Pucked Over (Pucked #3) (11 page)

“What?” Miller’s eyes narrow.

The girl Randy was with on the deck comes storming through the house.

I point. “That’s her.”

“Tash?” Now Miller looks baffled.

“I don’t know what her name is, but they had their hands all over each other.” I swirl my drink.

“That’s the team’s trainer,” Sunny says.

A hockey player I recognize—his name is Lance, I think—is right on her heels, calling after her.

“I think maybe there’s a misunderstanding, because if anyone’s with Tash, it’s Lance, not Randy.”

Sunny nods. “Totally. Randy’s all about you these days.”

Miller gives her the eye.

“Isn’t that what you said earlier?” She twists her hair around her finger.

“Hey, Balls,” Miller’s gaze lifts over my head.

“Hey.”

His deep voice makes my insides liquid, but not Ebola liquid, sexy liquid. I can practically feel his body heat behind me. Okay, that’s not true, but he runs a finger from the nape of my neck all the way to the base of my spine, and I can definitely feel that. My body tightens with anticipation. All the blood seems to get sucked straight into my clit. Just from his finger. I don’t get it. Now all I want to do is jump him, even though less than five minutes ago some other girl was touching him.

I take a deep breath and turn. His hair is pulled back in that pony nub he’s got going on. Usually I think man buns are stupid. For some reason on him it’s sexy.

“Hey, Lily. Not gonna run away from me this time?” His lip curves up in a half-smile.

His beard is so perfect. Just like the rest of him. I want to run my fingers through it. Stroke it. Him. I also might want to ride his face. Again.
Jesus
. What’s wrong with me? I realize I’m staring, and he’s made a snarky comment. I open my mouth, and all that comes out is a sigh.

His grin gets bigger. Cocky pucker. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

I take a hefty sip of my drink. It’s strong, whatever it is. I turn my head and cough. When I look back again, I’m slightly more composed. “I don’t see the point since you’ll probably follow me anyway.”

“There’s a good chance.” He skims my shoulder with a fingertip. “This is pretty.”

“Thanks.” The tags are still attached to this dress. They’re tucked inside, and the little plastic thing is poking me in the armpit. It cost more than a hundred dollars. I can’t afford to keep it, so my plan is to wear it tonight, have it dry cleaned, and return it to the store on Monday. It’s dishonest and underhanded, but I wanted to look nice tonight. The last formal-ish dress I bought was for my prom, and that was years ago.

We stand and stare at each other for a while longer, saying nothing. I wish I would have hugged him right away or something, but it seems awkward now. All the messages we’ve been sending back and forth over the past week make my skin hot. It’s so much easier to flirt and threaten sexting when I don’t have to look at his face.

“So what’s going on with Tash and Lance?” Miller asks.

“Who knows. They’re acting all weird. I’m not sure what the deal is, but Tash elbowed me in the face, and Lance misunderstood, and now they’re pissed at each other.”

“Are you okay?” Sunny asks, seeming genuinely concerned.

“It’s fine, just kinda hurt for a few minutes. Thanks for asking.” Randy directs his grin at me.

Miller takes a swig of his beer and shakes his head. “I still don’t get why she’d be interested in him. He puts his dick everywhere.”

“You used to put your dick everywhere,” Sunny pipes up. She’s not angry, just honest.

“I was never that bad.”

Randy lifts an eyebrow. Sunny does the same.

“Seriously. I wasn’t
that
bad.”

Sunny pats him on the cheek, then replaces her hand with her lips. “It’s okay, Miller. I’m just saying, I still gave you a chance even though you were slutty, and look how well that’s turned out? People change, or at least the things they want can change.”

Miller kisses her fingertips. “I had to work real hard to convince you I was serious about you, sweets.”

Sunny bats her lashes. “You did such a good job, too.”

Randy makes a gagging noise. “You two are worse than a chick flick. You need to take that shit somewhere else.”

“They’ve been taking it somewhere else all damn day,” I mutter into my glass.

Miller and Sunny break apart. “We have not!” Sunny’s voice is high, the way it gets when she’s lying, or embarrassed.

“It’s okay, sweets. Don’t feel bad about wanting a piece of this.” Miller motions to himself, more specifically his crotch.

