Claimed By The Hockey Star

Chapter Two

CHAPTER 2 : The Beast at My Desk

Venessa’s pov

I spent the entire morning trying to scrub Khalid Al-Mansour from my mind.

I made a hot cup of black coffee. Check. I replied to ten boring work emails. Check. I spent twenty minutes pretending last night was just a weird, bad dream caused by a fever. Double check.

By nine o'clock in the morning, I was already sitting at my small desk at the community outreach center. I forced myself to get buried in grant proposals, paper files, and weekly program schedules. This place was my safe zone. It was totally predictable. It was completely normal. This was exactly how I liked my life to be. There were absolutely no six-foot-five hockey players allowed here. No men with dark, heavy eyes. No men with dangerous, possessive smirks.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed on the desk. It was the third time it had happened in the last hour. The screen showed another unknown number. I pressed the side button and silenced it without checking who it was, just like I did with the first two calls. It was probably just a robot call or spam. Or maybe it was my overly dramatic best friend, Mia, wanting to hear every single detail about the party I had barely survived.

“Venessa, are you okay?” my coworker Lena asked. She peered over the gray plastic partition between our desks. “You look like you didn’t sleep a single wink last night.”

“I didn’t,” I muttered, staring blankly at my computer screen. “I had a really bad night.”

Before I could say anything else, the front desk receptionist came running into our open office area. Her eyes were wide with total excitement, and she was practically gasping for air.

“Venessa! There is someone out here asking for you,” she whispered loudly. She grabbed my arm. “And girl… he is so fine. I mean, he is absolutely beautiful.”

My stomach dropped like a heavy stone.

I stood up very slowly. I smoothed down my simple navy blue blouse, trying to stop my hands from shaking. I walked toward the front reception area as if I were walking toward a live bomb. The exact second I rounded the corner, I froze in my tracks.

Khalid was leaning against the wooden front desk. He looked like he owned the entire building, the street outside, and the soul of anyone who looked at him. He wore a simple black Arctic Wolves hoodie and dark jeans, but those casual clothes did absolutely nothing to hide the big, powerful lines of his body.

In the bright daylight, he looked even bigger than he had last night. He looked so hot it was hard to breathe. He had a body that looked like it was carved out of rock by an artist who only cared about strength. His chest was incredibly wide, stretching the black cotton of his hoodie tight across his pectoral muscles. His shoulders were massive, so broad that he blocked out the light from the front window. Underneath his dark jeans, his thighs were thick and heavy with pure athletic muscle—the kind of thighs that came from skating at top speeds and crashing into walls on the ice.

He was the definition of raw, masculine s*x appeal. His skin was a beautiful, smooth olive tone, and he had a dark shadow of stubble along his sharp, square jawline. It made him look rough, rugged, and entirely untamed. His hair was dark, short, and slightly messy, as if he had just run his big fingers through it. He didn't look like a normal man; he looked like a king who had walked out of a wild forest and into my quiet office. That same heavy, woody cologne hit my nose again, stirring up hot memories I had spent all night trying to forget.

His dark eyes found mine instantly. The moment he saw me, that slow, predatory smirk returned to his handsome face. His lips were full and perfect, curving up in a way that told me he knew exactly what he did to women just by standing near them.

“Morning, Venessa.”

The way he said my name should be completely illegal. His voice was incredibly low, deep, and rough. It was an intimate sound that vibrated right through the air. It made it sound like we shared dirty secrets, like we belonged together in the dark.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed in a sharp whisper.

I glanced around the room nervously. A few of my coworkers were standing near the copy machine, openly staring at him with their mouths open. One girl from accounting was already holding up her phone, taking a sneaky photo of the back of his massive shoulders.

“You left last night without giving me your phone number,” he said. He pushed his heavy body off the desk and took one slow step closer to me. “So, I found you.”

“You found me?” My voice rose, getting a little too loud. “That is not normal, Khalid. That is… that is borderline stalking!”

He shrugged his massive shoulders, completely unbothered by my words. “I prefer to call it determination. You ran away last night. I do not like unfinished business.”

