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Pucks & Penalties: Pucked Series Deleted Scenes and Outtakes Version 2.0 (The Pucked Series)

Page 13

by Helena Hunting


  “Oh, right. Sorry, kitten. Randy, this is my girlfriend, Tenley.” He puts a hand on her waist.

  Well, that explains the nickname.

  “Hey. Hi!” Turning to me, she holds out a hand and shakes mine enthusiastically. “It’s so nice to meet you. I made cupcakes. Would you like one before Hayden tries to tackle me for them?”

  Hayden lifts an eyebrow. “I’m not that bad.”

  Lisa barks out a laugh, and Tenley snorts. She gives him her back while she opens the container, then takes two exaggerated steps away and offers me a cupcake. I’m more of a savory snack kind of guy, but these look incredible, so I take one.

  “Did you make these?” I ask Tenley.

  “I did.”

  “They look awesome.” They’re decorated with our team colors. I wonder if it was on purpose.

  “Thanks.” She gives me a huge smile.

  Hayden watches her while she traipses over to the jewelry counter, introduces herself to Lily, and offers her and Lisa a cupcake. Chris, who disappeared a while ago, comes out of the back room and grabs one, too, making a big deal out of the black cupcake papers and the red and white decorations. Tenley flushes and gives him a look, like maybe she’s embarrassed. Hayden crosses his arms over his chest and clears his throat.

  Leaning on the counter, Tenley lifts a cupcake out of the container while watching him. Then she starts peeling off the wrapper, slowly. I feel like I’m watching some kind of weird foreplay, like cupcake-wrapper porn. It’s almost as bad as the way Charlene and Darren are with each other lately.

  “Keep pushing if you want to see where it gets you later, kitten,” Hayden says.

  Lily shoots me a look, but I have no idea what it means. I’m kind of entertained right now.

  Tenley blinks at him. “Oh, did you want one?”

  Hayden unfurls slowly from his chair, his expression dark. He stalks over to Tenley, who lifts the unwrapped cupcake to her mouth. Before she can take a bite, Hayden grabs her wrist. “I want this one.”

  “It’s mine!”

  “Not any more.” He takes a massive bite, narrowly missing her fingers.

  Tenley shrieks and laughs. “Oh my God! You’re ridiculous!”

  Hayden chews a few times and swallows, then swipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. He looks around, as if realizing there are other people witnessing this display.

  He aims his grin at me. “I fucking love cupcakes.”

  “Especially Tee’s,” Chris says, his eyebrows wagging.

  “Only Tenley’s.” He leans in and whispers something to her.

  Lily’s eyes go even wider, her mouth hanging open, her own cupcake still poised for biting. Lisa leans over and whispers something to her. She giggles and glances my way as she takes a bite of the cupcake and moans. “Oh my God, this is delicious.”

  “Right?” Hayden grabs another one from the container before Tenley can stop him. “I’ll have some drawings for you when the guys come in to talk about their designs. Sound good?” he asks Lily.

  “That sounds great!”

  “Oh! Is Hayden going to design a tattoo for you?” Tenley asks.

  “He is.”

  “He’s a fantastic artist, and I’m not just saying that because I live with him.” Tenley winks.

  “Hayden did Tenley’s back piece.” Lisa motions for her to turn around.

  Tenley shows Lily her back, and there’s much oohing and ahhing as Lily asks about the meaning and how painful it was while she gorges on cupcakes. I love how effortlessly she fits into all the pieces of my life.

  On the way home, Lily’s quiet, fingers drifting over my ink.

  “Everything okay, luscious?”

  “Huh?” She glances at me. “Oh, yeah. Everything’s great. Thanks for letting me tag along today. I had fun.”

  “You excited about the designs Hayden came up with?”

  She nods enthusiastically. “Oh yeah. Definitely. His girlfriend’s tattoo is insane. I can’t believe the detail on that. I can’t even imagine how long something like that would take.”

  “A lot of hours, that’s for sure.” My sleeve took about twenty hours, and while Tenley is petite, it’s a lot of skin to cover.

