Match Penalty: Coach’s Daughter Hockey Romance (The Rookie Hawkeyes Series Book 1)

I wake to the pattering of raindrops against the window and the darkness of the room. An alarm clock nearby reads that it’s just before three in the morning. I stir against the pillow, trying to burrow deeper into the mattress, but it’s no use—this isn’t my bed.

The sheets are too smooth, the pillow too firm, and the room smells distinctly of JP. The smell of his cologne, the faint musk of sweat from long practices, and something I can only describe as… him.

This isn’t my room and I’m not in my apartment.

Flashes of last night flood back in, resolving my disorientation. I didn’t get drunk last night, but I still remember the feeling of my stomach beginning to turn on me only half way into our girls’ night.

The club, the overly sweet cocktails that have my stomach churning just thinking about them, the overzealous DJ and his relentless bass amplifying it all. And then I remember JP steadying me, stepping in to help me at the bar, becoming a human shield to protect me, buying our drinks. Then I remember feeling sick, his arms anchoring me to him as he guided me through the chaos to take me home. His soft reassurances as he insisted on getting me there safely. Except… we didn’t go to my place.

The memory of leaving my purse at Brynn’s comes back to me.

I sit up carefully, my head feeling a little woozy with sleep and a slight headache, but so much better than when I left the club. There’s a mug of chamomile tea gone cold, a plate of crackers I didn’t touch, and water with a lemon slice sitting on the nightstand with two Tylenol. My phone’s plugged into a charger I didn’t bring, but clearly, JP thought of everything.

The blanket slides off my shoulders as I swing my legs over the edge of his bed. The plush carpeted bedroom floor touches my feet, as I look around. JP’s packed Hawkeyes duffel bag with Dumont stitched on the side. The team leaves later this morning for their first out of town game.

Something else catches my eye—a figure stretched out on the floor beside the bed.

JP.

One arm is flung over his face, the other resting on his chest—he’s asleep on the hard floor. It’s not lost on me that he didn’t try to sleep next to me on his memory foam mattress. A far better option for a professional athlete who’s expected to play his first away game later tonight.

He could’ve taken the couch. It would have been far more comfortable.

Something warm stirs in my chest—he stayed. And also gave me space, not trying to use this moment as a time to get closer when I was too weak to care.

The dim glow creeping through the curtains from the city lights softens the sharp lines of his jaw and the strong column of his neck. I’ve never seen JP in an unflattering light—in fact, I don’t think there is such a thing, but this right here—him asleep after taking care of me. This might be my favorite of all.

Without thinking, I crouch beside him, my hand lifting slightly before hovering over his cheek. I don’t touch him, but the thought lingers.

“JP,” I whisper, my voice uncertain and quiet.

Should I be waking him up? Maybe it’s better to let him sleep before he leaves town.

He stirs, his brow furrowing before his arm drops away. Slowly, his eyes flutter open, blinking a few times and then quickly sharpening with concern as they find mine.

“Cammy?” His voice is thick with sleep, but his worry slices through it. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

I swallow against the lump in my throat. “Yeah. I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, not exactly,” he says.

“Couldn’t sleep either?”

He chuckles softly. “It’s hard to sleep when I know you’re in my shirt, sleeping in my bed.”

Heat climbs up my neck at his admission.

“I didn’t mean to take your room. I didn’t even realize—”

“It’s okay,” he cuts in, his tone gentle. “You didn’t feel well, and I wanted you to be comfortable. Do you feel better?”

“Yeah… I do, thank you. But you’re sleeping on the floor.” My vision glides over him, stretched out in a blanket that barely covers his feet.

“I wanted to be close in case you needed me. I was worried about you,” he says, his voice soft. “I thought about lying next to you but you’d been drinking, and with our history…” His words trail off, but I know where they’re headed.

“And you didn’t want me to think that you were taking advantage,” I finish for him.

He just stares back, no point in confirming it—we both know.

“Your voice sounds better.” The corners of his mouth lift slightly into a grin.

“After a long, hot shower, I’ll be good as new,” I admit, my voice quieter now. “Thank you for taking care of me last night. I feel bad that you had to leave your friends to take me home.”

The corner of his mouth curves up. “Say that last part again,” he interrupts, his tone teasing.

“What part? Take me home?”

I catch the glint of his smile in the low light. “Yeah.” He lets out a gravely sigh. “I like the sound of that.”

