PUCK (A BAD BOY HOCKEY ROMANCE) (13 page)

J
AYSON

I
’ve seen
her type a thousand times. Tight, fit body and legs for days. She wanted guys to look at her but I can tell by her stance she isn’t looking for a hook-up. That doesn’t mean I won’t try.

I’ve never had a problem meeting women, or more importantly, screwing them. Sometimes they can’t resist long enough to even make it back to my place. Those are the easy ones. The one I have my eye on now, though—she looks like a challenge.

I love long hair and have a thing for brunettes. She has perfect dark curls hanging over her breasts, forcing me to notice how heavy and round they are. I see her glance over and notice me looking at her, but I don’t stop staring. I like having the upper hand and I know how to make a woman squirm before I even get her to the bedroom.

She’s holding her straw in her mouth and her lips look so tasty wrapped around it. I bet they’d feel like heaven around my cock.

She holds my gaze and I work my eyes up her long legs to the bottom of her skirt. It would be so easy to tear her panties off and fuck her right there. I’m pretty sure that’s what short skirts are made for.

I start walking over, feeling my pants get a little tighter as I imagine her legs wrapped around me while I tease her with the tip of my cock, making her beg for it like they all eventually do. I can tell she’s going to play hard to get, but I see her sizing me up and by the look in her eye, I know she thinks I’m hot.

And why wouldn’t she?

I decide to cut to the chase. I make sure to breathe a little heavy against her neck as I speak softly into her ear. “You have gorgeous legs. I can’t wait to have them wrapped around my neck later.”

The look on her face is priceless, which is what I was going for. I see her fumble with the straw she’s holding in her mouth and I laugh to myself, knowing I’ve taken her off guard. So far, so good.

She doesn’t tell me to fuck off, which is another good sign. She mentions her boyfriend, but I’m not sure if that’s true or just a way to try and brush me off. Doesn’t matter—I’ve had plenty of taken women. She won’t be the first, or the last.

I catch her looking at someone and glance over to see if it’s the boyfriend she mentioned. It’s much worse than that—it’s her friend, who has a look on her face like she’s ready for war. Everything about her screams “cock-blocker.” I can tell by her walk and the determined line of her jaw that she’s ready to protect her friend from the evil player.

But like you may have guessed by now, I’m always up for a challenge.

After a few comebacks and brush offs, I can tell I’m not going to get anywhere. Her body is an open book. The way her cheeks flush red when I look at her. The way her legs part ever so slightly. She’s definitely into me, and I’m dying for a taste, but tonight’s not my night. Cock-block McGee is dead-set on pulling her out of my reach.

I make sure to look her in her eyes when I say goodnight and I feel the heat pass between us when our hands touch. The way she trembles tells me I could make her cum effortlessly, and I would love to do it to her over and over. I wanna see her go crazy. My mouth gets dry just imagining the little glint of madness in her eyes when I push her past the brink of coherent thought. But that’s all a fantasy, ‘cause she’s letting her friend shoo me away now.

Her loss.

I walk away, knowing I’ll go home with someone else tonight, which is enough to satisfy me for the time being. Still, part of me knows that it would be different with her—that if I could find a way to get her into my bed, I might finally be satisfied.

That’s the part of me that still throbs long after I’ve got my dick wet and found my release—the part of me that demands more, more, more. The part of me that demands I find
her
again.

Next time, I won’t give up so easy.

A
SHLEY

I
t takes
me a little while to wake Michael up and arouse him, but never let it be said that I don’t know how to rise to a challenge. I’m already hot and wet and dying for my boyfriend’s touch, but when I close my eyes and start to kiss him, all I can picture is Jayson’s face.

I reach down and feel Michael’s hard cock throbbing. He’s ready for me. I know it. So why the hell am I still thinking about the guy from the bar, who means nothing at all to me?

I slide off my panties and climb on top of Michael as he languidly caresses me in his half-asleep state. When I straddle his hips and ease down onto his manhood, he moans and tilts his head back like he’s in heaven.

That’s what I should want. A guy who appreciates me. Who treats me like a goddess and worships at my feet.

But when I close my eyes again, I still can’t help but picture Jayson. Why can’t I get him out of my mind? He’s just like every other player that thought they could take me home.

And yet there’s just something about him I can’t shake. Not that any of that matters—we’re just two ships that passed in the night. I’ll never see him again.

And I have a boyfriend. Who I’m riding. So why can’t I focus on him?