  “It’s a gorgeous tattoo.”

  “It is,” I agree.

  “Do you think it’s sexy?” She glances at the flower decorating my hand.

  “A full back tattoo? Or Tenley’s specifically?”

  Lily shrugs. “I don’t know. Either? Both?”

  “Sure. I guess. Do you think it’s sexy?”

  She nods. “Those two have insane chemistry.”

  “Yeah.”

  “That cupcake thing was intense. I was worried there was going to be a throw down.” Lily laughs, but it’s a little breathy.

  I slip a hand under her hair and run my thumb down the ridges of her spine. “I bet he can’t give her orgasms just by looking at her.”

  Lily snorts. “Neither can you.”

  “Pretty damn close.”

  “Mmm.” She taps her lip. “Maybe I should get Hayden to design something bigger.”

  “One step at time, luscious. Starting small is probably a good plan.”

  “But if that goes well, I could get something more detailed.”

  “If that’s what you want.” I try to keep my grin contained. I think I may have created a monster, and I’m not even a little bit sorry about that.

  Chapter Four

  hair braiding

  CHRIS

  ONCE HAYDEN FINISHES the consults with Randy and his girlfriend—who makes Lisa look voluptuous—we show him the options for the various tattoos he and his teammates will be getting later in the summer.

  After they leave, I don’t have another appointment scheduled until two in the afternoon, so I figure I can run across the street to see Sarah—the girl I’ve been hanging out with for the past several months.

  It’s not serious. At least that’s how I’m spinning it right now. Mostly we see each other when we can. Since she’s a full-time grad student with a waitressing gig on the side, and I work weird hours as a tattoo artist, even the convenience of her living across the street from my work is often hard to take advantage of. But not today. She’s home, based on the text I just received, and looking forward to a visit. Which I’m hoping will include an orgasm—maybe more than one for Sarah, if I’m on my game this afternoon.

  I use the key to get in the back door and take the stairs at a jog. I have more than an hour before I have to be back. Maybe we can even squeeze in lunch or something—if we have time.

  I don’t bother knocking since Sarah knows I’m on my way over. I open the door to find the living room empty. “Sarah?”

  She comes rushing down the hall from the direction of her bedroom, looking frazzled. I take in her attire. Actually, I take in the entire package. She’s wearing one of my oversized shirts and running a brush through her long, pale blond hair.

  She tosses the brush on the table, but misses, so it drops to the floor.

  “Hey! Hi!” Sarah launches herself at me, throwing her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly. The enthusiastic affection is short lived, and she backs up. “How much time do you have?”

  “I don’t have to be back at the shop until ten to two.”

  She glances at the clock on the stove, and her eyes light up. “That’s more than ninety whole minutes! What should we do?”

  “Hmm.” I tap my lip. “Maybe I can braid your hair, and we can talk about our life goals.”

  Sarah wrinkles her nose. “Or maybe you can check to see whether I’m wearing panties or not.”

  “So hair braiding is out?”

  “Uh, yeah, unless it’s a euphemism for taking your clothes off.” She grabs my hand and pulls me toward her bedroom.

  “What if I just want to talk?”

  “You can do that naked.”

  “Don’t you want to know how my morning was?” I ask as she pulls me through the doorway and into her pretty,
feminine bedroom. The sheets are still rumpled, despite it being after noon. Sarah works late hours, and it’s Saturday, so she doesn’t have classes to contend with today.

  Turning, she pushes up on her toes to kiss my jaw. “How was your morning?”

  Sarah’s a tall girl. She’s long and willowy, and she probably could’ve been a model. The career she’s choosing has better longevity, though. An MBA will go a lot further for a lot longer. And once she’s done, her side job serving drinks at a strip club will be history. I’m the only person she takes her clothes off for, though. Thank fuck.

  “One of the professional hockey players we do work for came in for a consult.” This is actually something I’m pretty excited about, although I’m not sure Sarah gives much of a shit about hockey.

  Sarah slides her hands under my shirt, her nails running over my abs. “Seriously? Back for more?”

