Puck Buddies

by Valente, Lili

  Bree claps her hands. “Awesome. I’m starving.”

  Settling into our seats, we load our plates and dig in, our moans of enjoyment interspersed with light conversation and long moments of silent admiration for the stunning view of the Pacific. We talk shop—she fills me in on the latest psychology stuff she’s learning, and I give her a rundown of what I’m working on in my sessions with Tank. She tells the latest sad but amusing tales from the bar, featuring a regular named Bob who’s teaching his parrot to steal his keys when he gets too wasted to drive, and I share my latest vinyl score, a set of vintage blues albums I got from my ex-roommate’s ex-roommate, who got a job in Japan and had to abandon his record collection to fit everything he owned into a one hundred and fifty square foot apartment in Tokyo.

  Bree’s eyes go wide, and she hurries to finish chewing. “One hundred and fifty square feet? Isn’t that like…coffin-sized?”

  “Not quite, but the van is eighty square feet in back if that gives you a rough idea.”

  “Wow.” Bree swirls her wine as she turns to gaze up at the pink and blue sky. The sun set nearly an hour ago, and the air is starting to cool, but it’s still a perfect evening. Warm, but not too warm, breezy, but not strong enough to send our napkins flying off the table.

  It’s just right.

  Just like being here with her.

  “I mean, I love the van.” Bree sweeps a hand toward the horizon. “And this view. Man, do I love this view. But I don’t know if I could do it full time. I try not to care too much about possessions, but I love my record collection. I mean, I could live without Nina Simone on vinyl on Sunday mornings, but I don’t know why I would want to, you know?”

  “Which reminds me…” I hop to my feet and bound into the van, powering up the speakers and putting on one of our favorite playlists, the one in which her beloved Nina features prominently.

  By the time I emerge from the back, Bree’s foot is already tapping to “Sugar in my Bowl,” and there’s a big smile on her face. “Perfect. To Nina.” She lifts her glass to the sky before downing her last sip with a sensuality that makes it hard to look away. Then she turns back to me with a sultry expression. “Dance by the fire?”

  “Any time,” I murmur, crossing the threadbare grass to draw her into my arms beside our sputtering fire. It’s putting off enough warmth to heat the side of my face as I spin her in a slow circle, but I barely notice. I’m too focused on Bree and the heat building in the air between us.

  My hand flat against the small of her back, I guide her closer, relishing the way she moves—sensuous and strong and not even a little self-conscious—as we dance. “We should go dancing when we get back to the city,” I say, spinning her in a slow circle as Nina sings about wanting sweetness down in her soul.

  “I’ve never been dancing with a boy,” Bree says, brushing the hair from my forehead. “Only my girlfriends.”

  “Well, that’s no fun. Then you have to skip all the slow dances.”

  “I would slow dance with my girls, but there’s no easy listening at Da Club.” She narrows her eyes. “Unless I’m going to the wrong clubs.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t do clubs. Too loud and dark.”

  “Old man,” Bree says fondly, making me grin.

  “I am an old man. I like swing night at the Silver Sundown.”

  She cocks her head, her brows pinching. “I thought that was a retirement home.”

  “It is. My great grandma used to live there. I’d go dance with her every Saturday I had free.” I shrug. “After she passed, I kept going. By then, I’d made a lot of friends, and the music is good. And not to brag, but I’m pretty popular with ladies over a certain age.”

  Bree’s smile takes full possession of her face. “I bet you are. Ladies of a certain age have an eye for quality.”

  “You think I’m quality, Marks?” I ask, swaying to a stop as the last bluesy notes fade into the breath between tracks.

  “I do.” She traces the curve of my ear, even that innocent touch enough to make me ache. I’m past ready to take this romantic evening inside, shut the van doors, and disappear into a world where no one exists but Bree.

  But instead of taking her hand and leading her away from the dying fire, I hear myself asking, “Then why did you shoot me down for so long? You knew I wanted to be more than your flea market buddy.”

