Page 119 of Pucking Obsessed

Mum brightened. “A holiday to Spain…? Your Dad would love that. I mean, we’d have to take time off work…”

“There’s enough to cover your lost work,” I offer, straightening again.

Hope soared through me.

“A holiday,” Mum repeated like the idea was becoming real in her mind. “Thank you. That would be…I have the best sons in the world.”

I smile at the memory.

I’ll work on Dad to make sure that they go. I didn’t realize just how amazing a holiday could be, until I went on the road trip for the Bay Rebels.

I want my parents to experience that.

I also want to pay back my parents for adopting Eden and me. They’ve told us many times that we don’t need to.

Except, they were the ones who started to teach me that family didn’t only mean pain.

Without them, I could never have trusted Robyn and D’Angelo.

Learned how to love them.

My adoptive parents saved me, as much as my twin did.

I grimace, holding my hand over my stomach. It’s bruised all the way up to my left shoulder.

Luckily, I didn’t end up with a broken rib from the brutal game last night.

On the other hand, it was a good excuse for Robyn to strip me naked afterward at Captain’s Hall, tie me motionless to her bed like I love with her silk scarves, then rub arnica cream into every inch of me.

I’m not sure why she thought that my cock and balls were bruised…

I wasn’t complaining.

See, every cloud has a silver lining.

This is how you take pleasure from pain. I’m good at that.

I grin.

I really must be the luckiest man in the world, right?

I slip my phone out of my pocket, as excitement wells in me.

Fifteen minutes ago, I sent Robyn the simple message: star emoji, followed by a question mark.

Robyn replied with a cheeky string of emojis, which amounted to sexting dirty talk, including a disembodied tongue, taco, and exploding head.

Possibly she’s receiving a mind-blowing tonguing from one of the other blokes and is using one of her free hands to text in the middle of it to tell me that she’ll be up soon, after she’s come.

I hope that she’s with D’Angelo.

His grumpy face, when he saw Robyn texting me as he put in all that effort between her thighs, would have been classic.

Or my preference, is that her text means she wants mytongueburied in her pussy, while we stargaze.

A guy can hope, right?

We can have our own celebration for her birthday underneath the stars.

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