Pucked Love

by Helena Hunting

  I honestly love that Sunny has grown up in this highly overinformed society and still manages to be innocent. I was sort of like that, at least until we left The Ranch. Then I went from blissfully innocent to exceptionally knowledgeable in a very short span of time. The internet, while helpful for finding information, is also not the best place to learn about things like sex. It was a rough transition.

  “Yeah, Char, wouldn’t a mask with no eyeholes be dangerous?” Violet props her fist on her chin and smiles. “And please, do explain what a ball gag is.”

  “I’m not sure you really want the answer to that, Sunny.” Poppy gives me a look I can’t quite decipher.

  Sunny twirls her hair around her finger. “Why not?”

  “Where’s the harm in a little bondage-sex education? It’s not like Miller’s ever going to go out and buy either item for her. First of all, Alex would murder him, and secondly, I don’t think that’s Miller’s thing.”

  Sunny’s face lights up, and she does jazz hands. “Oh! I think I know what Miller’s thing is!”

  Lily grins. “Eating your cookie?”

  “He really likes to do that, a lot. When my belly gets too big I’ll have to watch from the mirror.” She gets a faraway look in her eyes. “But he has another thing! Kind of like how you and Randy are always getting it on in bathrooms, except I think it’s a bit more sanitary.”

  “And it doesn’t cause thousands of dollars of damage,” Violet adds.

  Lily throws her hands up in the air. “That sink was already falling off the wall. It’s not my fault it broke!”

  “That was one expensive orgasm,” I say.

  “And Randy says it was worth every penny.” Lily’s smile is devious as she bites her knuckle, then turns to Sunny. “Anyway, back to Miller’s thing.”

  Sunny wiggles around excitedly in her chair. “So Miller paints my toenails for me.”

  “Miller’s thing is painting your toenails?”

  “Yes. Well, no. I think he likes my toes.” Her fingers go to her lips, and she looks around the room, her cheeks flushing.

  “Say what now?” Violet asks.

  ”Sometimes he kisses them.” She covers her mouth with her palm and says something unintelligible.

  Violet sits forward in her chair. “Hold on a second, does Buck have a foot fetish?”

  “Um, I don’t know.” Sunny looks worried now. “Is that weird? Is it, like, mask with no eyeholes kind of weird?”

  I dig my toes into Violet’s calf, a warning for her to keep her mouth shut. “No, Sunny. It’s not weird. Lots of people like feet.”

  “All our nerve endings are in our feet,” Sunny says matter of factly.

  “That’s actually true,” Poppy confirms. “I’ve taken a course on foot massage.”

  “Miller gives the best foot massages! Anyway, he didn’t say anything about what happened yesterday apart from that he saw your boobs and some things he shouldn’t have, so I want to hear more about that, especially the face mask and ball gag thing. Who else wants to know what they are?” She raises her hand again and looks around, expecting everyone to raise their hand, too.

  “Am I the only one who doesn’t know what this stuff is?” Sunny frowns.

  “It’s okay not to know,” I tell her.

  “But all of you know.” Sunny sits up a little straighter and flips her hair over her shoulder. “I want to know then, too.”

  I look to Poppy and Lily, who both shrug. They spend more time with Sunny than me. They would know what could potentially upset her, which is not something I want to do to a pregnant woman—especially not one as sensitive, and obviously naïve, as she is. I’m almost sad that I’m taking this little piece of innocence from her. “I guess a ball gag is exactly what it sounds like. It’s a rubber ball that goes in your mouth.”

  Sunny looks horrified. “Isn’t that dangerous? You could choke!”

  God, I love her. “It has straps attached to it, so you can secure it at the back of your head,” Lily explains.

  Sunny blinks a few times. “Why would you strap a rubber ball to your face? I don’t get it.”

  “Maybe a picture would help.” Violet performs a quick search on her phone, but I grab it from her before she can show Sunny the image. I would like it to be the least potentially scarring ball gag picture out there—which seems like an oxymoron. I find one that doesn’t look too awful and show it to Poppy first. Her eyes flare, but she tips her head to Lily.