  Bree looks startled by the question but rallies quickly. “Honestly? I’m not a hundred percent sure about that myself. I thought I had a type, I guess, and you weren’t it.”

  “Not into guys who treat you right and think skinny jeans are the worst thing to happen to man fashion in the history of ever?”

  “Maybe. Maybe it was as dumb as that.” Her mouth softens and uncertainty flickers in her eyes. “Or maybe deep down I was a little intimidated.”

  It’s my turn to be confused. “Intimidated? By me? I’m the least intimidating person I know. I’m like a Golden Retriever, stupid friendly and too slobbery to be taken seriously.”

  She laughs. “Not true. You’re gorgeous and so much more successful than I am. And sweet and fun.” She turns her head, suddenly very interested in the wine bottle we left on the table. “And, I don’t know…”

  “You do know,” I insist, dying to hear what she’s holding back. Windows into Bree’s private thoughts are rare, and I intend to make the most of this moment when her guard is down and her tongue is loose. “Tell me. I can keep a secret.”

  “I guess I can, too,” she says, the skin around her eyes going tight. “Even from myself.”

  Before I can ask her what she means, she shifts her attention back to my face, pinning me with a look so naked it makes my heart stop for a beat. “I didn’t realize until now that you scare me a little,” she says softly. “You’re so great. Perfect, really. I guess deep down, I’ve always been worried I wouldn’t measure up.”

  My forehead furrows. “You can’t be serious. You used to model professionally. You’re on your way to becoming a doctor, and I’m just—”

  “Used to,” she cuts in. “And on my way. I’m not one thing or the other. I’m in the middle, barely getting by tending bar, and not sure if any of my big dreams are ever going to come true. Meanwhile, you play for the NHL.”

  I shrug. “So?”

  She laughs. “Don’t even try it. You know it’s a big deal. And you know I’m a little fish by comparison. You could be dating girls who are currently models or actresses or who, at the very least, have a solid normal job and don’t come home smelling like sour beer every night.”

  “But I didn’t want any of those girls,” I say, drawing her closer. “I wanted you.”

  I still want you, I confess with a kiss, telling her with each brush of my lips against hers that she’s what I want, what I need, the only person who’s ever made me this nervous about taking a woman to bed. And not just because it’s dangerous to her health. Her allergy has little to do with the storm raging inside me as we kiss our way across the campsite toward the van.

  I’m nervous because I want this to be good not just for her, but for us. I want her to see that we’re meant to be more than friends, to feel how perfectly we fit together, and to realize that it’s not too late.

  Fuck the distance. And fuck our buddies-with-benefits bargain.

  I want Bree to be mine. Really mine. Not just for tonight, but for the next week, the next month, the next as-long-as-I-can-have-her because nothing has ever felt as right as her against me, her with me, her in my life and in my bed and sighing my name as I pull down the mattress and we roll onto it together.

  “No stopping tonight,” she murmurs against my mouth. “Promise me.”

  “No stopping,” I swear, my breath rushing out as her hands dive under my shirt. “But you have to make me a promise, too.”

  “Anything.” Her head falls back with a moan as I kiss my way down her neck, finding the place where her pulse races low in her throat and circling it with my tongue.

  “You tell
me what you like and you don’t like,” I say, my own pulse spiking as I work open the buttons on her tank top, baring her simple brown bikini. “Don’t be afraid to tell me what you want.”

  “I want all of you, and I love everything you do to me.” Her fingers tangle in my hair as she adds in a softer voice, “But our clothes could be coming off faster, don’t you think?”

  Before I can answer, she’s pulling my T-shirt over my head, making me sputter as she lifts it just far enough to get stuck around my neck before she starts tugging at my fly. In a matter of seconds, I’m down to my boxer briefs and she’s wearing nothing but a tiny swimsuit bottom that she’s on the verge of sliding down her thighs when I stop her with a hand on her wrist. “No, let me. Lie back.”

  Bree relaxes onto the pillows, watching with glittering eyes as I hook my thumbs into the strings tied on either side of her hips.