“I did not run away. I simply left the party. There is a very big difference.”

His dark, heavy gaze dropped down to my lips for one long, hot second. It felt like a physical touch. Then he looked back up into my eyes. “You were shaking when you walked away from me last night, little liar. It is the exact same way you are shaking right now.”

“I am not shaking!” I lied, pulling my hands behind my back so he couldn't see my fingers trembling.

At that moment, Mrs. Gable, one of the main program directors, poked her head out of her private office. “Venessa, is everything alright out here?”

“Everything is completely fine,” I said quickly. I said it way too quickly, my voice sounding high and tight.

Khalid turned toward her and flashed a charming smile. It looked almost boyish and sweet if you completely ignored the sharp, dangerous edge that always lived beneath his eyes. “Good morning. I was just inviting Venessa out to have some lunch with me. We met at the big team event last night.”

Mrs. Gable’s eyebrows shot up with extreme interest. She looked at Khalid’s massive, sexy frame and then looked at me. Great. Now the entire office would be gossiping about this for the next three months.

“I can’t go,” I told him firmly, turning back to face him. “I have very important meetings all afternoon.”

“Cancel them.”

“Excuse me?” I gasped, shocked by his arrogance.

Khalid stepped even closer, bending his tall body down so his face was just inches from mine. His voice dropped to a dark whisper that only I could hear. “You have been on my mind since the exact second you walked away from me, little liar. I need to see you outside of that crowded, loud club. Just lunch. One hour. Then, I will leave you alone forever if you still want me to.”

The worst part about this whole thing? I actually believed the “if you still want me to” part. He was giving me an out, a chance to walk away forever. But the deep, burning look in his dark eyes told me he already knew the truth: I wouldn't take them out.

My pulse raced like a wild horse. Every single logical, smart part of my brain was screaming at me. This man was danger. He was a fire that would burn my whole life down. He was a superstar who was completely used to getting every single thing he wanted. And right now, for some crazy, insane reason, he wanted me.

“I will think about it,” I said instead. The words popped out of my mouth before I could stop them, surprising me completely.

Khalid’s dangerous smirk turned into a full, wide smile. It was absolutely devastating. It made him look so handsome it hurt to look at him. It was the smile of a winner. He pulled a big, expensive black phone out of his pocket. “Number.”

This time, I didn't argue. I reached out and took the phone from his hand. My small fingers brushed against his large, warm skin, and that exact same electric spark from last night shot straight up my arm, making my breath hitch. His hands were large, with hard calluses from his hockey stick, looking capable of holding a woman very tight.

I typed my number into his phone with shaking fingers. He took the phone back, typed something quickly on the screen, and then handed it back to me so I could see.

He had saved his contact name as Khalid The Beast

“Text me when you are ready to leave,” he said. He started walking backward toward the glass front door, moving with a lazy, confident grace that proved he felt like he owned the sidewalk outside too. “And Venessa?”

I raised an eyebrow at him, my heart pounding in my throat. “What?”

“Don’t make me come back inside this building to get you,” he said, his voice dropping low and serious. “Because next time I come in here, I won't be this polite.”

He turned and walked out into the warm daylight. The exact second the heavy glass door closed behind him, the entire front office erupted into loud whispers, gasps, and excited squeals from my coworkers.

“Oh my god, Venessa!” Lena yelled, running over to me. “Who is that giant? He looks like a movie star! He is so hot!”

I didn't answer her. I couldn't. I just looked down at the phone in my hand. A brand-new text message was already waiting on my screen.

Khalid: You look even better in the daylight. Lunch at 1:00. I will pick you up out front.*

I stared at the glowing screen for a long time. My heart was hammering against my ribs like a drum. Suddenly, I realized my thighs were pressed tightly together, trying to fight against a sudden, heavy rush of unwanted heat that was pooling deep inside my body.

This was bad. This was very, very bad.

I had a quiet life. I had a safe life. I had rules to protect myself from men like him. But as I stared at his text message, the scariest part of all became clear to me.

I wasn't sure I wanted him to stop.