Forever PUCKED (Pucked #4)

by Helena Hunting

  Alex groans. “That visual is burned into my brain for all eternity. You know this means I have to rub one out on my own, right?”

  “I promise me and the beave will take care of you and Super MC tonight after the game, okay?”

  Alex sighs. “Fine. Come by the locker room on your way to your seat, though. I’ll make sure they know you’re coming.”

  “Are you feeling nostalgic? You want to bang me in the locker room again?”

  I’m rewarded with another deep sigh. “Yes, but that’s not why I want you to stop by. I’m getting my kiss before I hit the ice tonight. We need a win, and I need your lips.”

  I shiver at his tone. He’s been intense in bed lately—like, locker room intense.

  “Okay, and after the game you can have them anywhere you want them.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  I peek around the office to make sure no one’s listening and lower my voice. “My beaver’s already drooly.”

  “I fucking love how wet you get for me.”

  “Only for you, Alex.”

  This is a weenie lie. I mean, no one turns me on like Alex, but it really doesn’t take much to make my beaver drool. I’ve always been this way.

  Alex doesn’t need to know that though, and any kind of ego stroke, especially after losing the last two games, is good for his pre-game morale.

  “That’s right. Only for me, baby.”

  “You and Super MC. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

  “Uh-huh. I love you, Violet.”

  He hangs up before I can respond, likely because he’s jacking off.

  -&-

  Just like he asked, I stop by the locker room before settling into my front row seat at center ice, and as he said, the security dudes are expecting me. Of course, they aren’t expecting Charlene, Lily, and Sunny to be tagging along. And neither is Alex.

  Instead of it being him and me, there are suddenly eight of us: four smelly, horny hockey boys—because no matter how much they wash their jerseys and pads, they always smell like the inside of a hockey bag—and four equally horned-up women.

  The potential for a serious mouth fuck is thwarted by the awkwardness of too many witnesses, at least for me, but it doesn’t seem to stop Balls and Lily from trying to get each other off with their clothes on. I settle for a less aggressive, mini mouth fuck with promises of more later, when no one is watching or listening—and Lily isn’t moaning right beside me.

  Buck has to pry Balls off her so he can finish getting ready. He’s all pads and no jersey, and it’s actually pretty entertaining. Even with Buck attached to his back, he won’t leave Lily alone.

  “You really are a Horny Nut Sac, aren’t you?” I ask.

  He grins, possibly at my commentary, but doesn’t look my way at all. Instead he rubs Lily’s bottom lip with his thumb. “What do you say to no sleep tonight, luscious?”

  “Sounds like fun.” She bites his thumb.

  “Which we all know is code for sex. Okay, let’s go, Balls. We have a game to play before you can get her naked.” Buck is only successful because Lily steps back and Sunny shuffles Lily behind her, hiding her from view. That seems to break Randy out of his trance, so they’re able to corral him back into the locker room.

  “Are you two planning to find a bathroom to screw in after the game?” I ask Lily.

  I’m only kind of joking. Lily and Randy seem to have a strange affinity for getting it on in bathrooms, even when there are perfectly good bedrooms available.

  “Depends on whether Randy can wait until we get back to his place tonight.” Lily seems strangely serious.

  We make our way through the stadium to our awesome seats. My mom and Sidney, my stepdad, are already there, talking to a couple. Actually, Sidney’s doing all the talking while my mom and the other woman stare at him. Sidney always knows someone, being a scout and Buck’s dad and all. We settle into our seats and order drinks and snacks.

  The games have become a lot more fun now that we’re all dating these super-hot hockey players and attend them together. I can’t believe I used to read books while they played. Now I can’t take my eyes off the action.

  “I hope they win tonight,” Sunny says from my left, sipping what looks like juice. Along with not eating animals, Sunny doesn’t like beer. Not that one is related to the other in any way.

  Chicago needs a win to get some morale back. They lost against Buffalo when Lance got a five-minute penalty, leaving them down a player in the final period of the game. Buffalo scored not one, but two goals during that time, and Chicago never recovered the lead. They lost the game before that as well, but there wasn’t a penalty to blame it on, just some sloppy playing and chippy behavior.

