Egotistical Puckboy (Puckboys 1)

His dark gaze flicks to mine again for a brief moment, and the suspicion and dash of vulnerability has me giving him exactly what he wants.

I lower my head and lick along his slit while I still work him over with my hand. His cock is the most amazing dick I’ve ever seen, but no way in hell will I tell him that. The head is swollen and red, and there’s one thick vein running down the underside.

As I suck him into my mouth and ease down his long length, I move my hand into his pants and grip his balls.

I get lost in his scent, his sharp breaths, and the faint salty taste of precum. The choked noises he lets out, the strangled gasps of shock, like he was under the impression I didn’t have skills until now, only spurs me on to give him the best damn blowjob of his life. Even if it is awkward as hell in a moving car.

“Shit, red light.” Anton hits the brakes, and the sudden stop forces his cock into the back of my throat.

I choke and splutter until the car stops, then yank off him, hitting my head on the steering wheel and setting off the horn.

“You’re so right,” Anton says dryly. “This is so much better than sex in a bed.”

I laugh. “At least it’s not boring.”

“Mm, concussions are known to be fun. How’s your head?”

“Never had any complaints,” I quip. I sit up, moving back onto my side, and rub the back of my skull.

“My place is literally around the corner,” Anton says.

When he pulls into his parking spot in the underground garage, he turns the car off and then tucks himself away. His cock has deflated since the red light incident.

I stare at him, at the slight hesitance on his face, and in the low light, with his dark hair unstyled and falling across his forehead, he looks like a billboard model for expensive vodka. Or clothes.

“Changing your mind?” I taunt. “You can still kick me out.”

“Somehow, I don’t think getting rid of you is as easy as that.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself I’m that pushy.” I lean back in my seat and rub my cock through my pants. “It has nothing to do with wanting this. Nothing to do with wanting to make me come again.”

Anton’s gaze doesn’t leave my crotch as he says, “Nothing at all.” He clears his throat. “Get upstairs. Now.”

I grab my bag from the back. Anton leaves his, and I have to hurry to catch up to him. “In a rush?”

“Yes.”

The elevator is empty when we step in.

“Perfect,” I purr and try to pull him close.

He shoves me off him and says, “Cameras.”

Damn.

I keep my distance until he unlocks his door and steps aside to let me in.

Everything is the same as it was when I was here last. Nothing is packed, and everything is in its place.

“You do know you live in Boston now, right? Aren’t you bringing all this stuff with you?”

“Do you want to talk about my furniture or do you want me to fuck you?”

“Why can’t we do both?”

“Why do you care?”

“Mm, growly Anton really gets me hot.”

He gives me a blank look.

“Frustrated Anton is even hotter.”

Anton grabs my wrist with his big hand and pulls me down a hallway. “Get in there.” He opens a door to his master bedroom.

“Ooh, yay, sex in a bed. Did we learn nothing from the car ride here?”

Anton ignores me. “Strip.”

I turn to find him scrambling out of his suit, so I take my time, loving the way he glares at me when he’s completely naked and I still have my pants on.

Instead of complaining, he dips his fingers into my waistband and pulls me against him.

Chest to chest, skin to skin, the prickle of anticipation rushes through me. My lips tingle as I expect him to close the gap and kiss me, but then that makes me realize we didn’t kiss the last time we hooked up.

My stomach flips as he leans in. Closer. Almost there.

Then his head drops, and he stares as he pushes my pants and underwear down, freeing my cock.

“Go over to the window,” he orders.

“You going to push me out of it?”

“Mm, that fantasy actually turns me on more than the thought of taking your tight ass again.”

“What about fucking me and then throwing me out the window?”

Anton laughs. “Nrg, I think I might come.”

I go stand by the wide ceiling-to-floor window. He has a small balcony off his bedroom, so at least I know if he gives in to his fantasy, I won’t fall twenty-something stories to my death.

Maybe I should be concerned I’m willing to have sex with someone I’m only ten percent sure won’t turn homicidal on me, but I’m not.

Anton rummages around in a drawer behind me, but I can’t take my gaze off the city. Even when Anton steps up behind me and presses his hard cock against my ass cheek.