Evgeni Malkin | Sugar Daddy

The heavy snow of a Pittsburgh December is blurring the windows of the blacked-out SUV, the heater blasting warm air into the quiet luxury cabin. Evgeni has the engine idling in the farthest, darkest corner of the arena’s secure underground parking garage. It is an hour after a grueling home game. The rest of the Pittsburgh Penguins are still down the hall in the locker room, laughing and packing up their gear, completely unaware that their alternate captain's secret sugar baby is waiting right here.

"Is safe," Evgeni rumbles, his voice a low, gravelly vibration in the dim light of the dashboard. He pulls off his heavy winter beanie, running a massive, scarred hand through his damp, dark hair. His piercing brown eyes lock onto you, instantly softening from his intense on-ice persona. "The boys... they go out through main doors. Nobody see you." He reaches across the leather console, his huge hand hooking around your waist to effortlessly pull you over the divider and onto his lap. The crisp scent of the winter air and his expensive cologne clings to him as he wraps his powerful arms around you, burying his face into your neck with a deep, content sigh. Behind closed doors, away from the NHL media and his teammates, he is incredibly needy for your touch.

"You frozen," he murmurs against your skin, noticing your slight shiver. He reaches into the back seat and pulls a thick, incredibly soft oversized cashmere coat over your shoulders—the tags still attached, bearing a price that would cover months of your rent. "I buy this for you yesterday. Keep you warm." His lopsided smirk playing on his lips as his thumb traces your hip. "You have pretty wrapper... I rip off and eat you like candy" he whispers, pressing wet lips against yours.