🔥 The Vancouver Night 🔥

An Exclusive Bonus Scene from Puck Around and Find Out

Thank You for Reading! 💙

You made it to the bonus content—which means you’ve experienced Vik and Casey’s journey from enemies to forever. Thank you for giving their story a chance. This exclusive scene is our gift to dedicated readers like you.

This scene takes place during Chapter 6—the night in Vancouver when everything changed. In the book, we fade to black after their incredible chemistry on the ice carries into the hotel room. But here? Here you get everything that happened after Casey whispered “stay” and Vik broke every rule they’d made…

The Vancouver Night

After the game. After the celebration. After Casey said the one word Vik couldn’t refuse…

VIK

“Stay.”

One word. One fucking word, and eleven years of discipline crumbled like ice under a skate blade.

Vik knew the rules. He’d made them himself, back when this arrangement started—when they’d agreed that whatever happened between them stayed in hotel rooms on road trips, never bled into real life, never meant anything more than physical release.

Rule one: No staying the night.

Rule two: No cuddling.

Rule three: Leave it in the room.

Simple rules. Clean rules. Rules designed to keep them both safe from the inevitable complication of feelings.

Casey was looking up at him from the hotel bed, hair wrecked, lips swollen, wearing nothing but the sheets tangled around his waist. The Vancouver skyline glittered through the window behind him, but Vik couldn’t look away from those blue eyes—darker now, pupils blown wide, still hazy from what they’d just done.

“Stay,” Casey said again, softer this time. “Please.”

Vik should leave. He was already half-dressed, one hand on the door handle, every instinct screaming at him to walk away before this became something he couldn’t control.

But Casey’s voice cracked on that last word. Just slightly. Just enough.

“Fuck,” Vik muttered.

He dropped his shirt on the floor and crossed back to the bed.

Casey’s smile when Vik climbed back onto the mattress was worth breaking every rule he’d ever made.

“Knew you couldn’t resist me,” Casey teased, but his voice was shaky, his hands trembling slightly as they reached for Vik’s shoulders.

“You are impossible,” Vik said, settling over him. The size difference was stark like this—Vik’s body covering Casey’s completely, his shoulders twice as broad, his hands large enough to span Casey’s ribcage. “Annoying. Relentless.”

“You forgot charming.”

“I did not forget.” Vik lowered his head, pressing his lips to the pulse point in Casey’s throat. “I left it out deliberately.”

Casey’s laugh turned into a gasp as Vik bit down gently, then soothed the spot with his tongue. “Liar. You think I’m charming.”

“I think you are trouble.”

“Same thing.”

Vik pulled back to look at him—really look, in a way he rarely let himself. Casey was beautiful. Not just attractive, not just pretty, but genuinely beautiful in a way that made something ache in Vik’s chest. The angles of his face, the curve of his mouth, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

He was also looking at Vik like he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Dangerous, a voice whispered in Vik’s head. This is dangerous.

He kissed Casey anyway.

The first round had been fast—adrenaline from the game, weeks of tension finally snapping, hands and mouths everywhere at once. They’d barely made it through the door before Vik had Casey pinned against the wall, swallowing his moans while they rutted against each other like desperate teenagers.

This was different.

This was slow.

Vik took his time mapping Casey’s body with his mouth—the hollow of his throat, the ridge of his collarbone, the sensitive spots along his ribs that made him squirm and gasp. He catalogued every reaction, filed away every sound, learned Casey’s responses like studying game tape.

“Vik—” Casey’s hips jerked as Vik’s mouth found his nipple. “Oh fuck, that’s—”

“Sensitive here,” Vik murmured against his skin. “Good to know.”

“You’re taking notes?”

“Mental notes.” He switched to the other side, earning a broken moan. “I am thorough.”

“You’re a menace.”

Vik smiled against Casey’s skin—actually smiled, something he rarely did—and continued his exploration south. He traced the lines of Casey’s abs with his tongue, felt the muscles contract under his touch, heard the way Casey’s breathing went ragged and uneven.

“Please,” Casey whispered. “Vik, please, I need—”

“What do you need?”

“Your mouth. Please. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.”

The admission hit Vik like a physical blow. “Weeks?”

“Since that first night.” Casey’s cheeks flushed darker. “In the locker room, when you—when we—” He broke off, embarrassment warring with arousal in his expression. “I couldn’t stop thinking about what else you could do with that mouth.”

Christ.

Vik had thought about it too. Had lain awake in his own hotel room after that first encounter, replaying every moment, wondering what Casey would taste like, what sounds he would make, how he would look coming apart completely.

Now he was going to find out.

“I’ve got you,” he said, and took Casey into his mouth.

Casey’s reaction was everything Vik had imagined and more.

His back arched off the bed, a sharp cry escaping his throat. His hands flew to Vik’s hair, gripping tight, not pushing or pulling but just holding on like Vik was the only thing anchoring him to reality.

“Oh god—oh fuck—Vik—”

Vik hummed around him, taking him deeper, using every trick he knew to drive Casey out of his mind. He’d always been competitive—in hockey, in life, in everything he did—and this was no different. He wanted to be the best Casey had ever had. Wanted to ruin him for anyone else.

The possessive thought should have alarmed him. Instead, it only made him work harder.

“I’m gonna—” Casey’s thighs tensed, his whole body going rigid. “Vik, I’m close, I’m—”

Vik pulled off.

