Page 39 of Puck Shy

“I told you I want you. I want you, Stevie.”

The silence of the room envelopes us, and all I can hear is the sound of our heavy breathing.

“Did you wear his jersey to make me angry?” he asks after a moment.

I bite my lower lip. “It’s complicated.” I answer truthfully. “But I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He presses a kiss to my cheek. “I know, baby.” Then he moves his lips to my ear again, his tone dark and hot as he says, “But I want to punish you for it. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since I walked out on the ice and saw you wearing the rookie’s number. I also want to punish you for leaving your damn door open,” he nearly growls.

I let out a shuddering breath, arousal coiling like a spring in my lower belly. It’s been so long since I’ve had someone touch me in more than a friendly way. And I can’t deny I miss the sting of the paddle followed by the feeling of a huge cock inside me. Scratch that. The feeling of his huge cock inside me.

Fuck, I want him so badly. I take a deep inhale and channel how I felt that night at the mansion when we met. The woman in the mask never questioned herself or how she felt about sex. That woman took charge, took her pleasure, and fucked like Porn Star of the Year.

I know that woman is me, and I want to be able to be her whenever I want. I want to be her with Lucas. I want to have her seamlessly blend into my life without feeling like I can only let her out at the club. Maybe with Lucas, I can feel safe enough to do that—I just don’t know if he’ll like all he sees.

“Stevie?” Lucas asks. “If you really don’t want me—if you want me to keep my hands off, to be your friend—I will go back to my hotel room. Or maybe I’ll find a punching bag and pretend it’s Johnny’s face. But I hope you’ll let me worship you, show you all the things I’ve been dreaming of doing to your fuck-hot body for the last two months while I got myself off. Just like you did to yourself in the tub.”

A small moan escapes my lips as I search his eyes, looking for any reason beyond my own hang-ups to say no to him, to convince myself that he’s lying and maybe he’s only using me to win games. But I know none of that is true. Lucas is too good for that. I’ve learned over the last two months that the reason he’s never in the press for bad things is because he never does anything bad.

Unless you count dirty sex in public bathrooms and mansions.

What harm could another night or two do? Just because we sleep together does not mean we’re dating. If that were true, I’d have more than a couple of exes.

Decision made, I trap my lower lip between my teeth, a genuine smile now teasing my lips. “How would you punish me, MVP?”

He wastes no time pressing me further into the wall, and one of the sticks falls to the ground next to us. This is probably a hazard, but I like the possessive nature of it. It makes my pussy wetter, and all I want is for him to get on his knees in front of me and lick me dry.

“I have so many ways, Cherry, so many ideas in my head that even my kinky-ass brother might faint at if he knew,” he says hotly.

I laugh, my hips now pressing into him. When I feel his hard length against my soft belly, I want to cry. Real cock. Not silicone cock. Real cock. For the love of God, I’m ready to worship that beautiful piece of art until he’s crying or passing out.

Lucas hovers over my lips for a moment, and just when I think he’s going to kiss me, he pulls back, taking the stick I’ve been clutching in my grip from my fingers.

“Take off that fucking jersey,” he says. I stare into his beautiful blue eyes, his smile now gone, and his features stern. Shit. I bet if I dressed him up in one of his game day suits, he’d be my slutty professor fantasy come to life. Or maybe I’d be the student who plays with her professor instead.

I draw up my lips and bring my hands to the hem of the jersey. I take my time, being sure to tease him as I lift it up and up, exposing my round belly and then the cups of my blue bra. It’s not really a cute bra—it’s more for supporting the girls. But when I saw it, I had to get it, because it reminded me of his eyes. And no, I didn’t buy it recently; I bought it before we met. Fangirl, remember?

Once the jersey is off, he holds out his hand, face still emotionless. I give him the jersey, and then he props the stick in his armpit while he grips the fabric and then rips it with Herculean force.

“Lucas!” I cry. “How am I supposed to get back to my hotel room?”

He doesn’t answer, just keeps up his task. The jersey rips and rips and rips. When he’s satisfied with his destruction, he throws it across the room.

“And the rest,” he says, using the blade of the stick, running it with gentle precision over my cleavage then down my tummy until he’s pressing it gently against the space between my legs. “Now, Cherry. My patience is wearing thin.”

My heart pounds in my chest. I bring my hands to my back first, unclasping my bra. My breasts fall free, the cool air making the buds of my nipples tighten. He lets himself look, but to his credit, he doesn’t show any emotion. If I didn’t see the outline of his cock in his jeans, I’d think he was unaffected.

Once my bra is tossed to the side, I unbuckle my belt and shimmy out of my pants and underwear, taking my Converse shoes and socks with them.

Lucas appraises my naked body with his eyes. I’m grateful I got a full wax at the hotel spa the other day when I had a bit of downtime. I decided to go mostly clean, only leaving a trimmed triangle of hair behind, just the way I like it. I try not to think too hard about my ultimate crush studying my body like a car he wants to buy, but I have no masks to hide my face this time or to pretend I’m someone else. Or dark lights to shadow me.

My eyes must show my insecurity, because Lucas uses the stick to keep my chin level and my eyes on his.

“You’re fucking beautiful, Stevie. Fucking. Beautiful. I can’t wait to use this body”—he grins slyly—“however I want.”

He runs the stick over my nude form, down the rolls of my stomach and the swell of my thigh. He inches close to my pussy then backs off, running it down my inner thigh so I shiver.

“Perfect,” he says so quietly I would’ve thought I imagined it had I not seen his lips move. Then he drags the stick back toward my cunt, the tip just touching my outer lips. “Such a naughty girl,” he scolds before trailing the tip of the wet stick up my body again. As he’s about to reach my breast, a knock sounds on the equipment room door.

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