  But instead of drawing the fabric down, I shift forward, bringing my lips even with her stomach and pressing a kiss to her navel. “You have the prettiest belly button I’ve ever seen,” I murmur against her warm skin. “Nearly as pretty as these.” I lift my attention to her breasts, flicking my tongue across one tight nipple, summoning a gasp from her parted lips.

  “I’ve been dreaming about that all day,” she says, her voice going breathy as I close my mouth around her and begin to suck. “Oh God, yes… That…”

  She shudders beneath me as I capture her other nipple between my fingers, rolling and plucking, making her breath come even faster.

  She’s so fucking sexy all I want to do is race her out of the rest of our clothes, whip a condom or three onto my cock to keep things safe, and get lost inside her. But that’s not what tonight is about. Tonight is for exploration and discovery. For taking our time and making a first memory she’ll never forget.

  “How do you feel about stars?” I ask, pausing to circle her nipple with my tongue, granting her sensitive flesh a brief reprieve. “Want to see them?”

  “I’m already seeing them,” she says, raking her nails gently down my shoulders.

  I smile against her breast. “Then how about a double dose?” I reach over, hitting the button near the nightstand, triggering a soft whirring sound from the ceiling as the roof panel over the bed slides to the side, revealing pale evening sky and the first stars flickering to life in a bed of deep blue.

  Bree’s breath catches. “Oh, Shane. It’s magical.” She cups my face in her hands, gazing into my eyes with a mixture of hunger, gratitude, and anticipation that makes my heart feel too big for my chest. “Thank you,” she whispers. “For this and everything else.”

  “Don’t thank me,” I say, my throat tight. “I’ve wanted this for so long, doc. You’re so beautiful. Every part of you.”

  Her eyes begin to shine, but she doesn’t look away. “So are you. I’m so glad you’re going to be my first. I can’t wait to feel you inside of me.”

  My jaw clenches so hard it sends a shudder through my entire body.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispers.

  “Nothing,” I say, shaking my head. “You’re just sexy as hell.”

  Her lips curve. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. And I just want you. So damned much.”

  “So much it hurts,” she says in a voice that assures me she understands exactly where I’m coming from.

  “Yeah.” I shiver as her hands roam down my back and her breasts lift closer to my face once more.

  “But hurts so good,” she adds, the smile curving her lips becoming a moan as I bend my head, determined to show her nipples how much I’ve missed them in the sixty seconds since I last made their acquaintance.

  I cup her breasts, pressing them lightly together so my tongue can attend to both at the same time. I squeeze and caress, lick and suck, worshipping her sweet skin until I can’t resist the urge to kiss my way back down her stomach toward even sweeter territory.

  As I hook my fingers in the sides of her swimsuit, I whisper, “Lift your hips.”

  “Only if you get a condom first.”

  “Don’t worry, my boxers are staying on,” I assure her, head already spinning from the scent of her.

  She smells like the ocean, salty and wild, and I can’t wait to taste her.

  To claim her pussy with my tongue.

  To make her come grinding her wetness into my face.

  “No.” Bree tugs at my hair, gently at first, then with more force, finally succeeding in dragging my attention away from between her thighs. I glance up, gaze crashing into hers.

  “I need you,” she says, voice trembling. “Please, Shane. I need you.” Her desperation cuts through me, shredding all my big plans.

  There will be time to taste her later. Right now I have to give my girl what she needs. “I’ll be right back,” I promise, rolling off the bed and crossing to the kitchen in two long strides. I crouch down, pulling condoms and the disposal system I worked up from beneath the sink.

  And then I stand, ripping open the condom wrapper with my teeth.

  I shove my boxer briefs lower on my hips, but before I can get the condom out of the package, Bree calls softly from behind me, “Let me see. I want to watch.”

  I glance over my shoulder. “You want to watch me put it on?”

  She nods as I turn fully around, the lust in her eyes as they rake down my chest to where the head of my cock peeks from the waistband of my underwear summoning more pre-cum from my tip, making me glad I’m nowhere near the bed or her skin. “Yes,” she says. “I want to watch you put it on. I want to see you.”