It’s not like there’s a shortage of things for me to focus on. Like the familiar sensation of his cock inside me, or the way he moans softly and sleepily as we reach climax together. It doesn’t take long. I was ready when I left the bar and I know how to work him. I have my hands on his shoulders and again found myself wishing they were the tanned, broad shoulders I had seen earlier, wondering again where that arm tattoo would lead me.

My body shudders and Michael spasms, smiling and kissing me before turning over and drifting back to sleep. I get up and go to the bathroom to wash off my makeup and get ready for bed.

I use Michael’s toothbrush to brush my teeth. I don’t have anything of my own here, so I have to make due. I throw on one of his t-shirts and climb into bed and toss and turn trying to fall asleep—I keep picturing Jayson in my mind. Then I remember the way he’d looked at that blonde I left him with and I’m disgusted, but oddly, I’m also jealous.

At some point, I finally doze off next to Michael who I’m not even sure realizes I’m actually here.

I
’m exhausted
as I walk mindlessly around Michael’s small kitchen, brewing a pot of coffee. I hear Michael brushing his teeth and smile as I think about him. We may have only been together for a few months, but I’m enjoying the routine.

I always thought being with a “normal” guy would get boring after a while, but even with our mundane habits and the lack of excitement, I believe everything is going great. I give Michael a smile as he walks into the kitchen and turn to grab his cup of coffee. As I hand it to him, I ask “Are you ready for your big presentation?”

“What? Oh, yeah,” he replies, then quickly looks away.

I’m almost sure he’s not telling me the truth, but I let it go. I’m used to being lied to, but Michael’s not that kind of guy. I have to start heading home and get ready for my shift, anyway.

“Well, good luck. I’m working until tonight and lunch again tomorrow, but I’ll see you tomorrow night,” I say. I have a dinner party to go to at my mother’s house to meet her boyfriend that she has been talking about for months. She’s sure he’s “the one” and is ready for my brother and I to meet him.

“What’s tomorrow night?” he asks me, apparently forgetting about this dinner I had talked about many times already. Has he even been listening?

I raise an eyebrow. “Dinner at my mom’s house, remember?”

“Of course. I forgot it was the end of the week already. I wouldn’t miss it,” he answers, taking his mug and leaving the kitchen to finish getting ready.

I take another sip of my coffee and lean against the counter. Maybe our relationship isn’t as great as I thought. I look down at myself. I’m wearing nothing but Michael’s old t-shirt. It’s been a few months already and I don’t even have a change of clothes here.

I finish what’s left of my coffee and put the mug in the sink. I walk into the bedroom where Michael is knotting his tie in the mirror. I pull his t-shirt off and grab my top and mini skirt from the night before. As I bend over, he smacks me on the ass.

“Thanks for coming by last night. You haven’t made a booty call in a while. It was a nice change.”

I see a flash of Jayson’s face and immediately feel bad.
Why am I thinking of him again?

“Of course. I was thinking about you all night. I couldn’t wait to see you,” I lie.

I mean, it wasn’t really a lie. I could have easily had my way with Jayson—or any other man in the bar, for that matter—but instead I chose Michael. I think I’m in love with him. We haven’t said it yet or made it official, but I care for him a lot and we do have fun together, no matter how simple or monotonous our relationship has become.

I finish dressing just as he does and grab my purse off the nightstand. I look like a whore leaving his apartment dressed in my clothes from the night before, but I guess I don’t have a choice. We walk out together and gently kiss on the lips in front of the building.

“Have a great day,” he says, smiling at me.

“Talk to you later,” I reply, and without another word, he hails a cab and heads out.

I start walking back home to my apartment. It’s not too far and it’s a beautiful morning out. Considering I’m in heels, it may not be the best idea, but I had a pleasant night and wouldn’t mind some time alone in the sun with my thoughts. Of course I’m getting some judgmental glares on my way home, but I don’t care. I don’t know any of these people and what I do is none of their business.

I pull my cell phone from my purse and dial Rachel’s number. She doesn’t answer and I realize she’s probably already on her way to work. I leave her a message and let her know I’m working a double, if she wants to stop in for dinner or drinks and keep me company.

I reach my building and wave to the doorman as I make my way to the elevator. I wait and smile at one of my neighbors as she looks me up and down on her way out. Fuck her—even with her snotty look, I know she’s jealous. We both know who got some last night, and it sure wasn’t her. I press the button and ride the elevator up to the twenty-first floor.

As I amble around my apartment getting ready for work, I can’t help but think of Jayson again. We barely spent five minutes together, yet I can’t get him off my mind. God, he was so sexy and instantly got me hot without even touching me. I can only imagine what would happen if he actually got his hands on me.