I bite my lip and glance down at my toes digging into the carpet, fighting back the smile threatening to take over. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I didn’t mind leaving my friends or that club. Without you in it, it would have lost its appeal anyway,” he says, his voice dipping low. “And I like taking care of you. I think that’s becoming obvious.”

His words hang between us, the weight of them sinking into my skin.

“Is that why you’ve been tossing pucks at me for years?” I ask, deflecting with humor to steady myself. “Or is that something you do for all the puck bunnies?”

JP’s laugh is quiet but warm. “You think I toss pucks at everyone?”

I raise a brow, crossing my arms. “Don’t you?”

He leans forward slightly, his eyes locking on mine. “Besides the kids in the stands who ask for them, I only toss pucks at one person.”

The space between us shrinks, the air thickening as his words settle over me. “Why just me?”

He sits up, his movements slow, deliberate, until he’s closer—so much taller than me even though I’m kneeling before him. His hand shifts, brushing against my knee in a touch so fleeting it could almost be accidental. But it’s not.

The contact is electric, sparking something inside me that I know I should extinguish for the sake of my own heart. He hasn’t told me the truth about that night, the one that left me doubting everything. But here, in the quiet darkness of this room, it’s easier to push those fears aside. At least for just this moment.

“Because you’re the only one I have a message for.”

“And what’s that?”

JP leans closer, his voice a rough whisper. “That I want a shot with you.”

The world tilts. My throat tightens as I try to process his words, but there’s no sarcasm to shield myself with, no witty comeback to deflect the truth I see in his eyes.

Before I can overthink it, I push up on my knees, my hand finding the back of his neck, pulling him toward me. My lips crash against his, desperate and searching. His arm wraps around my waist, and suddenly I’m in his lap, straddling him. His mouth claims mine, his hands skim up my sides. The heat of his touch sears through the thin fabric of his shirt I’m wearing, and his thumbs brush just beneath my breasts, sending a jolt of heat pooling low in my belly. I arch into him instinctively, a breathy moan escaping past my mouth as he deepens the kiss.

He groans against my lips at the friction. “You have no idea what you do to me, or what I would give to be close to you. Every time I see you, it’s all I can do to not pull you into the nearest corner just to feel you close—just to steal a minute with you. Just to get your beautiful hazel eyes on me for just a second. My world calms when you’re near.”

His words hit me like a truth I’ve always known. He’s always sought me out, always found a way to get time with me, no matter how crowded the room or how impossible the timing. Whether it was at games, charity events, or chance encounters, JP Dumont has been relentless in making me feel like I was worth the effort. The girl from his rival team.

I tilt my head back as his lips trail down my neck, grazing the sensitive curve where my pulse races. My fingers tangle into his hair, pulling him closer, needing more of him the way he needs me. The tension between us builds with every kiss, every touch.

“JP,” I breathe, grinding down against him. The hard length of him pressing against my panties sends another jolt of heat spiraling through my core, dampening the thin fabric. His groan vibrates against my skin, low and guttural.

I feel so small in his arms—as if he could take me any second that he wants—but he doesn’t. He’s watching, waiting, letting me take control of where this leads.

“Say my name again. The way you know I like it,” he demands, his voice rough.

I whisper it again, my voice trembling with the weight of how he’s breaking down my walls I’ve built to keep him out.

“What do you need, Cammy? Whatever it is, it’s yours. Just please… let it be me.”

I pull him tighter and his lips trail further down, pushing the collar of the shirt I’m wearing to lay his lips against my chest. His hands shift to grip my ass cheeks with both hands, guiding me to grind on him even harder. If he keeps this up, I’ll come just like this in his lap.

‘I want to forget about San Diego, about you leaving. Just one night where none of that exists. No lies. No truth. Just us,’ I say, pulling his jaw up to kiss me.

‘I want to tell you what happened. And I will someday,’ he says.

Someday. The word tastes like a promise I can’t afford to believe in. I can’t wait for someday. I’m barely holding on to today.

‘And if someday never comes… then at least we’ll have this.’

His grip tightens like he feels the weight of my words. Then, suddenly, he shifts, rising to his feet with me in his arms, his voice rough and sure.

‘Then I guess this is my last chance to make sure you never want to leave.’

“Give it your best shot,” I challenge.

JP lays me down on the bed and then pulls back slightly, his dark eyes locking with mine as if searching for any hesitation. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

My voice shakes as I cup his jaw, guiding him back to me. “Don’t stop.”

