Big Puck (a hot hockey romantic comedy) (Size Matters Book 6)

by Blake Wilder

  “Come on,” I said, taking her hand and dragging her up from the table. “If you can fuck, you can dance.”

  I expected her to drag her heels, but Charley was way too into it the second I mentioned fucking.

  Shit. I mentally started a list of all the things I could purchase to buy my sister’s forgiveness because there was no way I wasn’t taking Charley to bed tonight.

  She turned to face me when we reached the dance floor. The smile she gave me was pure seduction and it had a pretty intense—instant—impact on my cock.

  I reached for her waist, dragging her body tight to mine, using her as a shield before everyone and their brother saw the boner I was sporting.

  Charley’s eyes widened and she sucked in a soft gasp.

  Yeah. She felt it. That was my other reason for pulling her close.

  “Well,” she said as she wrapped her arms around my waist, grinding against me in a way that wasn’t helping my current condition.

  Of course, it wasn’t hurting it either.

  “Fucking, you say?” Her tone was pure sensual mischief, which was a pretty great way to describe this adult version of Charley. Every lithe curve of her body, every smooth shimmy of her waist as she pressed herself against me screamed sex, while her knowing smile, sparkling green eyes, and quick wit told me she knew exactly what effect she was having on me.

  She was a challenge.

  She was charming.

  And try as I may, I couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman more.

  I slid my hands over her hips, gripping her tightly, the two of us swaying to the beat of the music, creating our own rhythm, our own pace.

  Mercifully, the song had nearly been over and the band moved on to a slow song.

  I wrapped my arms around her lower back, my finger stroking the soft, bare skin beneath the laces of her dress.

  Charley lifted her arms to my shoulder, shifting her upper body even closer.

  As long as she didn’t lift her face, I’d be fine.

  I’d find a way to…

  She tiled her head back, her eyes capturing mine and I was lost.

  I kissed her just like I had in the lobby outside the ballroom. I’d told myself that kiss was just for show, a surefire way to jerk her ex’s chain when he saw her smudged lip gloss and swollen lips.

  I could admit now that had been a lie.

  I’d kissed her because I’d wanted to see if the attraction I felt would translate to arousal.

  Fuck me.

  This had gone a million miles beyond arousal. I was knee-deep in a white-hot lust that had me pushing this kiss—this very public kiss—beyond the limits of appropriateness.

  My hands were wrapped in her hair, my tongue stroking inside her mouth, and I imagined going down on her later. Giving her a similar kiss in a much more intimate place.

  Charley wasn’t helping matters. She was right there, adding her own desire to the kiss.

  I forced myself to break the union. It was that or drag her over to the table and take her right there.

  Charley’s eyes had been closed, but now, she blinked a few times and she appeared to be trying to focus.

  She recovered quickly.

  “I think I’d like to revise my previous opinion on dancing. I love it.”

  I laughed and somehow managed to simply hold her, swaying in time with the tune, without pushing for more.

  By the time the song ended, I was in a little bit better shape. Enough at least to loosen my grip on her.

  Another fast song began, but the best bet was to slow our roll, come up for air.

  “You want another drink?” I asked, pointing to the bar.

  She nodded. “Yeah. Another glass of wine. I’m going to go to the ladies’ room. Meet you back at the table.”

  I gave her a quick kiss, then watched as she walked to the restroom. I made my way to the bar and requested a glass of red wine for Charley, a glass of Scotch for me. I probably should have gotten us both a glass of water too. We’d already had too much to drink.

  “Hi, Alex.”

  I turned, surprised to see Ben standing next to me. A quick glance around showed me Beverly was still at their table, speaking to the groom’s mother and aunt.

  “Ben,” I said, not bothering to temper my tone with anything resembling friendliness. This dick had cheated on Charley. He was lucky I wasn’t laying him out on the floor.

  “I was surprised to see you here tonight.”

  “Season’s over.”

  “Yeah. Tough game. But what I meant was seeing you here with Charlotte.”

  “Charley,” I corrected, narrowing my eyes. This guy had zero right to question anything Charley was doing. Or me for that matter.

  “Listen, Alex. I know what you must think of me. I’m sure Charlot—Charley—has told you about us. About the other night. I’m pretty sure none of it was flattering.”

  “Is there going to be a point to this conversation?”

  Ben paused for a moment, then he shrugged, as if he’d lost his nerve. I figured that was it and started to reach for the drinks.

  Ben decided to try again. “Charley was new to dating when the two of us first hooked up. Brand new.”

  He gave me a second to let that sink in. The fucker had taken Charley’s virginity. That fact was pissing me off a lot more than I would have expected.

  “All I’m saying is she doesn’t have a whole lot of experience with dating. And none with guys like you.”

  Like me.

  I knew exactly what he was insinuating and I didn’t like it. Not one bit. My fists clenched, but I kept them by my side, fighting to remind myself this was a wedding. That Roger was a good friend and I didn’t want to fuck it up by beating the shit out of this asshole.

  I counted to five, and when that didn’t work, I headed for ten. Ben mistook my silence, assuming I was an interested listener.

  “You’re way out of her league. Trust me, there are a lot better options around here tonight for what you have in mind.”

