The Penalty Shot (Totally Pucked) Read Online Maren Moore

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)


The one and only rule: Nothing affects our roommate agreement.
Being a single mom, my life revolves around rules.
But…some rules are meant to be broken.
And my new roommate is the temptation I can’t afford.
Asher Hart, the handsome, tattooed hockey player who’s doing everything he can to penetrate the walls around my heart.
I should have known that he would be trouble… but maybe a little trouble is exactly what I need.
He tells me I’m his good girl. That he’s proud of me. And shows me a side of myself I never knew existed until he walked into my life.
No matter how addicted I am to the way he makes me feel, I know it’s only temporary.
And now I just have to find a way to protect my heart from being the penalty.

Full Book:


Love of my life- Harry Styles

Can’t Help Falling in Love- Elvis Presley

Smells Like Teen Spirit- Nirvana

She Used To Be Mine- Sara Bareilles

Bad For Me (feat. Teddy Swims)- Meghan Trainor

We Danced- Brad Paisley

Don’t Blame Me- Taylor Swift

Lover- First Dance Remix- Taylor Swift

Wrecked- Imagine Dragons

Lovely- Billie Eilish, Khalid

Under The Influence- Chris Brown

I Wanna Be Yours- Arctic Monkeys

Waiting For Never- Post Malone

Light Switch- Charlie Puth

Heat Waves- Glass Animals

Do I Wanna Know?- Arctic Monkeys

* * *

To listen to the full playlist click here.

Chapter One


"Oh, harder, right there…uggghhhh yes. Oh Daddy, I’m your little slut.”

Generally speaking, most guys would love to start their day with a girl writhing on their cock moaning in the throes of passion.

In my case, not so much, seeing as how this godawful noise is penetrating my bedroom wall, when all I want to do is fucking sleep. Shit, I might even be a little into it if the girl didn’t sound like she was an injured animal or recording a low-budget porno. There’s a one-hundred-percent chance that she’s faking it, and I’d bet my own cock on it. There is absolutely no way a girl having an actual soul-shattering orgasm could possibly sound like that.

Groaning, I sit up and beat my fist on the wall, once, twice, then a third time for good measure.


For the first time in months, I’m not up at five a.m., before the sun rises, and on to a grueling practice. So forgive me for being annoyed that my neighbors like to fuck like bunnies as soon as daylight hits.

I flop back on the bed, pulling the plush feather-down pillow over my head in an attempt to fall back asleep, which doesn’t seem to be working. Although the noise has died down and my amateur porn-star neighbors across the wall have quieted, I can’t seem to get comfortable and apparently, I’m up for the day. Fucking wonderful.

Getting up from the bed, I snag a pair of sweats, pull them over my hips, and head for the kitchen. While walking down the hallway, I notice that there are double the boxes that were there last night, meaning Hudson’s had a busy night.

Part of me still can’t wrap my head around him moving out. I mean, yeah, I get it, but it still sucks. Everyone’s moving out, getting married, having kids. Shit’s changing, more and more every day. I mean Hudson’s just moving out, not getting married, but still…Everyone’s going their separate ways.

“You’re up early,” Hudson says, gripping a protein shake in one hand with a wet towel hanging around his neck. He looks like he dunked himself in the pool, but I know that just means he’s been in the gym. For someone as carefree and laid back as Hudson is, he sure as fuck has a thing for routine. One he never deviates from if he can help it. Even during the off season, he’s working out.

I shrug, offering a surly grunt, dragging a hand down my face as I try to fully wake-up. “Neighbor Girl and her man were at it bright and early again this morning, and I couldn’t go back to sleep after I hit the wall.”

Hudson laughs, shaking his wet hair out of his face. “I almost feel guilty leaving you behind to deal with that, but seeing as how I know you want to be the one making her sound like a dying cat…It lessens the guilt a little.”

“Fuck off. All I want is some peace and quiet, not to listen to that shit every morning. She’s not that hot. Not enough to sacrifice sleep.”

I put my favorite Marvel mug under the coffeemaker, one of the few things left remaining on the counter, and press start. I’m desperate for the strongest fucking coffee I can brew after staying up so late last night working on a sketch. My eyes are dry and feel like sandpaper from lack of sleep, and this morning has put me in a foul mood.

“Whatever you say, but don’t forget, I see how you eye her door on the way to the gym each morning.”