  I pass the phone to Lily, who grins. “I think my question is, who wears it? You or Darren?”

  Sunny throws her hands in the air. “Will someone show me what it is!”

  Lily holds the phone out to Sunny. “Remember to keep an open mind.”

  Sunny peers at the small image on the screen. She frowns and brings it closer to her face. She twists her hair furiously around her finger until she’s either at risk of knotting it or ripping out the entire chunk. “Wouldn’t it be hard to talk?”

  Lily coughs. “I think that’s kind of the point.”

  Sunny looks from the phone to me and back to the phone. “But . . . why?”

  “So no one can hear her scream.” Violet’s grin is evil.

  “Don’t be a jerk!” I jump in. “It’s about trust, and heightening the experience. When you remove the ability to communicate through words, your partner has to be able to read your body and your reactions. Just like if you remove sight, it heightens touch, smell, and taste. You focus on feeling and being in the moment.” I’m fidgeting with my pearls, nervous about the way they’re all looking at me, maybe judging, seeing me differently. “Not that I have personal experience or anything.”

  “Wait, what do you mean, you don’t have experience? Does that mean Darren is the one who wears the ball gag?” Violet’s eyes light up.

  I snort. “I’d have better luck getting a porcupine to wear a T-shirt.”

  “So what do you do with it if you don’t use it?” Lily looks like she might be interested in taking that ball gag off my hands.

  I don’t want to explain where it all came from, but I’ve kind of boxed myself into a corner. I mean, some of the stuff I bought myself, but the majority came in the form of gifts—not from Darren. Violet and Darren know about my mother’s unconventional career, but I generally don’t broadcast that she’s a Dominatrix. Usually I say she’s in the entertainment industry, which is categorically true.

  I have never worn that ball gag. It was one of my mother’s gifts that ended up in my this sounds interesting pile on the heels of a super-smutty read. It always sounds so hot in books, but then when I tried it on, I didn’t like the way the rubber tasted, and it was awkward. Also, I don’t like not being able to talk. And I couldn’t stop drooling, which is completely unsexy, so it went in my box of no thanks toys. It’s a big box.

  “We use some things.”

  “Like the mask with no eyeholes?” Sunny asks.

  “Well, no, not that either.”

  “Wait a hot damn minute!” Violet slaps the arm of the couch. “Does this mean Darren doesn’t actually have Area 51 access?”

  “Oh, he definitely has Area 51 access, but I get why you don’t want Alex in there.”

  “It’s not that scary. You just need to work up to it,” Lily says.

  “Hold the fucking phone, you let Balls and his giant dick in your backdoor? How does that even happen?” Violet looks shocked.

  “Lots of patience and lube,” I reply.

  Lily smiles. “Exactly. How do you think that hotel bathroom got destroyed?”

  “I guess we know the value Balls puts on anal,” Violet says. “All right, my butt is clenching just from talking about this. Let’s move on, shall we? You know what I’m curious about?” She looks to me. “That necklace you always wear.”

  I finger my pearls. “This?”

  “For a while there I thought maybe it was a collar and Darren was your Dom or something.”

  I roll my eyes. “That’s because we went on a BDSM rea
ding spree in our book club.”

  “What’s the significance, then?” Violet asks.

  “I bought them a long time ago, when I was a teenager, and I wore them until they broke. I loved them so much that I put them in a little bag and carried them around with me all the time anyway.” Which I’m sure sounds silly, but they were the first thing I bought after we left The Ranch. I found them at a thrift shop and fell in love with them.

  “Anyway,” I continue. “One day Darren found them and had them restrung for me, and I’ve been wearing them ever since.”

  “Oh, huh. I made that into something a lot bigger than it was.” Violet seems a little disappointed.

  I’m relieved when no one brings the conversation back to the wheel of sex toys. Maybe it was the mystery and secrecy of what Darren and I do or don’t do in the bedroom that made it more intriguing than it really is.