  “Yeah.”

  She stops her quest to get my shirt off, her palms flat on my chest. “Holy crap. That’s really cool. Which player? Was it Waters again?”

  “Ballistic was in today, but a bunch of the guys from the team are coming in at the end of summer, and they’re all getting work done.”

  “That’s amazing.” She edges her hand up a little more. “That’s kind of like having celebrities in the shop, right?”

  “Kind of.”

  “I’m glad things are going so well. You deserve something good right now.” She’s sincere, even though she’s still working on getting my shirt off—and she’s not just talking about sex.

  The past few months have been challenging for personal reasons, so good things haven’t been all that easy to come by. Sarah’s one of those rare good things, and since I don’t get to see her all that often, I choose not to fill our time with depressing talk.

  “You got anything else good you wanna give me?” I slip a finger in to the waistband of her shorts, pulling them out so I can check to see if she’s lying about the lack of panties. I get a glimpse of white cotton. They’re my fucking favorite. “Playing tricks on me with these, huh?” I edge a finger under the elastic.

  “Keeping you on your toes.” She gives my shirt another tug, and this time I help with getting it over my head. Sarah sighs and smooths her hands over my shoulders and down my biceps, her eyes tracking the movement on my right arm—the one with the full sleeve. Then she continues over my chest until she reaches the waist of my jeans, popping the button.

  We take our time, which is a luxury. Mostly we get middle-of-the-night sessions or quickies between tightly scheduled clients. When I’m done loving on her body, she rests her cheek on my chest.

  “I can hear your heart,” she whispers.

  “What’s it saying?” I smooth my hand over her hair.

  “The same thing over and over. I think it’s trying to put me to sleep.” She pushes up on an elbow, her lids heavy. “When are you going to design a tattoo for me?”

  It’s a question she’s asked before, more than once. I keep putting her off—not because I don’t want to put art on her, but because I do. The temptation to make myself permanent in her life in some way is hard to resist.

  “When I get more than two hours at a time with you.”

  Sarah kisses my chin. “My internship isn’t far off, and once it’s over I should have loads of time, relatively speaking.”

  “I guess you better figure out what you want then, ’cause I’m booked up until halfway through the summer already.” I try not to think about what’s going to happen to this thing we have when her internship is finished and her job prospects open up.

  “You don’t think you can fit me in somewhere between now and then?”

  “You think you get special privileges or something?”

  She bites my shoulder. “I better get special privileges.”

  I check the clock on her nightstand and change the subject. “I still got another half hour. You want me to braid your hair now?”

  Sarah throws her leg over my hip. “I can think of way better ways to spend all that time.”

  I let her pull me on top of her again, and then I distract her from conversations about body art with my hands and mouth.

  Chapter Five

  we need in on that

  VIOLET

  ALEX, MY EXTRAORDINARILY awesome, professional-hockey-playing husband, left at some god-awful hour this morning to hit the green with the guys. Apparently golf is an all-day event, so we’re having a girls’ afternoon. It’s not super hot out, but it’s sunny, and Alex cranked up the heat in the pool. Plus we have those outdoor heater things stationed around us to make it feel like July even though it’s not even close.

  “I don’t understand the purpose of golf,” I muse aloud.

  “It’s like every other sport with sticks and balls. You aim for a hole, and if you get it in, you score.” Charlene flips onto her stomach and unties the top of her bikini so she can avoid lines. If she were alone—or at Darren’s—she’d probably go without a top.

  “Sounds like you’re talking about sex, not golf,” Lily snickers. She’s on her third drink, so she’s nice and loopy.

  “You think everything is about sex thanks to Horny Nut Sac,” I shoot back. It’s my favorite nickname for Randy, her boyfriend and Alex’s teammate.

  “I think all sports with balls and sticks are a lot the same, aren’t they?” Sunny says from under the shade of her umbrella. She’s rocking a pretty sweet baby belly since my brother, Buck, who everyone else has taken to calling Miller since that happens to be his real name, knocked her up. She only has a few months to go before she pops the cork on this one.