“I’ll be back in a minute. I need the ladies room.” I set my glass on the counter and turn to Randy. “Keep an eye on these two; they keep disappearing.”

“And that’s a problem why?”

I roll my eyes and head for the bathroom. I need to gather myself. I don’t like how territorial I feel about Randy, and we haven’t even slept together. I remind myself that this isn’t going to be serious. He lives in Chicago. I live in Canada. We’re having some fun. I need a break from serious anyway. I deserve this, and I can totally handle it.

I lock myself inside the bathroom, surprised and a little disappointed that Randy didn’t follow me this time. I turn on the tap while I do my business, then check my reflection in the mirror. Violet and Charlene had their way with my face. I didn’t let them do much, but I’m wearing mascara and eye shadow. I drew the line at lipstick and made do with gloss.

I pull out a package of wipes from my purse and tear it open. It smells like mint and cucumber. Violet gave them to me today and told me to thank her later. I drop my panties, which are edged in lace, and give myself a little rubdown. I want to be prepared for whatever happens, or doesn’t, tonight. The mint makes everything tingle.

I toss the wipe in the garbage, wash my hands, fix my hair again, and open the door.

“Took you long enough.” Randy steps inside and locks us in.

“What’s with you and bathrooms?” I back up until I hit the wall.

He steps in close. “What’s with you and always running away from me?”

“I wasn’t running. I had to use the bathroom.” If I could dig my nails into the plaster behind me, I would. As it is I’m fighting the urge to run my hands over his very hard, very big body. If I arch my back at all, parts of me will touch parts of him.

“I think maybe you were looking for a reason to make me follow you.” He braces his forearm against the wall beside my head. His shirt stretches tight over his bicep. God, he’s ripped.

“So what if I was?”

“Is that an admission?”

“You’ve been sexting me all week; what do you need an admission for?” I slide my hands behind my ass so I don’t do something stupid, like grab his face and ram my tongue down his throat. Again.

His knee rests against my thighs, looking to get between them. If he does, I’m guaranteed to start dry-humping. I hold them tight together. If he gets in there, I lose this game. I’d really like to be able to control myself until we can make it to a location that isn’t a bathroom.

“You’re the one sending all the racy pictures.” His eyes drop to my mouth.

Game on. “Racy pictures? You mean of me in my skating outfit?”

“And the one of you fucking up my view with those tennis balls down your shirt.”

Cleavage selfies are not my specialty. Especially compared to that slutty bitch’s from last week. Not that I’m fixated on that, or anything.

I’m so, so screwed tonight. Any hope of rational decision-making has gone out the window. Not that I was honestly planning on making rational, smart decisions.

The pressure against my thighs increases, so I squeeze tighter. Randy’s breath leaves him on a heavy exhale. He smells vaguely of some fruity drink. I tip my chin up; it’s as close as I’m getting to caving.

“That skating outfit gave me hours of enjoyment.” His mouth descends on mine.

As soon as our lips connect, I part mine and welcome his tongue. I also part my legs and welcome his thigh by grinding on it like I’m pole dancing. Randy doesn’t seem to have a warm-up button. He caresses the outside of my leg, reaching the hem of my skirt.

“Please tell me this means we’re fucking tonight,” he groans into my mouth.

“Uh-huh.”

We’re rubbing up on each other like cats in heat. I don’t even know what the hell is happening. His hands are all over the place: under my skirt kneading my ass, over my dress palming my boobs.

“I need to get you into a bed,” he mumbles.

“I have a room upstairs.”

“Why are we in here then?”

“Because you followed me like a creepy stalker.”

He breaks free from our kiss. “Creepy stalker? Is that what you really think?”

His gaze is intense. I gauge the tension in his posture and run a soft hand down the side of his neck. “No.”

“No?”

I decide now is a good time to be vulnerable. I’m not trying to take advantage of the situation, because let’s face it, this man knows his way around a woman’s body. My experience is limited to Benji—who I’m discovering wasn’t an awesome lay—and the few guys I hooked up with while we were on one of our breaks.

“I’m deflecting.”

“Deflecting what?”

“I don’t want to be a disappointment.”

The hand on my boob stills, along with his knee between my legs. “A disappointment? How the fuck is that possible?”

I cringe. “I don’t know why I said that. You make it hard to think.” I wish I could stop embarrassing myself.