His groan rumbles through me, and in one swift motion, he pulls his shirt over his head, exposing the hard planes of his torso. My breath catches at the sight of him, but before I can say anything, his lips are on mine again, hungry and insistent.

His hands push up the hem of the shirt I borrowed, exposing my bare skin to the cool air. He follows the path of his hands with his lips, leaving a trail of heat as he goes. When he reaches my breast, his tongue swirls around the peak, drawing out a whimper from my lips. His hand mirrors the attention on the other side, kneading and teasing until I’m a trembling mess beneath him.

“JP,” I beg, my voice breaking. “Please.”

He lifts his head, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re giving me one last time. You can’t blame me for wanting to take my time, making sure that it’s so good for you that you never forget me.”

His hands slide down my sides, hooking into the waistband of my panties. Slowly, he peels them away, his lips following the movement until I’m bare beneath him. His vision glides over me, taking in every inch, as if this is the first time he’s ever seen me naked.

“You’re the vision of my fantasies. I’ll never forget how perfect you look tonight,” he murmurs, his voice deep yet gentle.

His knees hit the floor, his lips trailing heat down my stomach. His tongue swirls around my belly button and then kisses it gently before descending further. And then he’s there, lifting my legs over his shoulders, lowering his body until his head slides between my thighs. His tongue is hot and wet at my center, spreading me open with one long lick, pulling another whimper past my lips. Each graze of his teeth and flick of his tongue drawing me closer to the edge. My fingers thread through his hair, anchoring him to me, begging him to show me that he’ll take care of me—that he won’t let me fall again, like I did that night.

The physical act of the words I can’t say out loud.

When his head dips even lower, abandoning my clit, his tongue presses into my center. A wave of pleasure shoots through me as I moan out a garbled version of “Oh God.” His thumb presses gently against my other entrance but doesn’t penetrate. My breath catches, reminding me that he’s the one in control. Every flick, every stroke of his fingers and tongue pushes me closer to the cliff, the tension building hotter and tighter until it’s unbearable. His tongue traces a path that leaves me gasping, his name falling from my lips.

He tests me slowly, but then all at once, two soaked fingers slide gently but fully into me until I cry out his name as I come—my world shattering around me. My body trembles while wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me, as he licks every drop of my arousal that he inspired. My hands fall away from his hair, my legs like JELL-O still wrapped around his shoulders.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing you scream my name when you come,” he says with a satisfied smirk.

‘Then what are you waiting for?’ I ask, challenging him to do it again.

He grins and then gently lets my legs down, wrapping them around his waist. He pulls my arms around his neck, lifting me up with him higher on the bed, laying my head on the pillow.

His lips find mine in a kiss that’s equal parts passion and tenderness, and I lose myself in the sensation of his hands, his mouth, his body against mine. His hard cock, hot and heavy, cradles against my stomach, building heat low in my belly again for him—the promise that this moment between us isn’t over.

He reaches for a condom in the top drawer of his nightstand, then rips the foil and slides it on.

He stares down at me, and I nod, letting him know that this is what I want, too.

He presses into me slowly, the stretch and fullness stealing my breath and leaving me gasping for air. We both groan in unison, as my fingers grip his shoulders, holding onto him as he fills me inch by inch. His every movement is deliberate and careful, like he’s savoring this moment as much as I am.

A low groan rumbles from his chest when he finally seats himself fully, our bodies perfectly aligned. The sound vibrates through me, making every nerve in my body come alive. My head falls back against the pillow as I try to catch my breath, my heart pounding in my ears.

JP stills, his forehead pressing gently against mine. I can feel the slight tremble in his arms as he holds himself up, his jaw tight like he’s fighting for control. His warm breath fans over my lips, mingling with mine in the shared space between us.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs, his voice thick and quiet, like he’s afraid to break the fragile moment.

“Better than okay,” I whisper, my arms wrapping around his neck as I pull him closer. My legs tighten around his waist, urging him on. “Move, JP. Please.”

He does, but slowly, his hips rolling in deliberate, unhurried strokes that send waves of pleasure rippling through me. His gaze locks on mine, intense and unyielding, and I feel completely exposed under the weight of it. I dig my nails into his back, dragging them lightly down his skin, and his response is instant—a guttural growl that has my name tangled in it.

“You feel incredible,” he rasps, his voice rough with raw emotion. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me. What it feels like to be inside you. Jesus Christ, Cammy, I never want to pull out.”

I know how he feels. I don’t want him to ever leave either, but my heart is built for another fall from him. My heart and my pride can’t take it again. Tonight has to be the last time.

