Puck Pact: A Marriage of Convenience Hockey Romance (East Coast Series)
Puck Pact: Chapter 30

After three rounds of mind-blowing sex, Alexander is passed out in bed.

I’m too wired to sleep, so I’m pouring my creativity into a painting. My mind races as I brush the paint across the canvas in light strokes, and I smile as the vibrant hues I mixed closely match the color of the sea in the photograph I’m referring to.

It feels good to paint after so many years of stifling that creativity. Now that I’m no longer working at Carter’s gallery, I feel a sense of freedom. No more excuses as to why I can’t open my own gallery. No more putting off my dream. It’s time to pursue the things that make me happy.

My eyes flick to the giant, shirtless man leaning against the doorway.

He makes me happy.

My heart rate kicks up at the sight of him. This feeling is so foreign, so new, so unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. Life with Alexander is a life I never dreamed of because I didn’t think I could have it. But he’s here and he’s mine, and I don’t want to give any of this up.

“How long have you been standing there?” I ask, setting down my brush.

“Not nearly long enough to get my fill.” He shrugs. “Though I’m not sure I ever will.”

I let out a contented sigh. “I love it in here.”

“I love seeing you in here.” He pushes off the frame and steps into the room, making sure to stop before getting too close to the painting I told him I won’t let him look at until it’s finished. “The way your eyebrows push together while you work; the way you bite your bottom lip while you’re mixing the colors. You’re so focused, yet so at peace. I can’t wait to see what you’ll look like when you’re standing in your own gallery one day.”

I stand and pull the apron over my head, laying it down on the wooden work desk beside me. “I think I’m ready to go look at some spaces.”

His eyebrows jump. “Yeah?”

“I’ve been looking up vacant spaces in the area.” I walk over to him and slip my arms around his waist, resting my chin on his chest as I look up at him. “Will you come with me?”

An expression of what can only be described as joy takes over his face as he smiles. “Of course.”

I might not need someone to do things for me, but I sure as shit wouldn’t mind this man holding my hand while I do it.

“Bye, Aarya!”

I spin Giuliana around before setting her back on the porch. “Bye, kid. Have fun at your sleepover tonight.” I lower my voice and add, “And don’t break your other arm, or else your father will blow a gasket.”

She giggles as she glances over my shoulder at her father waiting for me in the driveway. “Blow a gasket.”

Annie ushers her inside and wishes me good luck before locking the door behind them.

I turn to the man dressed in all black waiting for me on his black and yellow motorcycle—a BMW s1000rr, according to the Big Man, as if I have the slightest clue what that means.

He flips up the visor on his helmet and his coal eyes meet mine. I can’t help the tingles that spread throughout my body at the sight of him straddling the seat.

Forget the knight in shining armor all women dream of. I want the dark knight on a bike.

I walk over to him and twist my hair into a low bun before pulling my helmet over my head.

His deep voice comes through the speakers. “Stop eye-fucking me, or we won’t be going anywhere tonight.”

“Being out on your bike didn’t stop you last time.”

The memory of being spread out on Alexander’s bike with his tongue between my legs flashes through my mind, and my thighs clench to suppress the ache.

“You’re walking a little funny,” he says in an amused tone. “Everything okay?”

I hop on the back of the bike and wince. “Let me see you get fucked by your anaconda dick and try walking without a limp the next day.”

He chuckles, totally pleased with himself.

I slide my hands around his waist, giving him a squeeze to let him know I’m ready.

We’re visiting three vacant spaces in Brooklyn today, and I’m equal parts nervous as I am excited. One of these could be my future gallery.

The first place we visit is small and simple. White walls in a long, rectangular room. It would be a great place for someone just starting out like me. The second space is a little larger, with a wall separating two different rooms. That could work for separating different artistic mediums.

But nothing excites me.

We pull up to the curb and I tear off my helmet, glancing up at the last space of the day. Tall windows line the front of the building separated by three columns of bricks.

“Last stop,” Alexander says, clipping his helmet to the strap on the seat.

Maybe the third time will be a charm.

Alexander swings open the front door, and all of the breath whooshes out of my lungs when I step inside.

