Page 65 of Pucking the Team

I groan and tilt my head back as Emma’s hand cups my balls, gently massaging them as she sucks my cock with increasing vigor. The dual sensations are mind-blowing, pushing me rapidly towards the edge.

“Em, baby, I’m getting close,” I warn her, my abs clenching as I fight off my impending orgasm. I don’t want this to end yet. “You keep that up and I’m gonna explode.”

Emma releases my shaft from her mouth, still pumping me with her fist. “Then come on my face, Slade,” she encourages huskily. “I want to wear your seed like a badge of honor.”

“Fuck,” I curse, my hips flexing involuntarily. Emma’s dirty talk never fails to undo me.

She smiles seductively up at me before engulfing my cock in her hot mouth once more, sucking me deep. Her hand speeds up on my shaft as she bobs on the head, her tongue flicking wickedly.

“Oh fuck, Em, just like that,” I groan, my good hand fisting in her hair. “Suck that dick, baby. I’m gonna paint that pretty face.”

A few more hard sucks and I’m coming undone. Emma releases me from her mouth and aims my spurting cock at her face.

I groan at the intensely erotic sight of my seed striping Emma’s flushed cheeks and parted lips. She looks thoroughly wrecked and sexy as hell wearing my release like makeup.

Emma licks her lips, tasting my seed as she gazes up at me with a satisfied smile. “Mmm, you taste amazing,” she says before standing up and pressing her wet face against mine in a filthy kiss. I groan into her mouth, my tongue chasing the flavor of my own release.

“Fuck, you are so sexy,” I murmur appreciatively, my good hand gripping her hip. “Such a good girl, taking care of me like that.”

“It was my pleasure,” Emma assures me with a wicked grin. “I love making you feel good, Slade.”

“Oh, I definitely felt good, sweetheart,” I chuckle, tucking my softening cock back into my shorts before pulling her close again, ignoring the dull throb in my injured shoulder. “But don’t think I’ve forgotten about my promise.”

“Don’t worry, I’m counting on you to keep that promise,” Emma assures me with a saucy wink, wiping the last of my seed from her face with her fingers and licking them clean. “I can’t wait to have you and the guys worship my body all night long.”

I can’t wait for that, too, I think. Hopefully, it’s going to work out exactly the way I’m planning.

CHAPTER 29

LUKAS

The bright city lights whiz by as I speed my car up I-90, my stomach in uncharacteristic knots. I’m on my way to meet up with Ryan for drinks. We promised Slade that we’d sort our shit out, and I’m always good on my word to Slade.

But fuck if this is going to be easy.

My phone buzzes, and I glance over to see my dad’s name flashing on the screen. I let out a sigh, already knowing exactly how this conversation will go.

Against my better judgment, I hit the button on my steering wheel to pick up the call. Immediately, my dad’s voice fills the car, spewing rapid-fire Czech.

“Lukáši! I cannot believe the incompetence of your team. You are so much better than all of them put together. And Harrison, letting himself get injured like that? Unacceptable. This is all Thompson’s fault, you know. Fucking ridiculous that the owners made such a big deal about his trade, he’s been disastrous for the team. I’m going to start making calls, see if we can get you traded somewhere that actually deserves you…”

I grip the steering wheel tighter as his tirade continues. In the past, I would’ve just let him rant until he ran out of steam. But things are different now. I take a deep breath, remembering what Emma said to me last month.

“But bottling it up isn’t healthy either. It festers. Maybe it’s time to finally unburden yourself.”

There was something about the earnest look in her eyes that caught me off guard. Most people don’t see past the cocky exterior to the fucked up parts underneath. But somehow, Emma did. And damn if she wasn’t right.

So yeah, I’m seeing a therapist now.

His name is Doug, and our team’s mental health coach, Sophie, referred me to him. He does virtual visits with me so I can work around our crazy travel schedule. Doug’s a calm, balding guy in his 50s, and he’s been fucking incredible at challenging what has turned out to be a lot of ingrained toxic traits.

These past few sessions with Doug have given me a whole new perspective on how to handle dear old Dad. Time to put it into practice.

“Tati,” I interrupt him firmly. “Stop. Slade’s injury was my fault, no one else’s. I fucked up, and I take full responsibility for that.”

He sputters in protest, but I plow ahead, not giving him a chance to derail me.

“And another thing—this dynamic between us needs to change. I know your lectures come from a place of love, but I’m a grown man. I need you to start treating me like one, with respect, or else…” I swallow hard. “Or else I’m going to have to stop taking your calls.”

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