I replay our brief conversation in my head. He definitely had some balls using a line like that on me. There are lots of women who would have slapped him for saying something like that, but to my surprise, I’m not one of them.

I hate players. But I can’t get Jayson out of my mind. What the hell is wrong with me?

As much as I hate wearing a uniform, it does make getting dressed for work pretty easy—black pants, tight black tee, and when I get to there, I’ll add the black apron. I don’t mind my job, but I can’t wait to finish school and work in the real world. I’m still not sure what it is I want to do, but I know I don’t want to be wearing a uniform when I do it.

I take one last look in the mirror, grab my purse and keys and head back out for the lunch shift.

J
AYSON

I
wish
I could remember her name, especially since I just fucked her. I would have asked her again at the bar, but I didn’t really care, and by the time I actually went to say it her lips were around my cock, so it would have been rude. I love a good lay and know how to find one, but it would be nice to have to work for it every once in a while. What’s the use of having all these God-given skills when you never get to use them?

She’s sleeping, partly because of the fruity vodka drinks she was sucking down all night and partly because of the screaming orgasms I gave her. I’m going to have to wake her and ask her to leave soon, but I would love to remember her name so I don’t come off like a total dickhead. Angela? Amanda?

It doesn’t take me long to give up wracking my brain for an answer.
Whatever, they’re all the same.

Ashley. Ashley isn’t the same. I only met her just last night, but I sure as hell remember her name. Every fiber of my being wants to make her cum so fucking hard. I can do that to any woman, but I want to do it to her. I want to hear her say my name while she’s trembling and dripping all over my cock with those long, luscious legs wrapped around my waist.

Thinking about her is getting me hard, but I don’t really want to bang this girl again. I had a long night and I don't want to have to talk to her and make things awkward.

I give the blonde a little nudge to try and rouse her. She stirs, but she’s not waking up. I go a little harder this time and her eyes open. She really is beautiful, but she’s got to go.

“Hey, baby. It’s time to go. I have to get ready for work.”

She smiles at me and rolls over. Really, she’s got to go. I don’t feel bad asking her to leave so soon—she was way too easy and eager to be the kind of girl that’s never fucked a guy she just met. No way she didn’t know what she was getting into. I get up out of the bed to get my point across and she looks up at me.

“You still look hot in the daylight. Do you have any coffee?” She yawns, making her way too slowly out of my bed.

“Sorry, I don’t drink coffee,” I lie, “but there’s a deli across the street.”

She bats her eyelashes and asks, “Wanna come with me?” She seems nice for a girl who couldn’t keep her clothes on long enough to get out of the elevator and was barely in a bra by the time she reached my door.

“Can’t, sweetheart. I have to get showered up and hit the road,” I reply.

She gets up and starts looking around for her clothes. As she walks around collecting them, I think of Ashley again. I would have made her coffee—after some amazing morning sex. Dammit. Thinking about her even for a hot minute gives me an instant hard-on. What is it about her that’s getting me so hot?

What’s-her-name is finally putting her slutty heels back on and preparing for our awkward goodbye. She doesn’t bother asking me to call her because by now she realizes I never will. I walk her to the door and we quickly kiss on the lips and smile at each other as she leaves.

“Thanks, Jayson. I had a great time.”

“Me too,” I reply with my sweetest smile as I close the door.
Don’t let the door hit you in the ass,
I think to myself as I go to shower up.

I really enjoy a long, hot shower in the morning. Especially after a night of dirty sex. The girl was beautiful and she knew how to work it, but she was nothing special. None of them are. They give me what I want and I make sure to thank them for it. Once in a while I will actually take a woman out to dinner, but I honestly don’t care enough to get to know them that well. I keep busy with work, and that satisfies me in other ways.

I like to work with my hands and be physical, but I need to use my brain, too. Owning my own construction company gives me the best of both. I can be hands-on at any time and work alongside my men, and other times I can play the businessman role, making deals and decisions. The money is great, too. I really do have everything I need.

I continue to think about the day ahead as I towel off and throw my work clothes on. I will be helping my men lay the footing for a new building going up in Long Island City. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look good. The women I’m with always compliment my body. Even when they’re not interested, I can still see the hungry look in their eyes—like the one Ashley had. She can deny it all she wants, but I could tell she wanted a taste.

I picture her again and find myself hoping to run into her somehow. If I had a little more time, and if her friend wasn’t around, I know I could break her down.