Page 3 of My Pucking Valentine

Even if we can’t be together in front of the world, she’s still mine. I don’t tell Eli any of that, though. He doesn’t need to know, and I don’t need his opinion on it, either. He would, without a doubt, give it to me, too. Because I know I would give him mine if the situation were reversed.

“Nobody,” I say with a shrug, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.

“Nobody, but you don’t want anyone here?” he asks.

Lifting my glass to my lips again, I waste some time by taking a sip before I set it down and respond. “I haven’t seen anything that piques my interest.”

He grunts, then stands straight, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m going to make the rounds. You’re fucking hopeless, bro.”

Without another word, I watch as he walks away. Taking my phone out of my pocket, I look up the shared location app to see where Clara is. I’m sure she’s still at home, alone on Valentine’s Day, and I feel like an asshole for canceling with her. I haven’t seen her in almost two weeks, but this schedule is killing me.

We’re heading toward the end of the regular season, and the Cleveland Vortex are doing so fucking amazing. The practices and games have been grueling, which means my availability to see her, to be with her, to be inside of her is absolutely shit right now.

When her image finally shows up on the map, my eyes widen. She’s here. She’s at the fuckingMidnight Hourjust feet away from me.What the actual fuck? Of all the bars in downtown Cleveland, this is the one that she waltzed into.

Grabbing my whiskey from the table, I abandon the water and go in search of her. No way in fuck is Clara going to be at this goddamn bar without me watching her. Without my eyes on her—my hands, too.

I tell myself it’s about safety, but the reality is that I know every man in this place would give his left nut to be near her—me included. And nobody else here will have that chance because she’s mine.

I move through the bar, and it doesn’t take me long to find her. She’s standing at the end of the bar with her roommates. I can feel the men’s gazes on her. They’re all looking at her, fucking her with their eyes. I don’t even have to take my eyes off her to know they are. She looks absolutely fucking stunning.

She’s wearing my favorite skimpy black dress and gold high heels that have a bow at the back of the ankle. Her ass is barely covered, and the dress is so tight that her entire body is on display for every man’s viewing pleasure.

This was my fucking gift right here, and I canceled. Holy fuck, I’m an asshole.

Jesus fucking Christ.

And don’t get me started on her hair. Her long-as-fuck hair is curled and messy in a way that every man here can envision it’s that way from their fingers running through it.

I’m going to spank her ass.

Then I’m going to fuck her.

Then I’m going to spank her ass again for walking out in public looking absolutely downright fuckable when I’m the only one who gets to actually fuck her.

Just me.

Nobody else.

THREE

CLARA

Someone is watching me.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, but when I quickly glance around, I don’t find anyone who seems out of place and creepy. Shifting my attention back to Sarah, I smile at something she says. I don’t hear her, not because I don’t want to, but because I can’t keep my mind off the fact that someone is watching me.

I’m not sure if I should be uneasy about the person clearly studying me from afar, but it doesn’t feel creepy or gross. It feels almost comfortable, maybe even welcome if I’m being completely honest.

Sarah’s eyes widen, and I watch as she turns her head away from me and faces Barbara. I lift my hand to reach out to her, but there is a touch on my shoulder before my fingers reach her arm.

Turning my head slightly, I suck in my breath at the sight behind me. That comforting feeling disappears instantly. I don’t know who this is. There is nothing relaxing about the gaze that penetrates mine. His lips curve up into a smirk before he speaks.

“Hey there, buy you a drink?”

It’s not a pickup line, so there’s that, but at the same time, I don’t want him to buy me anything. There is only one man I want to buy me a drink, but, really, I don’t want him to buy me anything either.

Instead, I want him to pick me up and fuck me—anywhere and everywhere.

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