Page 32 of Good Pucking Luck

“I have cum on my shirt…and my pants. God, there’s jizz everywhere. I should go.”

“What? No!” Rylan rushes out like I just threatened to murder someone. “I’ll get you some clothes.”

“Which will fall off me.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” He pumps his brows in a way that should look much more ridiculous than it does. What is it with this guy? He can make anything look good. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something before you jumped in my arms and superglued your lips to mine.”

“Ugh!” I drop my head back against the couch. The worst part of what he just said is that he’s not wrong. That’s one hundred percent what I did and absolutely not what I’d planned to do when I came over. “I’ve never done that before either.”

“Most people aren’t as irresistible as me, so it’s understandable.”

“I’m being serious.” I run a hand through my hair. This is all a lot, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.

“Okay. Sorry. Let me get you some clothes, and then we’ll talk.”

I’m surprised when I nod, but I don’t think I have it in me to move right now. I’m stuck between shock, embarrassment, and feeling like I’m suddenly a sex god too.

Rylan tugs his shorts up, then disappears upstairs. I consider pulling up my pants and running, but I’m not fond of leaving the house with cum all over me.

He comes back down a moment later, and it’s clear he’s wiped up and changed his shorts. He hands me a Rebels T-shirt and a pair of sweats.

“You can use the bathroom down the hall. There should be a washcloth in there for you.”

I don’t make eye contact as I hurry to the bathroom, trying to jog with my dick flopping around and my pants around my knees. It can’t be a sexy picture, and not for the first time, I wonder why he wants to have sex with me so much, why anyone would.

I close the door behind me and find a washcloth and wet it. After stripping out of my clothes, I begin to clean up.

Okay…so there’s obviously incredible chemistry between us. Chemistry doesn’t always make sense. Sometimes it’s just a thing that happens, and though it’s never happened for me like this, it does with Rylan. So, either we go our separate ways or just…let the chemistry run its course. Eventually, it will.

I get dressed in his clothes, which are definitely too big for me. I’m not a twinky guy, but I’m also not a fucking professional hockey player either.

Holding my folded clothes and my shoes, I return to the living room. At first, I don’t see Rylan, but then movement on his back deck catches my attention. It’s a large space with chairs, a built-in grilling station, and a pool. When I get closer, I notice a privacy fence and a path which I’m sure leads down to the beach.

I set my clothes and shoes by the door, take a deep breath, and head outside.

“What are you doing?” I ask as he opens the grill.

“Making us dinner.”

“You don’t have to make us dinner.”

“Do you like chicken?”

“Is there anyone who doesn’t like chicken?”

Rylan chuckles. “Vegans, vegetarians?” He places some seasoned breasts on his Blackstone grill.

“Why are you making me dinner? We’re not friends.” The moment the words come out, I regret them. I don’t mean them the way they sounded, but the truth remains that this is only the third time we’ve seen each other, and all we do is have sex.

“Yes, we are.”

“No we’re not.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Has anyone told you that you’re the most annoying person on the face of the planet?” I cross my arms.

“Has anyone told you that you’re cute as shit?”

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