My eyes travel from the maple wood floors, up along the industrial steel columns, to an upper-level mezzanine area. The high open-beam ceiling has three large skylights giving a natural light to the huge space. It looks nothing like the first two, modern mixed with vintage, and my heart thrums with excitement.

“Wow,” I say on an exhale.

A tall, slender man with blond hair walks over to us and smiles. “It’s beautiful in here, isn’t it?”

“It’s so open.”

His hand shoots out between us. “I’m Mark. You must be Mr. and Mrs. Krum.”

I shake his hand before Alexander. “Thanks so much for meeting with us today.”

“Of course. You mentioned about turning this place into an art gallery over the phone. Did you know it was once a gallery a little over a decade ago?”

“No, but I can see it.” I imagine paintings hanging from the brick walls, and sculptures on tables upstairs. “How many people does this place hold?”

“A little over 350. The neighborhood is great, as are the business owners on either side of you. This place gets a lot of traffic.” Mark slips his hands into his pockets. “Why don’t you take a look around and check out the view from upstairs. Then you can let me know if you have any other questions.”

“Thank you.”

I tug on Alexander’s hand, and we spend the next ten minutes wandering around the vast space. I point out random things, talking out loud as I envision where I’d hang certain types of pieces. All the while, Alexander remains quiet, allowing me to take it all in without giving me his opinion.

To get upstairs, there’s a floating staircase on one side, and a lift at the back of the room giving it a fun, studio vibe.

I lean over the black railing overlooking the entire space, and take it all in. “It’s awesome up here.”

Alexander’s hands slip around my waist as he stands behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Kind of reminds me of the American Wing at the MET.”

I smile. “It does.”

This place is so much nicer than the first two we visited. But it’s also a bigger undertaking. Nerves buzz around my stomach like bees, filling me with doubt.

“What are you thinking?” Alexander asks.

“The first two had better price points. But this one…” I chew my bottom lip as my voice trails off, trying to find the words. “I don’t know. I feel something special here.”

He spins me around to face him. “Don’t think about the money. That’s not what’s driving your decision. Go with your gut.”

I hook my hands around the back of his neck. “My gut says this the one.”

“Then it’s yours,” he says, as if it’s just that simple.

“But what if it fails? What if I can’t find artists to work with, or what if I spend all this time and money to open it, but nobody comes here? What if⁠—”

“What if it works out exactly the way you want it to?” He leans down and presses his lips to my forehead. “Living with anxiety, I’ve learned that the things we worry about are just that—worries. They’re not real. They’re not factual. So, let’s stay in the present and look at what’s in front of us right now. There’s a beautiful space for a gallery available. If you want it, it’s yours. You’ll handle everything else that comes along with it, one step at a time.” He laces his fingers with mine. “And I’ll be right here with you.”

I let out a long breath and nod. “That helps. Thank you.”

“Want to go tell Mark?”

A slow smile spreads across my face. “Are you sure? It’s your money we’re spending.”

He pulls back as he gazes down at me. “This money is yours to do what you want with it. We made this deal when we agreed to get married, and that hasn’t changed, even though our feelings did.”

I’m so gone for this man.

His honesty, the way he communicates, how he puts me at ease. He makes me feel secure, and that’s something I haven’t felt since…ever.

I slept with pepper spray under my pillow when I was growing up, for Christ’s sake.

I head back downstairs to let Mark know that I’m interested in renting this space. After we finish up and exchange information, Alexander holds my hand as we walk outside to his bike.

I’m bursting with so much energy and excitement, I can hardly contain myself.

This is it. The moment my dream turns into reality.

Once we have our helmets on, Alexander tugs me close by the back of my neck. “I’m proud of you, spitfire.”

“Thank you for making this possible for me.” Then I flip his visor down like a brat. “Now take me home so I can properly thank you.”

“I thought you were sore from last night?”

“Not too sore to do it all over again.” I grin. “It’s like dessert. There’s always room for more.”

We have about a thirty-minute ride, all of which I tease him relentlessly.

When we stop at a red light, I slip off my gloves and stuff them into my coat pockets. Once we start moving again, I let my hands roam, massaging his thighs, squeezing his muscular quads and trailing my hands up along his groin.