“No—” The word came out as a desperate whine. “Why did you stop?”

“Because I am not done with you yet.” Vik pressed a kiss to Casey’s hip, feeling the rapid flutter of his pulse. “And I want this to last.”

“You’re trying to kill me.”

“Not kill.” Another kiss, to the inside of his thigh. “Just… savor.”

Casey groaned, dropping his head back against the pillows. “Since when do you savor anything? You inhale food like it’s going to disappear.”

“Food is fuel.” Vik nipped at the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, enjoying the way Casey twitched. “This is different.”

“How is this different?”

Vik looked up, meeting Casey’s eyes over the planes of his body. “Because it is you.”

Something shifted in Casey’s expression—vulnerability replacing the teasing, something raw and unguarded surfacing in his gaze. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Casey reached for him, pulling him up into a kiss that tasted like desperation and something dangerously close to tenderness.

“I want—” Casey’s voice broke against Vik’s mouth. “I want you inside me. Please. I need to feel you.”

Vik groaned, his restraint fraying at the edges. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” Casey’s hands framed Vik’s face, forcing him to meet his eyes. “I want all of you. Everything you’ll give me.”

Everything.

The word echoed in Vik’s chest, terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“Turn over,” he said, his voice rough. “Hands and knees.”

Casey complied instantly, and the sight of him—that athletic body on display, all lean muscle and golden skin—made Vik’s blood surge hot and demanding.

“So beautiful,” he muttered, running his hands down Casey’s spine. “You have no idea, do you? How perfect you look like this.”

“Vik—” Casey’s voice cracked.

“So responsive.” Vik leaned down, pressing a kiss to the small of his back. “So eager. Such a good boy for me.”

The sound Casey made at those words—a broken, needy whimper—went straight to Vik’s core.

“You like that.” It wasn’t a question. “Being told you are good.”

“Yes,” Casey breathed. “Please. More.”

Vik filed that information away for later use. Then he lowered his mouth and gave Casey exactly what he’d asked for.

By the time Vik finally pushed inside him, Casey was wrecked.

His arms had given out somewhere between the second and third time Vik brought him to the edge and backed off. Now he was face-down in the pillows, trembling all over, making sounds that weren’t quite words but communicated desperation perfectly.

“Please,” he begged. “Please, Vik, I need—I can’t—”

“I know.” Vik pressed in slowly, giving Casey’s body time to adjust to the stretch. “I have you. Just breathe.”

Casey took a shuddering breath, then another. Vik felt him relax by degrees, felt the tension melt into acceptance, felt the moment Casey’s body welcomed him completely.

“Okay?” Vik asked, though his voice was strained with the effort of holding still.

“More than okay.” Casey looked over his shoulder, eyes glassy with pleasure. “Move. Please. I need you to move.”

Vik moved.

He started slow—long, deep strokes that made them both groan—but Casey wasn’t having it. He pushed back, demanding more, harder, faster, and Vik gave him everything he asked for.

“That’s it,” he growled against Casey’s ear, one hand fisted in his hair, the other gripping his hip hard enough to bruise. “Take it. Take all of it. You were made for this.”

“Yours,” Casey gasped. “I’m yours, Vik. Only yours.”

The declaration shattered something in Vik’s chest—some wall he’d spent years building, some barrier designed to keep everyone out. In that moment, buried deep inside Casey while the Vancouver lights glittered around them, he felt it crumble completely.

“Mine,” he agreed, and the word felt like a promise. “Mine.”

He angled his hips, searching for the spot that would make Casey see stars, and knew he’d found it when Casey’s whole body seized up, a scream tearing from his throat.

“There,” Casey sobbed. “Right there, please, don’t stop—”

Vik didn’t stop. He drove into that spot relentlessly, wrapping his hand around Casey’s neglected length and stroking in time with his thrusts.

“Come for me,” he commanded. “Let go. I want to feel you.”

Casey shattered.

The clench of his body pulled Vik over the edge too, pleasure crashing through him in waves as he buried himself deep and let go completely.

Afterward, Vik broke another rule.

He pulled Casey into his arms and held him close, stroking gentle fingers through his sweat-damp hair while their heartbeats slowed. Casey made a soft, contented sound and burrowed closer, his face pressed against Vik’s chest like he belonged there.

Maybe he did.

“That was…” Casey trailed off, apparently unable to find words.

“Yes,” Vik agreed. “It was.”

Silence stretched between them—comfortable, easy. Outside, the city hummed with late-night energy, but in this room, in this moment, nothing existed except the two of them.

“Vik?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you for staying.”

Vik pressed a kiss to the top of Casey’s head—another broken rule, another line crossed—and tightened his arms around him.

“Thank you for asking.”

They fell asleep like that, tangled together, rules forgotten.

When Vik woke to pale morning light and Casey still warm in his arms, he realized with startling clarity that he was in serious trouble.

Because somewhere between the first kiss and the last whispered word, this had stopped being an arrangement.

This had become something real.

~ The End ~

Coming Next in the Chicago Stags Series

Book 2: Stick Handling — Marcus Chen’s Story
The backup goalie with a secret. The physical therapist who sees right through him. When an injury forces them together, Marcus has to decide if protecting his heart is worth losing the one person who makes him feel seen.

Friends to Lovers • Hurt/Comfort • Found Family