Page 64 of Zero Pucks

Pulling back, he let me go, raining kisses over my limbs before moving up my body. I lifted my legs, squeezing the ends around his hips as he nosed against my jaw, then buried his face in my neck as he let me take all of his weight.

“Whoever told you that you were bad at that should be literally tied to a stake and covered in honey for the flies to eat.”

“That…is certainly a visual I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life,” he said through a laugh.

Tugging lightly on his hair, I waited for him to pull back and look at me. “I mean it,” I said when I had his full attention. “I’m not blowing smoke up your ass, Deo. That was the best I have ever had. And I’ve had a lot.”

His cheeks went mottled and dark, making the few moles he had on his skin stand out. I cupped his jaw and rubbed my thumb over his lush, slightly puffy lips.

“I need about fifteen minutes, and then I’m going to make you feel so fucking good.”

“You don’t?—”

“So fucking good,” I said, cutting him off. “So goddamn good you’ll forget what anyone before me was like.”

He smiled softly, buried his head against my chest, and went boneless.

And dear God, who knew I could like this so much too.

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

AMEDEO

Tucker hadn’t promisedto make me see God or anything like that, but he came close anyway. Sparks flared to life in the edges of my vision as he spread me out and ate my ass like it was his job. I was a stammering mess with no words, only noise, as I begged him to make me come.

And he did.

Eventually.

He drew it out until I felt like I was losing my mind, and then he plunged two fingers into my ass, got a hand around my dick, fucked me with an off-beat rhythm that shouldn’t have worked, but dearGod, it did.

I cried out, feeling nearly feral as my orgasm was ripped out of me.

My entire body shook as I came down, and he kissed along my spine, tracing nonsense shapes over my ribs as I fought to regain control of my senses.

Touch came back first. The hysterical numbness of too much pleasure began to wane, and I got lost in the calluses on his hands as they coasted over my skin.

My hearing was next. His breathing was soft and even, and he was humming something in his low baritone as he stroked over my body.

My vision was the last of the lost senses, the room slowly coming back into view as I blinked across the bed. I was facing the window, and it took me a long moment to realize why nothing was familiar.

This wasn’t his home, but it wasn’t mine either.

Something about that felt apropos—a sort of space away from each of our chaotic lives to be together. But I wanted more. I wantedthisto be more.

Rolling onto my side, I glanced up at him, and he smiled down at me. The pale half-blue eye was shining, focused harder than it normally was. His prosthetic eye almost made it look like he was making direct eye contact.

I reached up and touched the scar on his face. “Did you choose the color, or did they match you from before you lost your eye?”

His mouth twitched into a surprised smile.

“Sorry. Is it…is it taboo to ask?”

“No.” He touched the tip of my nose with his finger. “Most people are scared to ask. Like I haven’t lived like this since I was nineteen and I’m still horribly traumatized. I blame crappy made-for-TV movies.” He took a breath. “I have a bunch of different eyes, actually. I have one that’s a hockey puck and one that’s the team mascot—it’s a wolf,” he said, like he forgot I was at the game. “I have one that glows in the dark.”

“Freaky.”

He laughed. “Yeah. Halloween. I also have a few eye patches for when I decide not to wear it.”

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