Page 23 of Puck Right Off

“Oh, really? Lemme just find a puck girl to blow me in front of voyeur?—”

“Stop.” A burst of laughter rolls out of me as I shake my head. “The two of you are crazy. It’s like being at a comedy show.”

Alex grins proudly, puffing out his chest like he’s a superhero. “It’s a gift.”

Tristan snorts. “Nothing about you is a gift.”

“I beg to differ. You’ve seen my dick.”

Tristan rolls his eyes. “Everyone on the team has seen it. You parade it around like you just took Viagra and are experiencing the four-hour erection side effect.”

I’m howling with laughter at this point. Without thinking, I look up at Tristan and blurt out, “I’m surprised you don’t walk around with yours hanging out. I’ve never seen one that big—” I cut myself off, my cheeks burning from embarrassment, as both guys stare at me, smirking.

I immediately begin backtracking. “It’s not like I’ve thought about it since I saw it. Not that I really saw it…”Oh, God. Shut up.

“Sure you haven’t, voyeur,” Alex smirks at me before looking at Tristan. “I think she wants you to walk around naked so she can see it again.”

Oh God. This is humiliating.

Luckily, I’m saved by the aroma of coffee waftingfrom the coffee shop as a group of students walk out. One holds the door while the rest greet the guys like they are superstars.

When they finally move away from us, Alex bounds up the steps, slapping hands with the guy holding the door. I dare to peek through my lashes at Tristan, who is looking down at me with a smug smile on his face. “I’ll show you my dick anytime you want, kitten,” he whispers.

I turn away, not saying a word as I hurry up the steps where Alex is waiting just inside the coffee shop. As I pass by him, he murmurs, “I don’t know what Tristan said, but your face is fucking priceless.”

Can the floor open and swallow me, please?

CHAPTER 13

Jordyn

I’m sweaty, and my muscles ache in a good way from the pole dancing class I just finished at the recreation center. Walking to my car, I slip inside, turn the key, and blast the air conditioning. Grabbing my phone, I pull up a playlist, driving home to the beat of a Dua Lipa song.

Arriving home, I’m relieved that neither Josh nor Tristan’s vehicles are in the driveway. I don’t want questions about my whereabouts and the resulting lies I’ll have to make up. There’s no way in hell I want to confess I’m taking classes at the rec center, training for my new weekend job at Sinful Sirens.

I worked last Saturday when Tristan pulled his disappearing act. I lied to Josh, telling him I was going to visit a high school friend. Instead, I drove forty-five minutes to another town where I moonlighted as an exotic dancer for money.

A long sigh comes out of me. I started dancing in New York in July as a means of staying in New York. Although I was making good money, it wasn’t nearly enough to cover the $57,000 tuition at Cornell. Everything in New York wasexpensive and consumed a chunk of my money. The rest I used for books, fees, and a meal plan at Weston Heights.

Ray Carbaugh, the owner of Sinful Sirens, gave me a trial and hired me on the spot, asking me to work that night. Desperate for money, I readily agreed. Like the club I worked for in New York, Sinful Sirens is an upscale gentleman’s club, so dancers don’t strip completely.

Raven Starling, a dancer working at Sinful Sirens for three years to pay for nursing school, was in the dressing room backstage when I walked in. She eased my nerves with her infectious smile, and the pep talk she gave me was like a balm to my frayed nerves.

Once the music started, I lost myself in it, stripping off the skimpy dress to reveal the sexy bra and panties I had the foresight to put on before heading there.

I made good money that night, so it was worth it.

As I wearily climb the steps to the front door, a wry smile curls my lips.Who would believe that a nerdy girl who loves books and wants to be a university librarian is stripping on the weekends?

Once inside the house, I wearily climb the steps and head to my room. Tossing my bag onto the floor, I immediately turn around and head to the bathroom. The massaging shower head is screaming my name right now.

Once inside, I shut the door and move to the shower. Turning the handle, I adjust the water temperature, then peel the sweaty clothing from my body, dropping them onto the floor.

Stepping beneath the warm spray, I close the shower door, relishing the feel of the water beating against my fatigued muscles. A moan comes from my lips at the sensation.God, this is amazing.

I duck my head beneath the spray, tilting it back to get it wet so I can shampoo it. Grabbing my favorite shampoo, Ilather it up, washing away the stress I’ve been under. After thoroughly rinsing, I apply conditioner, letting it soak in while I wash.

My mind goes to my conversation with Tristan and Alex yesterday and the embarrassing shit I said about Tristan’s dick. I groan, humiliation washing over me as I lather up my skin with my favorite strawberry-scented body wash.God, why did I say that?Just because he has the longest, thickest cock I’ve ever seen doesn’t mean I need to make a damn fool of myself in front of him and his friend.

---