I tilt my hips, seeking more, desperate for the slow burn to ignite into something I can’t control. “Don’t stop,” I beg, my voice barely above a whisper. “Please, don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he promises, his lips brushing against the corner of my mouth before capturing mine in a kiss. “I’ve got you. And you’ll always have me.”

The rhythm shifts as he picks up the pace, his thrusts deeper, stronger, dragging me closer to the edge. His body feels like it was made for mine, the way every movement fits together perfectly. The tension coils tighter and tighter, a live wire sparking through me with every stroke.

His thick cock brushes against that devastatingly sensitive spot inside me, the one he’s already worked into a needy bundle of nerves. Over and over, he finds it, relentless, precise. He knows exactly where to push, exactly how to drive me wild, and he’s doing it on purpose.

I can feel my earlier release amplifying everything—every touch, every brush of his skin against mine. My body trembles beneath him, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all.

I whimper his name, my nails digging into his back as my body tingling with pleasure.

JP groans, his voice dark with satisfaction. “That’s it, mon ange… I can feel how close you are.” His grip tightens on my thigh, lifting it higher, spreading me wider, and the change in angle makes me cry out. He drives in deep, his thick length stretching me so perfectly it borders on too much, but I don’t want him to stop. I need more.noveldrama

“Oh God,” I gasp, my breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts.

His lips find my jaw, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along my skin, his breath warm and frayed with restraint. “I know, baby,” he murmurs, his voice rough with need. “Just let go. Let that sweet pink pussy grip me when you come all over my cock, pulsating around me. Soak me, Cammy.”

His filthy words unravel something inside me, his lips wrapping around my hard nipple into his mouth and sucks down, a strangled moan slips from my lips as the pleasure crests, sharp and all-consuming. My body locks around him, spasming in tight, rhythmic pulses as the orgasm slams into me. I cry out, and he swallows it with a kiss, as a tidal wave of pleasure drags me underwater, leaving me gasping, shaking, and clinging to him.

JP groans, a raw, needy sound that vibrates against my skin. He thrusts deeper, chasing his own release, my walls clenching around him, milking him as he follows me over the edge. He buries himself to the hilt, his grip bruising on my hips as his cock pulses inside me, his rhythm faltering as he follows me over the edge giving into his own release, his cock twitching deep inside of me as his cum fills the condom. He groans out my name into the crook of my neck as the aftershocks ripple through his body.

We collapse together, tangled in each other, our breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath. JP presses soft kisses to my temple, my cheek, my lips, murmuring words of praise and affection in French. Words he refuses to translate because he claims that the English translation won’t do them justice.

For a fleeting moment, I let myself believe this could be more than a night. That maybe, somehow, I can forget San Diego and forget that he’s keeping a secret from me with a woman who is still in his life.

But the thought doesn’t last, because I’ve been there. My mother lied to me for fourteen years of my life. My entire family kept the truth from me for their own selfish reasons.

My mother kept the secret to keep Eli.

Eli kept the secret to keep me from Seven.

My grandmother kept the secret so my mother wouldn’t withhold me from her.

What I can’t help but wonder is what JP’s motives are for keeping what happened that night a secret.

After JP pulls out carefully, and we each take a moment to clean up in the bathroom, we end up back in bed together.

His hand lazily makes swirls around my back—over my shoulder and around my hip bone, as I lay my head against his chest.

“I know you said one last time, but I need to know something,” he starts.

I pier up at him from my spot, tucked carefully against his side and under his arm. “What do you want to know?”

He stares up at the ceiling, gathering his thoughts.

“Hypothetically speaking, let’s say I find a way to earn back your trust, to convince you to give me a second chance, to show you that you’re all I’ve ever wanted and still are… Your father will never approve of me,” he says, his eyes glancing back down at me. “Could you choose to be with me, even against his wishes?”

Surprise settles over me. This isn’t what I thought he was going to ask, and the question lingers over us like a heavy cloud.

“How do you know that he doesn’t approve of you?” It’s a silly question—one that we both know the answer to. My dad has made it clear that he doesn’t trust JP.

“He’s told me—multiple times. And the glare he gives me when I’m anywhere near you reinforces it.”

“Well, I don’t know. That’s a lot of hypotheticals,” I say. “You want me to tell you if I can go against the one person who I trust most in the world, when you can’t even be honest with me about what happened in San Diego? Do you see how that makes it difficult for me to give you an answer?”

