench and taking a generous swig from my water bottle. 

“Or maybe he’s upset that his other girlfriend isn’t here to join us.” 

“Where is Tag anyway?” Foster gets on the treadmill and speeds it up to a jog. 

“Don’t worry about it,” I say quickly, grabbing an extra towel and running it over my face. “I’m sure he’s entertained. Jazz is coming down, by the way. So, if you want to avoid more lovey dovey bullshit, I suggest you make yourself scarce.”

“Nope, we’re good.” Ian and Owen respond simultaneously and hop on the treadmills on either side of Foster. 

Foster meets my eyes and smiles. And I know whatever he’s about to say, I won’t be a fan of. He gets this little twinkle in his eye when he knows he’s going to say something controversial. “I want to see if she has a few friends she’ll set me up with. Doesn’t have to be at the same time, but that would be preferred.”

I toss my head back and groan. 

“I wouldn’t do that to any of my friends.” Jazz comes in and laughs. She’s got her hair up in one of those messy buns and is wearing jeans and a knitted red sweater. It’s not one of her tight little skirts, but seeing her—regardless of what she’s wearing—knocks me on my ass every single time. “I like them way too much to set anyone up with you. You can always try the auction method like Tag did. I hear he scored a date with Roderick, and he’s very excited. He told me his nickname is Hot Rod and that it has nothing to do with cars.”

“That might scare me more than the soap.” I greet her with a hug, pulling her against my chest despite my damp shirt.

She doesn’t hesitate to snuggle into me, snaking her arms around my waist and tilting her head up for a kiss. I lower my lips to hers and give her a chaste kiss. Not because that’s what I want, but because we have an audience. If I had my way, I’d walk her over to the wall of mirrors, and turn her around so she can watch herself as I drop to my knees and worship her pussy. 

It’s the least I can do since, you know, she gave up a whole hockey team for me. 

Being in the arena doesn’t give us much privacy, but it is probably better than being back at her house.  It’s nearly impossible to have sex wherever and whenever I want without the possibility of Gordon walking in and interrupting us. 

Which he had on a few occasions. 

Once when I was eating dessert—and I mean Jazz—on the kitchen island. Another time when she was in my lap, riding my cock like a professional cowgirl, while we were in the hot tub. And a third time when we were in her bed after a home game, and I was burning off some extra energy. Forgot to lock the door. 

That one was my bad.  

“He has that look again.” Foster interrupts my thoughts and tosses a towel my way. I don’t see it soon enough, and it hits my face. 

Jazz takes a step back and glances at the guys, then back at me. “So, I have some really good news, but no one can say anything.” She looks back at the guys, her gaze vollying between Ian and Owen. “No one.”

“Don’t look at us.” Owen points to the three of them. “None of us said anything about your secret relationship.” 

“That’s fair.” Jazz turns back to me and smirks, clasping her hands in front of her and rocking back on her feet. “There are a handful of sponsors who want to work with the team, but only if I’m reinstated as owner.”

“That’s fantastic.” I pick her up, and this time, the kiss I give her isn’t as chaste. She opens beneath me, and I sweep my tongue in her mouth, dancing it alongside hers. Jazz melts into me, and I slide a hand from her waist to grab her ass. 

“Get a damn room.” Foster tosses another towel at us, and I give him the finger as I set her back down on the ground. 

“That’s good, right?” I hedge, running a hand through my hair. It sounds good, but I don’t want to make any assumptions. Especially about her career and future. She’s gotten a few offers, even a coaching job with the farm team, that she’s been debating. 

She makes a humming sound and bumps my hip with hers. “Well, it will put the Devils in a really good position. And while I was ready to move on and get a job with another team, there’s more good I can do here.”

“If that’s code for Lincoln, that’s gross.” Ian takes a drink from his water bottle before continuing, “If you mean like actual things for the team, then that’s awesome.”

Foster nods. “I know I like to give everyone a hard time, but this is great news. I can’t wait to go back to my apartment and tell no one.” 

Ignoring him, I run the tips of my fingers along the side of Jazz’s face and force her to tilt her head back. Leaning down, I trail my lips along the column of her neck, placing light kisses as I go. I breathe in her coconut scented hair and kiss that spot behind her ear that makes her melt. 

She groans, her throat rumbling beneath my lips. “You don’t play fair, Dallas.”

“Does this mean you’re going to go back to wearing your Benson jersey during games?”

“No. I rather like my Dallas one. I don’t think Gordon will mind so long as he doesn’t catch us having our alone time at the house.” She sighs and tilts her head a little more to give me better access. 

I smile, gripping her hips and grinding slightly against her. Enough that she can feel my growing erection but not enough that it would be considered indecent. “We should celebrate.”

“I’d ask what you have in mind.” Her voice is light and she chuckles. “But I think I already know.”

“I can also make you dinner.” I pull away and toss the towels back to Foster. One hits Ian and I shrug. That was my bad. “I might have steak and lobster picked out for tonight.”

Her smile is wide. Her eyes are bright. She looks so fucking magnificent. I still can’t believe she’s mine, but I’m going to enjoy every single minute of it. 

“We have all afternoon. I figure you’ll be pretty worn out by then.”

“As worn out as she can be in five minutes,” Foster calls out and laughs along with Ian and Owen. 

“Y’all can fuck off,” I pull Jazz back to my side and wink. “It’ll be the best five minutes of your life.” I laugh and press a kiss to her forehead. “I love you so much. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m glad I did it.”

“Me too.” Jazz turns to me, running her hands up my chest and gripping my shoulders. “I love you too.” 

I frame her face with my hands and graze her bottom lip with my thumb before lowering my mouth to hers. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. The light in my darkness. The silver lining to every cloud in the sky. 

She’s my fucking everything.