Page 44 of Dirty Pucker

“You need to get that door fixed, dude,” Xander says to Theo.

Theo sighs and closes his eyes as he leans back. “It’s on my to-do list.”

I glance over at Ingrid, who’s staring at me. My head spins. Not even thirty seconds ago she was sitting on my lap, my cock was hard as steel, and we were kissing.

I glance down at my lap, my boner long gone.

When I look up at Ingrid, her pretty face twists in sympathy. She mouths, “Sorry.” I mouth, “Me too.”

The rest of the night, all I can think about is how I barely kissed Ingrid…and how I’d give anything to finish what we started.

Chapter 15

Del

Irace across the ice, my legs and lungs on fire.

Sweat pours down my face, into my eyes. It burns but I keep going.

I skid to a halt at the line on the ice, then flip around and race to the other side. I do it again and again until I hear Coach Porter blow the whistle.

The second he does, I hunch over and brace my hands on my legs. I’m gasping for air and my ears are ringing.

When I look up, he’s frowning at us, arms crossed over his chest. He says something about how we should thank the handful of us who were late to practice for that especially tough drill.

Behind me, a few of my teammates grumble. I don’t blame them. Suicide drills are the fucking worst.

But part of me is glad that practice was so tough today. I was trying so hard not to pass out that I was distracted from thinking about that kiss with Ingrid the other night.

I guess it wasn’t technically a kiss. Our lips touched for about two seconds before we were interrupted and she jumped off my lap.

My dick can’t tell the difference though. I think about Ingrid constantly. About how silky her mouth felt against mine, how hot and soft her thighs felt on my lap, how her big blue eyes were cloudy with arousal as she looked at me, how she smelled like vanilla and lemon and flowers…

I think about what would have happened if we hadn’t been interrupted.

I would have cupped her soft face in my hands and kissed her. I would have slowly teased her tongue with mine. I would have run my hands all over her body, relishing her silky soft skin.

And if she wanted it, I would have run my mouth along the side of her neck, all the way down her chest to those perfect boobs in that tiny bikini top…

And there’s goes my dick again, twitching to life.

I huff out a breath, annoyed with myself for letting myself fantasize about Ingrid. Again.

I’ve jerked off to fantasizing about kissing Ingrid three times since the night we almost kissed.

I know it’s wrong. I know that’s not the way you’re supposed to think about your friends.

But part of me doesn’t care. When I fantasize about Ingrid, I come harder and faster than I ever have.

“Richards!” Porter hollers, pulling me out of my thoughts. My boner instantly shrivels at the sound of his scolding tone.

“Yeah, Coach?” I brace myself for him to chew me out.

“Good work out there today. Way to hustle,” he says in his trademark curt tone.

“Thanks.”

He glances around at the rest of the team. “That’s the kind of effort I want to see out of all of you. I don’t want to see any of the laziness I saw at the start of practice,” he says. “Playoffs are just around the corner. No showing up late to practice, no half-assingit on the ice. I want two hundred percent out of all of you from this moment on. Understood?”

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