Page 63 of The Puck Player

“I would never do such a thing,” I tease, and she uses said elbow to deliver a sharp blow to my ribs.

“I mean it, Alexander, don’t mess with me, not when I am seconds away from meeting British royalty,” she seethes, her attitude once again making my dick flare to life.

“I know I’m your Prince Charming, but you know we don’t have any actual royal blood, right?” I reply, shuffling us inside the elevator and putting in my private code to the top floor, before pulling her against me by the waist.

“You might not, Satan's Spawn, but Sinclair Striker is the only queen I recognize.”

“Sinclair Reign,” I correct, making her roll her eyes again. “And if she’s your queen, what does that make me?” I ask, whispering in her ear, and her eyes meet mine in the elevator mirror.

“My worst nightmare?” she replies sweetly with her perfect smile, and I tip my head back and groan, flexing my hands around her hips.

“Fuck, love, stop talking to me like that or my parents are going to know exactly how much I fucking like you,” I toss back, pressing my now hardening cock into her, and then following her blush where it starts at her chest and rushes up to her neck and cheeks.

Today’s outfit is a light purple blouse, with little flowers on it that ties together in the center, concealing her perfect fucking tits, and she has styled it with a pair of soft blue jeans that cling to every one of her curves. She looks just as perfect as she usually does, and I know the second we reach the top I am going to be fighting with my own mother for her attention.

“Alexander,” she curses my name in warning, and I tighten my hold on her once more.

“I love it when you say my name,” I tell her truthfully, turning her tension into a soft smile, just as we reach the top floor, before I lean in and add in a whisper, “I love it even more when you moan it.”

Before she can respond, the doors fly open and we are stepping right into the foyer of the penthouse. It’s been a few months since I’ve been here, but it’s just as pristine as always,and I’m looking forward to spending some time with not just Aubree, but my parents too.

“They’re here,” I hear my mother’s excited tone from down the hall, before she appears, looking just as elegant as always, as she strides toward us as if still working the catwalk. “Oh, Sweetheart,” she greets me, opening her arms, and I have no choice but to step into her embrace, leaving Aubree’s side as my mother hugs me, before she pulls back and gives me a quick once over. “I swear you get bigger every time I see you.”

“Mum, we both know I haven’t grown since freshman year,” I reply with a laugh, taking a step back beside Aubree, which is where my mother’s gaze now moves. “Mother, allow me to officially introduce Aubree Callows.” I place an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to my mother, and I can practically feel the nerves lining her body. “Aubree, meet my mother, Sinclair Reign.”

Aubree opens her mouth to say something, but my mother is there in an instant, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug and no doubt checking she is actually real. “Oh my goodness, Aubree, it’s so good to finally meet you,” she preens, pulling back and cupping one of her cheeks. “And look at you, so beautiful. I mean, Alexander said you were even prettier in person, but oh my, you really are stunning,” she gushes, looking between us both, no doubt imagining what her future grandchildren are going to look like, as she adds, “Alexander, isn’t she stunning?”

“Yes, Mother, she is very stunning,” I reply, enjoying the deep shade of maroon now stained on Aubree’s cheeks, as I toss her a wink.

“I cannot tell you how glad I am to meet you, Mrs. Reign,” Aubree finally says, looking beyond starstruck in her presence, and I know she truly means it. She’s told me a few times now about how often she and her mother used to watch my mum’sshows, and I only wish her mum was still here to enjoy this moment with her.

“Oh, now, none of that,” my mother starts, putting her arm around her and stealing her away from me. “It’s Sinclair to you, my dear, Mrs. Reign is my mother-in-law,” she states firmly, leading her to the kitchen, and all I can do is trail behind them until we reach the large open space. “And this is my husband, Parker.” She gestures to my father as we enter, who is side by side with Glinda, our housekeeper.

My dad quickly wipes his hands and rounds the large marble island to greet us. “Miss Callows, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I heard a lot about you from my wife and son,” my dad tells her, offering his hand for her to shake, and she does.

“I’ve heard a lot about you too, Sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she smiles, much more relaxed toward him than my mother, which only makes me smirk. Only she could be more intimidated by my sweet angel of a mother.

“Son, good to have you home,” my father adds, turning to me and I also shake his outstretched hand and then pull him in for a hug.

“It’s good to be home, Dad,” I say by way of greeting, patting his back, before turning my focus to Glinda. “And there she is, the Wicked Witch,” I tease, moving toward her, and she whips me with a towel.

“Don’t start sassing me, boy, or I’ll get your mom to get the baby pictures out,” she warns, before pulling me in for a warm hug.

“Go for it, I was a beautiful baby,” I shrug, turning my gaze back to Aubree, who is watching us closely. “Aubree, this is the woman who keeps us all in order,” I start, and my mother and father both laugh in agreement, taking a seat at the island. “Glinda, this is my girl, Aubree.”

Our housekeeper smiles warmly at her. “Your girl, huh? Does she know that?” she jokes, moving around to greet her with a hug, which Aubree gratefully accepts with a smile. “Alexander said we had to have mac and cheese for lunch today,” she adds when she pulls back, and Aubree’s eyes snap to mine.

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that,” she starts, but Glinda is already cutting her off.

“Oh my sweet child, I’m sure you know by now that the boy never takes the word no kindly,” she winks, moving back around the counter to finish what she was doing, and I lead Aubree to one of the free stools.

“Glinda, you’re making me sound like a predator,” I tease lightly, and our housekeeper only rolls her eyes at me like she usually does.

“A pain in my ass more like,” she grumbles playfully, and Aubree snorts a laugh.

“And mine,” my mother agrees, toasting her glass of champagne in the air, and I give them both my best death glare, as I take a seat beside my girl.

“I hate you all,” I declare, and am then delighted when Aubree gently places her hand on my arm.

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