  “What I have in mind?” I was starting to get this asshole’s number. He didn’t want Charley, but he didn’t want anyone else to have her either.

  “Have you taken a look around tonight?” Ben said, smiling, somewhere along the line getting the impression that we were friends. “Lindsey’s bridesmaids are off the chain. Makes me sorry I brought a date.”

  “I’m sure Beverly would love to hear that.”

  Ben sobered up quickly. “Listen, man. I’m just trying to do you a favor. Charley’s okay in bed, but you can do better, you know?”

  Ben Jerome was a fucking dead man.

  “Hey, Alex.” I felt a firm hand on my upper arm and I realized I had raised my fist, ready to lay Ben out flat.

  Ben had noticed too. He’d lost all color in his face and he’d taken a big step away from me. I started to close the gap, but Charley had a strong grip on me, holding me back.

  That was the only thing about her that let me know she was aware of my current state. The rest of her appeared calm, carefree. “Are those our drinks? Need a hand?” She used that opening to step between me and Ben.

  “Charley. Get out of the way, sweetheart.” I was intent on finishing what I started. No one was going to put Charley down and live to tell about it.

  Even worse, Charley had to have heard the insult.

  “You get five for fighting,” she murmured to me, in a placating tone. “Besides, I thought you were playing defense tonight?”

  I was struggling to shake off my anger. Ben deserved to have his ass handed to him and I was more than man enough to do it.

  When I didn’t reply, Charley stepped even closer to me. “Please,” she whispered. “He’s not worth it.”

  As much as I wanted to take Ben down, there was no way I could refuse Charley. Not when she lifted those pretty green eyes to me and gave me a genuine, sweet—fuck me—grateful smile.

  “Though I do like this whole defend-my-honor thing you’ve got going on.” The littl
e minx winked at me.

  I grinned, despite my anger. “You gonna bench me, coach?” I asked, letting her know I was trying to pull my shit together.

  She lifted up on her toes and gave me a too-chaste kiss on the cheek. “Nope. I’ve never known you not to take a swing or two for a wronged teammate. It’s why you’re the best captain in the NHL.”

  Charley Matthews knew exactly how to speak my language.

  I wrapped my arm around her waist and placed my lips at her ear, so only she could hear me. “You didn’t let me swing. I really need to swing.”

  She twisted slightly so her cheek was pressed against mine. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

  With that, Charley stepped away from me, picking up both of our drinks from the bar, and handing them to me so my hands were full and I couldn’t throw the punch. Then she wrapped one arm around my waist and guided me away.

  Adrenaline coursed through my veins. She wasn’t wrong. I didn’t walk away from fights on the ice. Doing so now was rubbing against the grain. Hard.

  “You’re going to make it up to me now. It’s taking everything I have not to rip that guy to pieces.”

  The rage in my tone must have penetrated. She took the drinks from me and put them on a nearby table that was vacant—the partiers on the dance floor.

  Charley grasped my hand and led me out of the ballroom to a door with the sign that read “Family Bathroom.”

  Glancing around, she confirmed no one was around, then she pulled me inside with her, locking the door behind us.

  “Listen,” she started, intent on trying to talk me down. “I apprec—”

  I didn’t give her the chance.

  The second we were alone, the pent-up aggression exploded as I pushed her against the closed door and kissed her hard. Charley’s hands wrapped around my neck, her fingers curling in my hair, pulling it until my scalp stung.

  God. She was as fired up as I was.

  Her dress wrapped around her, leaving a slit up one side that had been giving me generous peeks of her long, tanned leg all night. I used that slit to my advantage now, as it gave me easy access to her pussy.

  Dipping my fingers beneath her panties, I found her clit, stroking it. It was like touching an electric wire. Charley gasped and jerked, her head falling back against the door.

  “God,” she breathed. “Yes.”

  She was soaking wet, her panties way more than damp.

  “You’re wet.” I grinned. “You’re welcome.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Cocky bastard,” she murmured. “You weren’t leaving much to the imagination out there on the dance floor. Those moves of yours could make the Sahara Desert wet. My whole body…God…it aches.”

  I gripped her hand and ran it over the front of my dress pants, showing her what kind of impact she was having on me as well. “You’re not the only one in pain.”

  I regretted pointing my hard-on out to her when she attempted to unfasten my pants.

  I shook my head. I wanted Charley more than anything at the moment, but I’d be damned if I’d take her in a hotel bathroom. Gripping her wrists, I pulled her hands away. Because it was Charley, she put up a pretty decent fight.

  “I’m not fucking you here, Charley.”

  That pulled her up short. “But you are going to fuck me, right?”

  I chuckled, pressing my forehead against hers. “Jesus. You’re killing me. Bella told me to keep my hands to myself.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You gotta stop giving your sister her way all the time. She’s spoiled.” Then she gave me a smile that was way-too-sexy for her lack of experience. “I want you. Maybe I could get my way this time.” She started to reach for my dick again.

  Time for me to grab the reins, take control. “No. Right now is all about me. You’re forgetting something. You owe me.”

  Charley tilted her head and I could see she was confused.

