Page 148 of Pucking Around

“Say it,” I tease, slinging a leg over his hip as I press myself against him, leaning up for a kiss.

“Oon sun, Rakas,” he murmurs, his mouth brushing against mine.

“Damn straight,” I reply, pushing on his shoulder as I roll on top of him, straddling him. “Now, get your fine Finnish ass in that shower. I’m not done with you yet.”

67

“Oh, yeah,” I grunt, tipping my head back, eyes closed. “Yeah, right there. Feels so fuckin’ good. Don’t stop—”

Caleb lifts the massager wand away from my calf and clicks it off. “Dude, you have to stop.”

I blink my eyes open, glancing down the length of my body to where Cay is sitting, my legs propped in his lap on a pillow. Sy is curled up on his other side, watching us.

I just got back from a brutal early morning workout, and Caleb agreed to use the wand on my legs. Of course, I had to bribe him first. And Caleb Sanford isn’t cheap. I’m making a home-cooked steak dinner tonight and doing his laundry for a week. But it’s worth it.

Wasworth it. Now he’s stopped, and I’m about to threaten that I won’t make my world-famous Cajun rub grilled shrimp skewers.

“What the hell?” I whine.

“You were making sex noises,” he replies, glaring at me. “Shut up while I do this, or I’ll make that mouth earn it’s moans.”

I bottle up quick, eyes wide.

We haven’t discussed it since, you know,ithappened. The dick sucking. That night was fucking amazing. By the time we all stumbled into my shower at 3:00am, we could all barely stand. I was so tired the next morning, I slept through my alarm and missed strength and conditioning. Totally worth it.

Rachel is perfect for me. For us. Theusbeing me and Caleb. Because the scary truth is that I think there is anus. The guys have always teased us about it, and Caleb has always just shrugged it off. He never lets the chirping get to him, even when he played.

DLP is a label that used to haunt me. When my last team first teased me with it, I wanted to prove how not gay I was. I screwed bunnies left and right. I made some stupid choices in the name of my bullshit no-homo agenda. I know I hurt some girls. And now the truth is clear to me: I hurt Cay too.

I was the first one he technically came out to, and I threw myself into being his supportive straight friend. I cut the toxic crap and backed him one hundred percent. I even bought an ‘I’m an Ally’ rainbow heart sticker for the water bottle I take to the gym. The other guys can laugh, but I’m gonna be on the right side of history.

More importantly, I want to be on the right side of my friendship with Cay. He’s never asked me for anything. Never really mentions it at all. He’s not the type of guy who dates. For the last few years, I think he’s survived solely on super-secret hookups.

Enter Rachel.

She’s twisted us both up and now we’re inside out and upside down. A few months ago, my life was so easy. I had everything planned out: career, marry a hot wife, kids, retire and coach. It’s the playbook for so many guys. It’s comfortable. Pro athletes like routine.

Now I’m sitting here with my legs in Caleb’s lap, waiting for Rachel to get home. Because we live together. The three of us. And we fuck like gods. Thethreeof us. And this isnotwhat I had in mind for my short list of totally obtainable life goals. It feels like I went to Seattle to meet Amy, met Rachel instead, and then she promptly snatched my Etch-a-Sketch from my hand and shook it all to hell.

Apparently, I’m making a new list of life goals: play professional hockey, bind my soul to Rachel Price, mouth-fuck my best friend and love it, and convert my house into a four-person sex den, marriage and kids optional.

Who am I, and what have I done with Jake Compton?

Rachel is on her way home right now. With Mars Kinnunen. Apparently, they worked out their drama last night. We didn’t get all the details of the surprise daddy reveal, but I know this much: they fucked. Caleb and I expected it. We sorta told her to do it. But it still hits different knowing it happened.

“Hey,” Caleb mutters, his dark gaze locked on me, reading my every thought. “You good?”

Am I good? I can’t quite tell. I feel like I swallowed a pin ball, and now it’s just trapped inside me, pinging around. I want her back. I feel unsettled with her gone. I just want her to walk through that door and hope that this weight on my chest lifts away.

“Think she’ll actually get him in the door?” Caleb muses.

I shrug. “She got you on your knees. I bet she can handle one broody Finn.”

“My guess is he did most of the handling last night.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Shut up and massage my legs, or I’m giving your shrimp skewers to Poseidon.”

He smirks, clicking the massager back on. The rounded head pulses as he presses it to my leg and I sink back against the cushions of the sofa, letting my DLP take care of me.

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