  Alex has been staying out of the penalty box for the most part, but I can see his frustration on the ice when things aren’t going the way he’d like. It’s tough after taking home the Cup; the expectation of repeating the previous season is unreasonable, but they still want the glory. Making it to the finals last season means they had a shorter off-season and less time to recover, which put them at a disadvantage this season right from the start.

  Add to that a change in team trainer—Tash, who had been training the guys for the past two years, was recently replaced by a guy named Evan Smart—and it’s been a rough season.

  The Chicago crowd goes crazy when the team takes the ice. Women scream the names of the players they want to get naked with. Some girl a few rows back starts bellowing Ballistic’s name. Lily, who’s managed to convert him from a serial player into a one-vagina man, turns to check out the yodeler. She pales and coughs out an expletive, so I turn around to see what’s going on.

  There’s a blond chick dressed in very little, considering we’re in a cold arena surrounded by ice, and she’s holding up a homemade sign. It looks like something I might’ve made in junior high. A selfie of her and Randy, in color, takes up half the posterboard. It’s captioned with: I WANT TO GET BALLED BY BALLISTIC AGAIN!

  I cup my hands and yell, “Nice sign! Super classy!”

  I should probably keep my mouth shut, based on the death stare I get from her, but her reaction fuels my desire to poke her with the proverbial stick—although not the kind she wants to handle.

  “You’re a little too late! This one over here actually owns Balls’ balls now.” It sounded funnier in my head.

  Lily slouches in her seat. Charlene looks back to see who I’m yelling at and elbows me. “What’re you doing?”

  “Being an idiot.”

  The blond hockey hooker gives me the bird and turns her ragey eyes to the back of Lily’s head.

  “What happens when you have to go pee and she follows you to the bathroom and sprays you in the eyes with her glitter body mist?” Charlene asks calmly.

  “You’ll be my bodyguard. Or I’ll get my mom to come along and she can mortify her into leaving me alone.”

  The team skates around the rink, and of course, Alex pauses to tap the glass and wink at me. Darren follows and takes a moment to stop in front of Charlene. He pulls at the front of his jersey. Charlene unravels the scarf around her neck and touches the pearl necklace she’s wearing.

  It’s so weird that that’s their thing. We’ve talked about pearl necklaces before, but I thought it was more of a joke. Maybe it’s not. Maybe Darren really likes to jizz on her throat. The necklace would suggest that. Actually, it’s more of a choker.

  I glance at Darren again in time to see him mouth, Your ass is mine. At least that’s what it looks like he says.

  “Oh my God. You let him in your Area 51?” I shriek. Thankfully, it’s loud enough in the arena that most people can’t hear me.

  Darren skates away, and Charlene turns her attention to me. “What?”

  “Your Area 51! You let Darren near it?”

  Charlene looks confused as she strokes the pearls around her neck. As much as I constantly overshare my sexual exploits with her, she hasn’t been sharing all that much with me, aside from the co
nversations we’ve had about blowies. Obviously she and Darren have sex. Often. I mean, she says they do, and she has no reason to lie.

  “What’s that code for?” she finally asks.

  “What’s what code for?”

  I look over to see Buck skate by and blow Sunny a kiss. Several girls behind her start screaming like they’re having spontaneous, simultaneous orgasms.

  “Calm your tits, ladies!” I yell while pointing at Sunny. “He bones this one on the regular.”

  Sunny looks at me with what seems to be horror, which is appropriate. I’m unable to control my mouth tonight, and I’ve only had a sip of my beer. I’m chalking it up to stress.

  “Miller and I don’t bone. We have sex or make love,” Sunny informs me. “Also, your parents are right here.”

  “Sorry. Make love doesn’t sound nearly as badass when we’re dealing with the bunnies, though.” I thumb over my shoulder at the shrieking whores.

  Sunny nods as though this makes sense. “Sometimes, when he’s really excited and so am I, we have intense sex. It’s my favorite.”