He nods, “I’m sorry. I don’t want to put you at odds with Seven, and I don’t want to keep this secret from you, though I know that’s hard to believe,” he says, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me tight. “Will you stay until morning?”

“It is morning,” I joke.

It’s still dark out as his eyes glance over at the window.

“Just a few more hours then. I have to get on the bus in the morning to head for the jet, but I just want to lay here with you as long as possible.”

“Yeah.” I say. “I’ll stay. Besides, I don’t have my key.”

“Just my luck,” he says and then kisses the top of my forehead.

I pull the hair tie out of my hair and slip it back over his wrist.

“I think it’s fully charged now and ready for your away game tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” he says.

We fall asleep, just like that—him holding onto me like I’m his lifeline. It feels good to be back in his arms, as much as I know I should fight it.

A few hours later, the muffled sound of Seattle’s early morning traffic filters through the window, but it feels distant, like the world outside doesn’t exist.

JP’s arm is draped across my waist, his hand splayed warm and solid against my stomach.

I lie still, staring at the faint patterns of light on the ceiling. My mind spins with memories of last night and this morning. A lot has happened, and I’m even less sure of what to do as my feelings for him continue to grow and he shows me the person I thought I saw in him over the years, before his accident.

And yet, the reality is still the same. He’s keeping something from me. I’ve lived a life like that before—I don’t want to go back.

Carefully, I shift out from under his arm, biting my lip to keep from making a sound. JP stirs but doesn’t wake, his face relaxed in sleep. He seems so different like this—vulnerable, almost boyish. Gone are the sharp edges of the goalie I see on the ice, replaced by the man I’ve been trying so hard not to want.

I grab my phone from the charger on the nightstand and tiptoe toward his closet. His smallest pair of sweats sits folded neatly on a shelf, and I roll the waistband as many times as it takes to get them to stay up. I pull on one of his shirts, its hem brushing my thighs, and take a deep breath.

This isn’t San Diego. And yet, it feels so similar.

I grab the dress I wore at the club and my heels and head for his front door. My feet carry me to the door before I can change my mind, but a soft knock halts me mid-step.

I freeze, my hand hovering over the doorknob. Through the peephole, I see Brynn standing on the other side, her head tilted and something in her hands.

“Thank God,” I mutter under my breath, twisting the knob.

“Cammy?” Brynn’s voice is muffled through the wood, but she must have heard me.

I crack the door open just enough to meet her smirking gaze. I put a finger to my lips to mimic shushing her. “He’s asleep,” I say.

Her eyes immediately drop to the oversized shirt I’m wearing.

“Well, this is familiar,” she says, holding out my purse. “Figured you might need this to get back into your place.”

I scowl, stepping out of JP’s apartment with my club dress draped over my arm and my heels in my hand. “Not a word.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replies, though her expression tells me otherwise. “You okay?”

I glance back at the closed door behind me as we start walking toward the elevator. “I don’t know.”

Brynn presses the button for the elevator, her smirk softening into something more genuine. “Fair enough. Just so you know, your dad asked a million questions last night when I showed up without you.”

My stomach drops. “Oh no… I didn’t even think about how he’d see that I wasn’t with you.”

Brynn nods. “I told him as little as possible, but you know how he is. He was like a dog with a bone.”

“What did you say?”

“I just told him you mixed your drinks and went home early,” she says casually.

“Okay, that’s not bad,” I say, relief flooding through me.

“But then…” Brynn grimaces. “He started asking more questions. Like if I let you walk home alone or something.”

“Brynn.”

“I couldn’t lie, Cammy. I told him a team member escorted you back to The Commons. When he figured out it was JP, he just about drove down here in the middle of the night to bring your purse and haul you out of there.”

I groan, letting my head fall back as my eyes flutter closed. “He’s going to kill me. Or JP. Or both of us.”

She grins, unbothered. “Worried about JP? Sounds like someone still cares.”

“I have no idea what I’m feeling right now,” I admit, my voice quieter. “I need coffee, a shower, and about twelve hours of sleep. But it’s Friday, and I have to go to work.”

Brynn nods, her teasing softened by understanding. “Call me later?”

“Yeah.”

I take an elevator up one level to my apartment as she takes an elevator down.

As I unlock the door to my apartment, a heavy weight settles in my chest. I glance at my phone, knowing JP will be gone for the next few days.

Maybe the distance will give me time to think. Because by the time he gets back, I’ll need to figure out what I want.

And what I’m willing to risk to have it.