  Almost dizzy with arousal, I slowly, deliberately, push my boxers down around the tops of my thighs, setting my aching length bobbing free. I’m so hard there are only a few inches between my stomach and my swollen cock, and every inch of me is on clear display, a fact that sends unease whispering through my desire.

  I’ve been in enough locker rooms to know I’m on the larger side of average. Not the longest around, but thicker than most. I’ve never considered my cock from a first time with a virgin point of view, but now that I do, I wonder if the size is going to make Bree nervous.

  Or, God forbid, scared.

  The last thing I want to do is scare her. I want this to be as sexy and fun as possible, while still making safety our top priority.

  But when I shoot a glance her way, peering at her through the hair falling over my forehead, she doesn’t seem the least bit intimidated. She looks…ready, her breasts rising and falling faster as I grip my cock in one hand and roll the condom on slowly with the other. And then her hand drifts to the top of her bikini bottom and disappears beneath the waistband, and the last of my hesitation flies out the roof to be swept away by the ocean breeze.

  “Are you wet for me?” I ask as I dispose of my boxers with a jerk of my arms.

  “So wet.” She stares deep into my eyes as her hand moves lower and a sexy, turned-on whimper-gasp escapes from her lips. “God, Shane, you make me so wet.”

  And she makes me crazy, so crazy I’m halfway to the bed before I remember I should wash my hands—just in case, just to be safe—and spin back to the sink. I wash and dry and practically race back to the bed, where Bree is kicking her swimsuit bottom off one foot and reaching for me with both arms.

  I fall onto the mattress and roll on top of her, kissing her without holding back. I devour her sweet mouth, confessing all my secrets, telling her without words all the things I can’t say out loud. I tell her that I’m crazy about her. That I would kill to be the full-time man in her bed and die for even one more night like this one, with her breath rushing in my lungs and her heart beating in time with mine and her stunning body opening for me like the most sacred, sexy-as-hell gift I’ve ever been given.

  “God, Bree,” I groan as my fingers glide into her heat. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  She lifts into my hand with more turned-on sounds that make me even hotter, wilder. And then her nails dig into my ass hard enough to break the skin, and I can’t hold ba
ck another second. Pulling my hand from her pussy, I move between her legs, loving the way she spreads her thighs to welcome me in.

  “Yes, baby.” Her arms curl around my neck as I position myself at her entrance. “Oh yes.”

  I move over her in one smooth motion, bringing my lips back to hers as I glide inside her, burying my cock in her sweetness inch by blissful inch. She’s so tight her pussy grips me like a fist. I try to go slow, to give her time to adjust, but Bree is already bucking into me, taking me deeper, until I hit that thin wall of resistance inside her and break through.

  Her breath hisses in and holds, and I go still. Every instinct I possess is demanding that I move, that I ride her, take her, but instead I stay where I am, with my aching balls pulsing in the seam of her ass and my cock buried to the hilt in her body.

  “Are you all right?” I smooth the hair from her face, biting my lip to give myself something to focus on besides the maddening desire to pull out and thrust back in.

  “I’m fine,” she says, but almost immediately shakes her head. “No, I’m not. It hurts, but I’m still so desperate for more of you. I feel trapped between it—the hurt and the want.” Her hands shake as she grips my biceps. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t you dare apologize. Just let me help.” I kiss her forehead and whisper, “Try to relax, beautiful.”

  She sighs as I cup her breasts gently, massaging them in my palms first, deliberately avoiding her nipples. “I like it when you call me beautiful. It’s different.”

  “Different how?” I skim a hand down to her hip, rubbing my fingers into the joint as I tease my other thumb over her nipple.

  She arches into my touch. “I can tell you mean more than the way I look.” Her hand molds to my ribs, inches below my heart, her touch sending warmth flooding through me as she adds in a softer voice, “This feels so right, Shane. So perfect, even with the pain.”

  “Perfect,” I echo as I continue to do my best to take her pain away.

  Or to, at the very least, drown out the pain with pleasure.