Page 47 of Dirty Pucker

I wonder if he can feel my eyes boring through the back of his head.

I’ve been staring at him nonstop ever since I spotted him ahead of me a few minutes ago. Because he looks hot as hell in that suit.

I recently learned that hockey players wear suits when they travel for games. Initially, I thought that was so random.

But now I am one hundred percent on board with it. Because damn, is it hot to see a fit athlete wearing a suit.

Especially Del.

He looks like a Hugo Boss model in that charcoal gray suit he’s wearing. It’s tailored to fit his tall, broad, muscled frame perfectly.

Like a creep, I stare at him as he lifts his carry-on bag and slides it into the overhead compartment. Even through his suit jacket, I can see his muscles. They pulse and ripple through the thick fabric as he stretches and flexes his arms.

Drool pools in my mouth as I gawk at him.

When he finishes loading his bag, he runs a hand through his thick, coffee-brown hair. It flops in every direction, making him look deliciously disheveled and put together all at once.

He glances in my direction and I quickly look down, pretending to be super interested in the strap of my bag.

We haven’t spoken since we fell on top of each other while we were half-naked in the steam room and kissed.

Technically, it was barely a kiss. Our lips touched, but only for about two seconds, and our mouths didn’t even move.

That doesn’t make that moment any less hot, though.

My brain slingshots back to that moment, when I fell onto Del’s hard lap. His skin felt hot underneath me. I think about the look in his eyes, how his pupils were blown out and dazed as he gazed at me.

I blink and the image of his flawless body pops into my head. That man looks like he was carved from marble. His torso is a shelf of muscle: perfectly sculpted shoulders and biceps and pecs and a six-pack that mortal humans would die for…

And his dick…

I almost choke when I think about Del’s cock.

It wasimpressive.Not just big, but thick. And pretty.

The second my gaze landed on his perfect cock, my mouth watered. I wanted to drop to my knees and suck him, then ride him.

And if Theo hadn’t interrupted us, that’s exactly what I would have done.

My clit pulses at the thought of taking Del’s massive dick.

I’ve been fantasizing about it nonstop since that night…

How I’d sink onto his hard dick slowly at first, so I could get used to his size…how his voice would get all rough and low as he coaxed me through it…how, when I’d take his entire cock in my pussy, he’d give me that sexy-as-sin half-smile and rasp, “good girl…”

Just then I feel someone tap on my shoulder. I twist my head to look to the side and see the flight attendant looking at me expectantly.

“Miss, could you please keep moving forward in the aisle?”

And that’s when I realize the aisle ahead of me is clear and I’ve been holding up the line behind me while replaying this filthy fantasy about Del inside my brain.

I apologize and walk forward, stopping to shove my bag in the first empty overhead compartment I spot.

God, I’m such a deviant—and not just for my dirty little fantasy a second ago.

I’ve been playing with myself every night as I replay that imagined hookup with Del.

Shame engulfs me from the inside out and my cheeks heat.

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