“You don’t need to think about anything other than how good I’m going to make you feel as soon as we get to a bed.” He cups my cheek in his palm—it’s rough, and warm, and tender all at the same time. “Where’s your room?”

I tell him, as best I can, in clipped, nervous directions.

“I’ll meet you there in five minutes.” He kisses me again, hard. When he’s done owning my mouth, he opens the door, checks things out, and sends me on ahead.

No Disappointments

RANDY

I need a minute to gather myself.

I watch Lily rush around the corner as I adjust my hard-on. Her dress is driving me insane. When I was ten I took a year of figure skating. Me and Miller went together. We thought it was stupid. We could already skate; we didn’t need to learn leaps and spins and twirls.

Then we met our coach and stopped thinking it was such a waste of time. Her name was Deanna. She was a hardass, and she was hot as sin. She was probably only seventeen or eighteen at the time, but she was the first chick I ever got a hard-on over, and eventually, she was the reason behind my first wet dream. Lily’s even hotter, and this time I get to live the fantasy, not just make a mess in my sheets over it.

Lily is a riot, and she’s been dishing it out as good as she can take it all week in our messages. So I came tonight with a preconceived idea of how this would go. And then she drops this little gem:
“I don’t want to be a disappointment.”

That’s a serious screeching-tires moment. I don’t think I’ve ever slept with a chick—at least not since I was drafted—who seemed at all concerned about her ability to please me, let alone expressed worry about potentially disappointing me.

Most of the time, the women who get in bed with me have zero inhibitions. They get naked and offer themselves up any way I want them. It’s a little fucked up, to be honest. Lily doesn’t fit into the bunny mold. So I’m having a few reservations about what’s about to go down—not enough to back things up, but enough that I need to re-evaluate my strategy.

I don’t get how someone who looks like Lily and moves like Lily could have as little self-confidence as she seems to. Unless she’s playing mind games. I don’t see why she would, though. I also feel like maybe I need to find that ex-boyfriend of hers and beat on him a little. Or a lot. I bet he’s directly related to her sometimes shaky self-esteem.

All week I’ve been fixated on getting to this point: the one where she’s naked again. But this time I’ll be privileged enough to experience that tight little body from the inside. Tonight needs to be about more than a good time. She needs to come out of this situation feeling like a damn porn star—okay, maybe not a porn star, but she needs to feel sexy. It needs to be good for her. And above all else, it needs to be fun.

Checking the hall again, I turn off the light in the bathroom and head for the stairs, making a right at the top and counting the doors as I go. Waters has a sweet pad in Bridgeport. When I get to the right room, I look over my shoulder to make sure no one else is around before I turn the knob.

“Psst.”

I turn and find Lily peeking out of the room on the opposite side of the hall. Oops. At the same time, I hear footsteps. I rush past the stairs, and she grabs my shirt and hauls me inside, closing the door with a quiet click. Then she stealthily turns the lock. I hit the lights.

“What are you doing? I can’t see anything!” she whispers.

“Someone was coming up the stairs,” I whisper back.

“Oh.” Her hands move over my chest. “Who was it?”

“Don’t know. I didn’t wait to find out.”

“Sunny might be looking for me,” she mutters as she finds the hem of my shirt and pulls it free from my pants.

“Is that li—”

She mashes her hand over my face and almost sticks her finger up my nose. I lick her palm and feel her nails tickling their way up my ribs. I grasp her forearm before she can reach my nipples, so she rubs her damp palm over my face instead. I grab that hand as well, so now she has none free. Clasping them together behind her back, I drop my chin and bonk the top of her head.

“Ow!” she whispers and proceeds to bite me through my shirt.

In the fifteen seconds or so that the lights have been off, I’ve grown accustomed to the darkness. Across the room I can make out a set of doors that look like they lead to a closet, and another door I assume is a bathroom. I spin Lily around, let go of her hands, clamp one of mine over her mouth to stop her from ruining my plans, and wrap my other arm around her waist.

She makes angry noises that might be words as I carry her across the room. I shoulder open the door. The slippery tile under my feet tells me I’ve guessed right and am indeed inside a bathroom. She bites my palm, but I don’t set her down until I’ve got the door closed, and we’re once again submerged in darkness.