  I have to wonder what intense means for Sunny. I’m not about to ask. She’s such a soft person, so I can’t really see her swinging from the rafters. Lily, on the other hand, I can totally see getting freaky, considering her penchant for public love.

  “And when it’s nice out, Miller loves to have sex outside.” Sunny brushes the end of one of her thin braids across her lips.

  I have to bite my tongue, literally, to prevent myself from saying something about how yetis are notorious for the outdoor sexing. Luckily for Sunny, I’m distracted by Randy when he comes barreling up to the plexiglas barrier.

  He throws himself at it, scaring the people next to Lily and making the blonde behind us go insane. But he’s focused only on Lily. He points to her, says something we can’t hear, and then humps the boards a couple of times before skating away.

  “He’s almost as bad as you,” Charlene says.

  “Right? It’s like we’re twins of inappropriateness or something.” Lily’s still slouched in her seat, now with her hood pulled up.

  I find her embarrassment ironic considering how often Randy drags her into the closest room with a door whenever he’s been away for more than five minutes. That girl’s vagina has to be made of leather for all the dicking she takes.

  But the attention and the media crap does take some getting used to. Before, when she and Randy just used to bone each other in the privacy of a bathroom or a bedroom, Lily didn’t have to deal with the publicity crap. Now they’re official, Randy’s proving to be an incredible player, and he’s getting attention and endorsements, which means he’s higher-profile in the hockey world.

  Lily’s learned quickly that people are always watching, and one heated kiss caught on someone’s camera phone is all it takes for their relationship to go viral. She’s been getting the bunny hate lately. It’s a rite of passage for girlfriends of NHL players.

  “So back to your Area 51,” I say to Charlene as Toronto take the ice.

  “Which is what exactly?”

  I lower my voice. “Your bum.”

  “Bum?”

  “Yeah, bum.”

  “Who even says that?”

  “Alex. It’s a Canadian thing. Like beavers are vaginas, bum is a nicer word for ass. Unless you prefer fudge machine.”

  “Bum it is.” Charlene tips her beer back.

  “So?”

  “So what?”

  “Darren has access to your Area 51?” It’s cold in the arena, so I can’t be sure, because her cheeks are already pink, but she may be blushing. “Charlene?”

  “Did Alex say something?”

  “Why would Alex know about access to your Area 51?”

  The top of her beer is suddenly very interesting. “You know how guys talk.”

  I sure do. But I have a feeling Charlene and I are way worse than Alex and Darren could ever be. Or at least I am. It takes a few seconds for what she’s not saying to really sink in. “Wait a second! That means Darren does have Area 51 access?”

  “Shh!” Charlene smacks my arm and looks around.

  A few people are looking at us, but they don’t know what we’re talking about. I lower my voice, “How does that even work? I mean, isn’t he equipped? How does it even fit?”

  “Skin stretches, Violet.”

  “Not that much.” I put my beer between my knees and wrap my fingers around my wrist to demonstrate.

  “Darren isn’t quite so girthy, but yes, essentially.”

  I gape at her, slack-jawed, because seriously, that’s insane.

  “Honestly, Vi, it’s not that big a deal. I don’t know why you’re so uptight about it.” She snickers and glances around before leaning in and lowering her voice to a whisper, “Hasn’t Alex ever tickled your chocolate starfish?”

  I’m taking a sip of my beer when she says this, so I spit-spray it all over the plexiglas—and her. Char uses my scarf to wipe her face, and I fake cough to cover up my accident.

  “I mean, sure, Alex has snuck a finger in my Access Denied hole. And yeah, it felt okay.” I pause and consider this for a moment. He did it once. Back when I lived in my apartment. It was some hot sex. I can feel the heat in my cheeks. “Well, maybe better than okay, but there’s a huge, massive difference between the size of his finger and his monster cock. I can’t imagine him ever getting that in there.”

  She shrugs, unwilling to comment, possibly because we’re in a very public arena. That’s fine. I can carry on this conversation all by myself. Her facial expressions are the only answers I need.

  “I don’t get the fascination. Why aren’t vaginas and mouths enough? Why do guys need to stick their dicks in all the holes, not just the ones they fit in easiest?”

