Page 109 of Triple Pucked
I nod; my chest tightens at the memory. “It was after the last game of my first season. We won, and I scored the winning goal. I wanted to go out and celebrate. The team didn’t invite me with them, but I took a job with an agency to earn the money to go for a curry and beer with Dee. Some rich bloke was holding a private party in a room like this. The agency liked to employ pretty college girls and boys for jobs like that. The dad was embarrassed when he saw me dressed up in a server’s outfit, ready to serve champagne, and recognized me as his son’s teammate.”
Robyn pales. “It was the team’s victory party…?”
I look away. “Sucks, right?”
“Did you leave?”
I stare at her.
Sometimes I forget that she’s never experienced what it’s like to have no money. What it’s like to not know whether you’ll be able to eat the next day. What it’s like to make choices between school books and replacing clothes that are falling apart.
“It was my job, love,” I explain, gently. “If I’d just walked out, then the agency wouldn’t have given me more work. Plus, I’d promised my brother that we would go out to celebrate and I never break promises to Dee. The dad tried to make awkward small talk with me, praising my goals. The rest of the team got pissed and spent the entire night pretending that they didn’t know me, while ordering me around.” I feel sick at the memory. “Afterward, the Dad took me aside and apologized. He tried to stuff a fifty pound into my hand like money made up for his son’s behavior.”
“Did you take it?”
I give a crooked smile. “Of course I did, love. It paid for my meal out with my brother.”
Robyn truly has no idea what I would endure…what Ihaveendured…for the people I love.
For something as simple as food.
Robyn wrings her hands together. “No one expects you to do anything that you don’t want to do anymore. You get that, right? There are no strings attached to this new life.”
“I know.”
Except, is that ever true?
Robyn strolls to the snooker table.
“I should have guessed that D’Angelo would have somewhere like this to come with his friends. Can’t you just imagine them standing around here with their whiskeys? Actually…” She turns to the snooker table, running her hand over the blue baize. “I can imagine something more wicked like D’Angelo bending someone naughty over here, while dressed in his riding outfit like a Victorian gentleman, and using his riding crop on them.”
My cock instantly hardens.
Robyn leans over the table, as if she’s imagining herself in the position of the naughty servant waiting for the kiss of D’Angelo’s crop.
I can’t help but palm my crotch to relieve the pressure.
“You’re killing me here.” My head falls back. “I would love to feel what that would be like. I’d also love to watch you just like you are now, wet and writhing with pleasure, while D’Angelo…”
I break off, forcing myself not to finish the thoughtand myself in my pants.
How can Robyn do this to me so easily?
She grins mischievously, resting back against the table. “Do you want to play a game?”
I arch my brow, my natural competitiveness flaring. “You’re on.”
I stride to the wall, lifting off the two wooden snooker cues.
I wince, when I swing them around and they slam against the arcade machine. “Whoops, they’re longer than I thought. No wonder gangsters in London, or movie ones at least, use these as weapons.”
“I’m guessing that you haven’t played before.” Robyn grabs the black ball, positioning it in front of the back pocket. “Unless you’re hustling me.”
“I have a feeling thatyou’rethe one who is hustlingme.” I clutch the cues, walking back to the table. “I haven’t played snooker or pool before, unless you count watching the legend Ronnie O’Sullivan play because then, I’ve seen the best player on TV. Does that count?”
“Nope, or I’d also be incredible on skates, since I’ve been watching the best ice hockey players since I was a kid, when in fact I facepalm the moment that I’m on the ice.”
“So,” I pass her one of the cues, “can you play?”
