Page 216 of Wrong Pucking Jersey

“No, I’m poking his chest.”

“Nope,” I respond. “Your finger is on his lips, Mishka.”

“Nope! Nah. Nyet!” Our girl is clearly in the combative mood to start saying ‘No’ in every possible variation, including Russian.

Maddox moves back an inch before he opens his mouth and lightly sucks Mikayla’s finger, making us freeze while Mishka stops her defiant tangent. Maddox slowly sucks her finger off, the plop sound only further contributing to how fucking hot that was.

“I can’t speak with your finger in my mouth, Mkaykay,” he teases.

“Oh…” she whispers, her face even redder than before. She leans over further, lying on Maddox like it’s no big deal, before she inches her index finger against his lips again.

“Do that again,” she purrs seductively. “Slower this time.”

God. This is going to become Rated R really quick.

“Maddox? Why don’t you take our girl inside?” Damien offers.

“Wouldn’t be a bad idea,” he admits, yet he leans close enough to not only take Mikayla’s finger into his hot mouth but to trail his tongue along the length of her index finger, their eyes on one another as he moves back until we hear that taunting plop.

“Have to appease my Baby Girl first,” he discloses and reaches over to run his fingers through her red locks. “That good for you, Baby Girl?”

I really believe Mishka lost comprehension function because she’s staring at Maddox with starry eyes.

“Note to self: never let Mishka drink silly and smoke half a joint,” I conclude.

“I really didn’t think she’d have such a slow reaction time,” Damien admits. “Though she did better than Ace.” He gets up from his crossed position to take the joint from Ace, who can barely sit up straight.

“Wait. Why did you steal my hockey stick?” Ace whines.

“I’m really tempted to record this and use it against you, Harvey,” Damien points out as he crouches down next to Ace and takes a long inhale of the blunt. Letting it out, he continues, “Been a while since I’ve had good weed like this, though. You should buy from them more often, Wolfgang.”

“And only give it to Maddox,” I mumble under my breath.

My eyes are on Maddox and Mikayla, the two of them having some sort of silent conversation they both understand because they’re just staring at one another like star-crossed lovers who found each other after centuries.

“You’re supposed to share, DaiDai!” Ace huffs and attempts to grab the blunt but fails and grips Damien’s chin instead.

Damien just sighs while giving him a cocky smirk.

“Now, who said you can call me DaiDai?” he inquires. We haven’t called him that since we were kids. “And you’ve had enough weed for the evening, Ace.”

“No,” he mutters and pulls Damien closer. “And I can call you DaiDai whenever I pucking want.”

“Or you call me something else other than DaiDai,” Damien teases.

“Like what?” Ace huffs with pouted lips.

My eyes widen when Damien closes the distance between them, his lips pressing against Ace’s mouth in a firm kiss.

“Next time you think of trying to order me around, you better call me Daddy,” Damien mutters against his lips. “That way, I can punish you for thinking you can order me around.”

Ace is blinking back at him before his face grows red.

“Wh-Why can Maddox tell you what to do?”

“Because Maddox is the leader of the pack, and he screams Daddy energy. You don’t get the option to question him,” Damien concludes and gestures to the man in question.

He’s far too busy making out with Mikayla, the two of them lip-locked, arms around each other, not caring they’re still outdoors on the picnic blanket.

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