  “What are you two talking about?” my mom asks. Sidney’s still standing in the aisle, talking to some guy. I have no idea how long she’s been eavesdropping.

  “Nothing!” Charlene glares at me.

  My mom pats her hand and winks. “It’s okay, honey. You know, it’s totally natural to want to experiment with anal play.”

  “Mom!”

  She smiles and rolls her eyes like I’m a prude for not wanting my ass invaded.

  “Now Sidney has a lot of package.” My mother gestures to her crotch. “But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. It just takes a bit more work to make it happen.”

  Charlene’s absolutely horrified, based on how wide her eyes are. She’s not going to forgive me anytime soon for this. I don’t think I’m going to forgive myself, either. This is probably the last thing I ever wanted to know about my mom and her sex life with Sidney. And I know a lot. More than any daughter should, that’s for sure.

  “Thanks for that, Mom.”

  She doesn’t take the hint to drop the conversation, which is likely where my censor-free gene comes from. Instead she keeps on talking, like it’s a normal thing to chat about with her adult daughter and my friend. “There are some really great lubricants out there, which help a lot. Not the numbing ones, but the relaxants. Right, Charlene?”

  Charlene nods and takes a giant gulp of her beer.

  “Wait. There are different kinds of lube? I mean, other than the regular stuff?”

  Charlene lowers her beer and shoots hate beams out of her eyes at me.

  “What? I know there’s stuff that’s fruity, and stuff that warms up, and stuff that has silicone, and stuff that’s water soluble,” I say, defending my lube knowledge.

  “We should go sex-toy shopping!” my mom says.

  Charlene grins. It’s horribly evil. “You’re right, Skye. We totally should. And we can bring Sunny and Lily along. It’ll be so much fun. We can do that for your bachelorette party, Vi, once you’ve picked a date for the wedding.”

  “Oooh! That’s a great idea!” My mom claps.

  “You’ve picked a date for the wedding?” Sunny asks, leaning over.

  I scratch my nose with my middle finger at Charlen
e, who’s still wearing her evil smile. I turn to Sunny. “Not yet. We’re trying to figure out what works best.”

  This is somewhat true. Alex has thrown out a bunch of dates, all in the off-season and complete with available venues. My issue is that I want to keep it small, and our mothers want the entire world to be there.

  Every venue Alex has suggested has capacity for more than two hundred guests. I’d like it to be our immediate friends and family. That way, if I do something dumb, which is likely, there will be fewer witnesses.

  Sunny’s face falls. “Oh.”

  “It has to be off-season, of course. I think maybe next summer would be better instead of this summer. More time to plan, you know?” I say, hoping I don’t sound as high-pitched to her as I do to me.

  “Yeah. Of course.” She gives me a small smile.

  “We’ll figure it out soon.”

  It’s not that I don’t want to marry Alex. I do. I can’t imagine my life without him. He’s sweet, romantic, alpha at all the right times, intelligent, gorgeous, and so amazing in bed. He’s everything I could ever want. So why can’t I settle on a date and let this happen? It’s anxiety related.

  We had an engagement party several months ago, before the hockey season started. I ended up with the worst case of hives ever. I took so much antihistamine I was high for two days.

  After that Alex backed off, but our mothers were still all over me about it during the holidays, and I ended up with hives again. Alex has skirted the conversation since then; he’s likely giving me a reprieve.

  I know he’s going to bring it up again soon, though, and I’m going to have to gently argue my case for next summer instead of this summer. When he proposed, he said we could have a long engagement. I don’t think two years is unreasonable. It gives us adequate planning time.

  Alex can be particular. He’s going to want his hand in all the pies. Well, his hand only ever goes in my pie, but he’ll be hands-on about this, I know. That’s how he was with the engagement party. And he’s going to want it to be perfect. Only the best of everything.

  I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t end up riding in on a white horse, wearing a suit of armor like he’s straight out of a fairytale. He’s that romantic. Sometimes I feel like the guy in this relationship. Like, after sex, he always wants to cuddle for at least fifteen minutes. Sometimes I zonk out on him while he’s talking.