A deep rumble comes in through the speaker. “What are you doing?”

“Enjoying myself.”

I unzip his jacket so I can slip my hands under his shirt, letting my fingers slide over the smooth, hard ridges of his muscles. I swirl over his nipple piercing that I love so much, and feel his stomach contract under my touch. He leans back, taking one hand off the handle bar and wrapping it around my leg, granting me better access.

Then I travel south, my fingers dancing back and forth along the waistband of his pants.

He lets out another low groan while he cruises, and I slip inside his pants and wrap around his cock, giving him a few short pumps in the tight space.

I know it’s killing him to not be able to touch me, to keep his eyes on the road and control the bike to keep us safe—which makes it all the more fun for me.

As soon as Alexander pulls into the garage and the door closes us in, he kills the engine and tears off his helmet. I barely get mine off before his mouth crushes mine. His kiss is hot and needy, his tongue sweeping into my mouth and forcing my jaw open as he steals my air.

Then without warning, he spins me around and bends me over at the waist. “Hands on the seat.”

He yanks down my pants, leaving them pooled at my ankles, trapped by my shoes, and his tongue blazes a trail along my inner thigh. He tears at the strings on my thong, ripping it in half and tossing it onto the floor before rubbing his tongue all over my pussy.

I arch my back and moan, sticking out my ass further as he spreads me apart. My legs tremble at the feel of his warm, wet tongue lapping me up hungrily as he devours me.

“So sweet,” he murmurs. “You taste like mine.”

He plunges a finger inside me while his tongue continues circling my clit, that thick finger curling and stroking me at a languid pace. I glance behind me to see him on his knees, loving the way he worships my body and knows exactly how to please me.

“Alex, yes,” I say breathlessly. “That’s so good.”

He moans against me, enjoying my praise. “Come for me, Aarya. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”

Knowing we have the house to ourselves, I don’t hold back. I cry out his name as my orgasm slams into me. My thighs shake and I grip onto the seat to hold myself up as the euphoric feeling takes over.

Alexander toys with me while I ride it out, sliding his tongue lightly over me, sending tingles throughout my entire body.

Then his tongue disappears and he pushes to his feet.

His breath is hot at my ear. “I’m going to fuck you just like this, spitfire, so you better hold on.”

“God, yes. Please,” I beg, gripping onto the seat of the bike.

He fishes a condom out of his wallet and rolls it over his length, wasting no time before slamming inside of me. He’s so big, I’m completely filled, full of him. His fingers dig into my hips as he pulls back out and does it again, and again. He fucks me hard over the side of the bike, owning my body, slapping my ass and pulling my hair. I love how he takes control, dominating me in the way I crave. Like I’m at his mercy, and all I can do is submit to him because I know he’ll give me everything I need.

He always knows what I need.

His words become more possessive with each passing second. “This pussy is mine. You are mine. I’m going to fuck you like this every day. I want you so sore that every time you move, you’ll remember it was my cock who did that to you.”

I get off on how unhinged he is, loving the way he unravels for me. He makes my body come alive, with every touch, every kiss, every word uttered.

“Give me another one.” He leans forward and his fingers slide around to my clit as he whispers in my ear. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”

With one hand on the bike, I lift the other to grip onto the back of his neck, arching my back and meeting each of his wild thrusts with my own. “Harder, Alex. Fucking wreck me.”

He buries himself inside me, giving it all to me. With his fingers between my thighs, I detonate like a bomb, another orgasm exploding throughout my body.

I’m barely able to catch my breath before Alexander’s release rips through him, and he lets out a thundering groan that I feel deep in my bones. He shudders against me, his pace slowing as he rocks in and out of me. And then he leans down and presses his forehead between my shoulder blades, fighting to catch his breath.

My legs are barely able to hold myself up after that earth-shattering orgasm.

Without warning, he pulls out of me and sweeps me into his arms, my pants still hanging around my ankles. “Giuliana won’t be home until tomorrow morning, which means we only have tonight.”

“For what?”

“For me to fuck you on every surface of this house.”

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