  I consider the similarities, particularly between golf and hockey. “I guess golf is kind of like playing hockey, except with smaller sticks, and balls instead of pucks, and grass instead of ice, and a tiny hole instead of a gaping one.”

  Lily chokes on her drink and ends up spit-spraying it all over herself. “No one likes gaping holes!”

  Charlene snickers along with her, but Sunny purses her lips. “Maybe you should have water after that one.”

  “You’re probably right,” Lily agrees.

  “It just seems boring. I’ve never seen anyone fight on a green.” I tip my bottle back and drain the last of my drink.

  “Once Miller put Randy in a headlock for sending him into the weeds,” Lily says. “But that’s the best I’ve got.”

  “Yeah. Like I said, boring. And what’s with the plaid requirement?” I ask.

  “Darren looks good in plaid,” Charlene says.

  “Personally I think Randy looks hot in one of those golf shirts and plaid shorts, especially with the sleeve…” Lily trails off.

  “Do you need a minute alone?” I grin evilly. “Oh wait, you don’t actually need physical contact to have an orgasm, so you can just daydream your way to one and we won’t even know unless you get all moany.”

  Lily lifts her sunglasses and quirks a brow. “At what point does the laundry room orgasm stop being a source of entertainment for you?”

  Last Christmastime Randy locked Lily in our laundry room. In the three minutes they were alone, he managed to give her an orgasm—fully dressed. How do I know this? We busted down the door and witnessed the voodoo magic.

  “Seriously, though, Lily, I need to know how you do that,” Charlene says.

  “Do what?”

  “Have spontaneous orgasms.” Charlene props herself up on her elbows and we all get a look at her boobs before she realizes she’s showing us her nipples. Her pierced nipples.

  “When the hell did you get your nipples pierced?” I ask.

  Apparently I’m rather loud about it, because she throws the closest thing at me, which happens to be Andy’s ball. He jumps up and bounds after it when it ricochets off my chair and lands in the pool.

  Charlene looks down and back up. “A while ago.”

  “And you didn’t tell me? Is Darren into that?” Sometimes I wonder about those two.

  Her grin is all smi
rky. “It’s not like body piercing is something I’m just going to drop into conversation. And yes, Darren likes them.”

  Lily perks right up. “Did it hurt?”

  “The clamp is a little uncomfortable, but otherwise it wasn’t too bad.”

  Lily frowns. “Clamp?”

  “They use a clamp to pinch the skin before they feed the needle through.”

  Lily puts her hand over her modestly sized boobs. I’m not saying that to be mean. She has little boobs, just like the rest of her.

  “Doesn’t that hurt?” she asks.

  Charlene shrugs. “I have a pretty high pain tolerance, so I didn’t find it too bad.”

  “I wonder if Alex would lose his shit over something like this.” I move from my chair to the patio and sit in front of Charlene. “Sit up. I want to check those out.”

  “What?”

  “Sit up and show me your nipples.”

  Charlene rolls her eyes, but she complies. We’ve been friends for a very long time. She trussed me up in weird fetish gear with all the leather and chains very recently when I got hitched in Vegas, so she can sure as hell show me her blinged-out nips.

  She gets into a cross-legged position to match mine, and I lean in until I’m only a few inches away from her boobs. Charlene has nice boobs. They’re a lot smaller than mine, but bigger than Lily’s. And her nipples are also more nipply than mine.

  “Can I look, too?” Lily asks.

  “Might as well while they’re hanging out,” Charlene replies.

  Lily sets down her drink and weaves her way over to us. Even half-wasted she’s way more graceful than I am.

  She plunks herself down beside me, and we stare at Charlene’s boobs. “Wow. So it doesn’t hurt that much?”

  “Like I said, I have a high pain tolerance.”

  Lily keeps up with the questions. “Are they super sensitive afterward?”

  “Well, yeah, but that’s the point.”

  Sunny cups her boobs protectively. “My boobs are so sensitive these days, I can’t even imagine.”

  “Yeah. I definitely wouldn’t recommend you get your nipples pierced right now.” Charlene says.

 

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