  “You pulled me out of there before I could teach Ben Jerome a lesson about dicks who mess with my friends.”

  She smiled when I called her a friend. Funny how that word felt wrong.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “You.” I ran my finger over her clit again, enjoying her quiet moan of pleasure.

  “But you said we…weren’t…”

  Her question faded away when I pushed two fingers inside her. “You’re going to come for me. Right here. Right now.”

  Her fingers clenched the shoulders of my jacket. “I don’t think I can—oh God,” she cried when I curled my fingers inside her, finding her G-spot.

  I leaned closer, nipping at her earlobe. “I want to feel that tight pussy of yours clenching on my fingers. Want you to think about how full you’re going to feel when I slide my cock into all that wet heat later tonight. I’m not a gentle lover, Charley. I’m going to fuck you hard.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly made of glass.” Her words were pure Charley, but the tone, the way she said it…breathless, haltingly…made my cock even harder.

  I couldn’t resist showing her exactly what I meant. I thrust my fingers in and out, deeper, faster, wiggling my thumb against her clit to provoke those sexy little gasps of hers.

  She started to tremble, her arousal rapidly growing to fever pitch. I liked to think of myself as a pretty good lover, a gentleman. I always made sure the women I took to bed came before me.

  But this? This was something else.

  Charley wasn’t holding anything back. And the crazy part was…she seemed to be equal parts turned on and shocked.

  I crooked my fingers one more time, pulling the trigger.

  She went stiff for a second, her mouth opening, though no sound came out and no air went in. Then she cried out—a little too loudly for our surroundings—so I bent my head and kissed her, trying to muffle the cries no one walking by outside would mistake for anything other than what they were.

  I pulled my fingers free as her orgasm started to subside, her pussy muscles twitching in the aftermath.

  She was leaning against the bathroom door and that, plus my hand on her waist, were probably the only things holding her up.

  “I,” she started. “I never come that fast. It always takes…”

  “Takes what?”

  She gave me an embarrassed grin. “A long time.”

  “Mmm hmmm.” I had an opinion about that, something I fully intended to discuss with her, but we’d already been gone too long. I wrapped my arm around her waist, though I could see her strength had returned, and guided her to the sink. We stood there, looking at each other through the reflection in the mirror as I washed my hands and she attempted to fix her makeup. Her lip gloss was practically gone at this point, so she wiped the rest off.

  We grinned at each other like a couple of giddy kids. The whole moment felt almost domestic, as if we were an old couple getting ready for bed together. I’d never really experienced that or even felt like it was something I wanted.

  Now, well…now I did.

  The idea of having someone standing next to me as I brushed my teeth for bed sounded pretty damn nice and I recalled once more how lonely my house had felt after losing that game.

  For a second, I considered what it would have been like if Charley had been there with me. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, she would have known how to make me feel better, would have known how to help me shake off my anger, my disappointment.

  I shook those thoughts away. If I was thinking about a woman—about Charley—living with me, I was more fucked up over the loss than I realized.

  “You ready to go back?” I asked.

  She hesitated for a moment before nodding. “How much longer do we have to stay?”

  I chuckled. “Think you can make it until they cut the cake?”

  She considered that. “Yeah. But I don’t want to stick around to eat it.”

  “Deal.”

  She unlocked the bathroom door, glancing both ways along the corridor. “Coast is clear,” she sa
id.

  I rolled my eyes as I gave her a wee push out. We held hands as we walked back into the ballroom and directly to the bar. We’d lost our drinks. Two people along the way mentioned the game and offered me the words I was starting to hate above all others. “You’ll get ’em next year.”

  So, in keeping with the game, we did two more tequila shots together. The alcohol was warm and numbing. Between that and Charley, the tension in my shoulders and back was completely gone. I felt loose, fuzzy, happy and…ready to take on the world.

  I couldn’t shake the feeling that something big was going to happen tonight. I didn’t have a clue what exactly.

  But I couldn’t wait.

  Six

  Charley

  Alex and I grabbed another tequila shot each, carrying them back to the table. At this point, I’d decided it was smart to just commit to the liquor and stop trying to look hoity-toity with the wine. Mixing them would only lead to disaster and I preferred the shots anyway.

  My whole body was buzzing—my head from the tequila—and my body, even my skin, from that orgasm.

  Holy shit. I hadn’t lied to Alex. I never came that quick. When he’d told me what he wanted, I’d had a brief moment of panic, wondering if I could fake an orgasm well enough to fool him. I mean it was either that or hang out in the bathroom the rest of the night.

  With Ben…my climaxes were hit or miss. Sometimes, he’d go the extra mile to get me there—actually finding my clit and the right rhythm. Other times, he was just sort of all over the place, and when it became obvious he wasn’t going to find that magic button—even with me giving explicit directions—I’d just give up and fake it.

  On those nights, I’d sneak to the bathroom with my vibrator after he was asleep and take care of business myself. I’d tried to do that a couple times in bed, but Ben had gotten his feelings hurt, viewing the toy as an insult to his masculinity. Of course, at that point, he’d start blaming me, insisting it wasn’t his fault I was so uptight.

  I silently added another item to my perfect-guy list.