  Phones start pinging mid-afternoon, signaling the end of practice. Poppy checks her messages, a frown tugging at her mouth. “This whole expansion draft is crazy.”

  “It really is,” Sunny agrees.

  “Between that and playoffs, Randy’s super stressed.”

  “At least he’s safe, though,” Poppy says. “I’m still trying to figure it all out, and getting Lance to explain it is maddening.”

  “What do you mean?” Violet asks.

  “I don’t get how it works.”

  “Oh, well, every team in the league can keep nine players safe from the draft. Players with no-trade clauses can’t be picked up by Vegas, so Alex and Randy are automatically safe. That leaves the team with seven additional players they can keep safe.” Violet pops a grape into her mouth and pushes it to the side, making a lump in her cheek. “There’s no way they’ll let Lance go.”

  “You can’t be sure of that, though, since he doesn’t have a no-trade clause.” Poppy’s anxiety is obviously shared collectively.

  “From a pure numbers perspective, it makes sense, though, right, Char?” Violet looks to me, and I nod.

  As an accountant and financial portfolio manager of NHL players, we know not just what kind of money they make and how to invest it, but also trends, stats, and player viability. We need to be able to look at career trajectory and performance in order to help make smart short- and long-term financial goals.

  I’ve also been obsessed with hockey since I watched my first game, so I know a lot about this.

  “Can you explain that? Because Lance is kind of freaking out a lot about this whole thing. I think he’s worried he’s going to be moved to Vegas and he’ll have to start all over again.”

  I tap on the arm of my chair. “I can’t promise I’m right, but based on Lance’s stats over the past two years, he’s likely to be safe. He’s too valuable to the team for them to let him go. Same goes with Miller. They’re the best defense on the team. They’re not going to risk either of them.”

  “You think so?” Sunny twirls her hair around her finger.

  “Logically, yes. When you take in points, age, team dynamics, and all that other stuff, it makes sense to keep them safe.”

  “What about Darren? He has to be safe then, too, right?”

  I finger my pearls and shrug. “I don’t know. It could go either way.” I’ve reviewed Darren’s stats incessantly since they announced the expansion draft, and the conclusion I’ve come to isn’t great; despite his age, his stats have improved over the past two seasons, rather than declined.

  “But he’s been Alex’s wingman for years. They can’t trade him,” Lily says.

  “Who’ll take us lingerie shopping if you move to Vegas?” Violet jokes, but her expression reflects my own worry.

  I have no idea what will happen to me and Darren if he’s traded, and our brief conversation this morning left me with more questions than answers.

  Beyond that, Violet has been my only constant since freshman year of college. The idea of leaving behind the stability of my job, my best friend, and my independence is terrifying. Besides, I don’t even know if Darren would want me to come with him. We don’t have the same kind of relationship as the rest of our friends.

  I’m independent, and so is he. I have my little house, and he has his big house. Hell, we haven’t even met each other’s parents. Until now it wasn’t something I worried about.

  With the expansion draft looming and the possibility that Darren could end up traded, I feel uncertain about everything. I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t want to lose anyone else either, or my job and my independence. It’s been easy up until now, and suddenly it isn’t anymore.

  Even Poppy, the newest addition to our group, knows that no matter what, she’s going where Lance goes. It’s secured in the diamond she wears on her ring finger. Lily and Randy might not follow the wedding-and-babies path, but they live together, too, and they have a dog together, which is almost like having a kid. All I have is the pearl necklace Darren had restrung for me, and no real certainty that he’d want me to come with him. Or whether I’d be able to leave all of the other people I love behind for him.

  I feel off kilter when I get home, listless and uncertain. While all the other girls had messages from their boyfriends or husbands this afternoon, I had silence from Darren. Normally it wouldn’t be an issue, but with what happened last night and the discussion about the expansion draft, I’m feeling less than secure, which is not like me.

  The reason Darren and I work so well is partly because he’s never pushed to get serious. He seems content to keep doing what we’re doing. Which is fine with me—or at least it was.

