Page 82 of Puck Yes

I answer with deeds, licking a long stripe up his friend’s shaft, then swirling my tongue over the head as Stefan watches. “I like your cock,” I tell Stefan, then give another kiss to the crown of Hayes’s dick, but I keep my eyes on Stefan as I add, “And I like your teammate’s cock.”

Hayes groans, helpless to my mouth.

“Then finish off the new guy, Ivy,” Stefan commands as he downs his kale smoothie while I take Hayes’s cock to the back of my throat and suck him like I mean it.

With a grunt and a feral groan, he comes, and I take it all.

Then, I stand. I may have crawled, but every second I was on the floor I had all the control in my hands.

“I need to shower,” I say and head for the bathroom. A few minutes later, Hayes is under the rainfall shower with me. “I need to take care of you,” he says, sounding desperate.

“If you insist.”

“I really fucking do,” he says, then he spins me around so I’m facing the wall. From behind, he kneads and strokes my breasts, then bites down on my shoulder. He slides a hand to my stomach then lower so he can stroke my eager clit. Soon, I’m shaking and trembling, chasing another high then flying off the cliff.

When my breathing slows, he turns me back around, then drizzles bodywash on me. As he cleans me up, he segues easily from sex to asking about my day. I tell him about the meeting then ask what he has planned.

“Lunch with my granddads,” he says while he washes my hair.

“Bet you’re looking forward to that.”

“A lot.” He kisses my neck, softer than usual. “You’d like them.”

I hear what’s unsaid—I want you to meet them.

And I’d like that too.

* * *

As I’m getting dressed, Hayes waggles his phone at me, looking Machiavellian. “See how much I pretended you never told me about the socks and sandals?”

Intrigued, I tug up the zipper on my pants and peer at the screen. It’s a text thread between Hayes and his granddads. My heart squeezes as he scrolls past a handful of prior messages about stars and constellations, about what Hayes can see in the San Francisco sky from his rooftop, about how beautifully inky black the night is. It’s like he’s showing me a piece of himself without having to say as much, and I appreciate the subtle gesture.

He slows the pace of his scroll, stopping at the most recent messages, including a photo of, as promised, a nattily dressed older man and a super-casual one, standing on a beach.

Hayes: That picture hurts my eyes. Why are you wearing socks with sandals?

Ryan: You’re saying I can’t wear them? That’s info that would have been helpful before our vacation!

Bryan: I’ve been telling you for years. You don’t listen to me.

Ryan: Sorry, did you say something?

Hayes: Dudes, I just heard on social that this trend is now officially over. Just wanted you to know.

Ryan: YOU SIT ON A THRONE OF LIES. See you at lunch.

“You tried, at least,” I say, patting his shoulder. “Since he saw through it, maybe at least get him some cute socks. Like, with drawings of llamas on them. That’s better than plain white ones.”

He snaps his fingers. “Yes! That’s perfect.”

A little later, with Roxy by my side, I head to the door, having been thoroughly fucked by two men, when my phone pings with a text from Simone.

Oooh. What if she’s canceling the meeting? I kind of hope she is. But I also don’t want her to cancel it, since I need to cover her wedding. I slide the message open, a little apprehensive, then read her note.

I curl my lips. “Ugh. She’s bringing Xander.”

Hayes takes a sip of his coffee, then looks me up and down approvingly. “And you’re walking into that meeting having been fucked so much better than he could ever do.”

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