  I drop my purse on the kitchen counter and scrub a hand over my face. I need something sweet. Well, what I really need is Darren and an orgasm. But since I saw him last night, that’s not an option unless I want to look clingy—which is something I pride myself on not being—so I’ll have to settle for hot chocolate.

  I fill my milk frother, because I’m not ruining nice hot chocolate by using boiled water, and pick one of the gourmet tins my mom likes to send me. Every month I get a care package from her. Mostly it’s herbal stuff likes teas and candles and creams for endless youth, but she also likes to send me whatever new sex toy she’s found at whatever Dominatrix conference she’s attended recently. She means well, but it’s awkward.

  I check the tin with the candies my mom sends me and frown. My supply is dwindling, which is yet another thing to worry about. I haven’t been this anxious since . . . well, since we left The Ranch. I tap on the counter, waiting for the milk to froth. I could maybe try giving myself an orgasm to take the edge off, but I’m not sure that’s going to be helpful.

  I’ve just poured the frothy milk into my mug when my phone buzzes on the counter. I snatch it up, but my smile fades as Mom flashes across the screen. I feel bad for being disappointed, but I’d hoped Darren might check in. I put a pin in my disappointment because it’s nice to hear from my mom. She keeps busy, so sometimes it’s difficult to find time to catch up.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Char-char, how’s my baby girl?”

  “I’m good.” I prop the phone on my shoulder, dump a handful of marshmallows into my hot chocolate, and head for the living room. “How are you?”

  “Fantastic. Just wonderful! I can’t talk long because I’m in between clients, but I wanted to let you know I’ll be in town next week.”

  I sit up straighter, fingers of unease raking down my spine and slithering lower. It’s such an uncomfortable feeling, especially when I’m talking to my mom. “In Chicago? When?”

  “Probably not until later in the week. I’ll know more soon, but I want to spend some time with you! I haven’t seen my baby in almost a year, and I miss you. Oh! And I have some new fun things for you, too! Early birthday presents and such. You’ll be around? I know sometimes you travel for work.”

  I hold in my sigh of relief. Darren leaves for the first two away games of the playoffs in a couple of days, so I don’t have to worry about my mom being in town at the same time he is. So
far I’ve been lucky that her infrequent visits have coincided nicely with his away games.

  Also, I don’t actually travel for work, but sometimes I go to away games with Violet when they’re on the weekends or we can get a day off, especially on the long stretches when the guys are gone for more than a week. It’s nice to break up the separation a little. I don’t talk to my mom about relationships since she’s very much against them. She hasn’t had a real boyfriend since we left The Ranch, and that was over a decade ago.

  “That would be great. What’s in Chicago, other than me?” My mom wouldn’t just come for the sake of visiting me. It’s not that she doesn’t love me—she does—but her life is . . . strange. She doesn’t stay in the same place for long, moving around the country and refusing to set down any roots. She’s not designed for parenting, something I learned once we left The Ranch. She’s really good at a few things: getaways, making candies, and being a career Dominatrix.

  “I have a work conference. It should be a lot of fun. Oh! My five o’clock is here! I’ll call you when I’m in town.”

  “Okay. Oh, and Mom?”

  “Yes, Char-char?”

  “Can you bring me more candies? I’m almost out.”

  “Of course, honey. I’ll bring lots.”

  I end the call and flop back on the couch. It’s close to dinnertime, but I don’t feel like making anything. I wonder what Darren’s doing now. For the first time ever, I consider what it would be like to have someone to come home to, how I might like to curl up in that reading chair in Darren’s living room and wait for him to walk through the door.

  Sometimes I think it might be nice to be less independent and not quite so afraid of being trapped in someone’s jar.

  DARREN

  Practice is tense, as expected. I follow Alex to the sauna and drop down on the bench. Half the team is in here, and most of them are talking about the upcoming playoff game against Nashville. Not knowing who’s safe and who isn’t only adds to the stress.