Pucked Over (Pucked 3)

I bite my knuckles to stop myself from saying yes. Of all the bad ideas, going to his hotel definitely tops the list. I’m guaranteed to make all kinds of bad decisions. Including the one I want to make the most, which is letting him get inside me. I don’t know if it’s normal to be this attracted to another human being.

I go with snark, because it’s safe. “So I’m guessing you didn’t find a bunny to ride your dick?

Randy chuckles. “Nope. My dick told me he didn’t want a bunny. He’s holding out for you.”

I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see me. “Does that line work?”

“It’s not a line. Me and my dick are tight. We had a very serious conversation.”

I laugh. “Well, you should tell him not to hold his breath. He’ll turn blue.”

“He’s already blue. You should come by my hotel and see.”

“You can send me a picture.” I’m almost hoping he does.

“It’s not the same. What if I come see you instead?”

I can’t even imagine someone like Randy in a bedroom like mine. “You’re persistent, aren’t you?”

“Is that you saying yes?”

I hesitate for a second, knowing full well if I agree it’s a booty call. “I can’t. I have to wash my hair.”

“Oh, man. The hair-washing excuse? And here I thought we had fun together. Well, if I can’t convince you to come to see me, I’m gonna go take care of my own problem. Night, Lily. See you in a couple weeks.”

The reminder that we’ll be seeing each other at the engagement party is yet another reason I shouldn’t keep entertaining this possibility.

“Night, Blue Balls,” I shoot back.

“So clever. Not for long. I’ll be thinking of you.”

Randy hangs up. I send him a meme of an old lady with no teeth with the caption “Let’s Make Out.”

Ten minutes later, I get one back of his middle finger on the hand with the tattoo. That finger has been inside me recently. He’s taken it while lying in his hotel bed with only a sheet covering him from the waist down. His tight abs and the deep, heavily muscled V are captured beautifully. I can see, very clearly, a lump that resembles the shape of his cock under that white cotton. I can also see his blurred reflection in the mirror. His hair is loose and messy, brushing his chin. He’s the picture of absolute relaxation.

I don’t send a response. Instead I shut down my computer, lock my door, and get out my magic bullet. I pull the covers over my head and get myself off while staring at that damn picture on my phone.Chapter 4What The Hell is Normal Anyway?LILYThe next morning my phone wakes me up. I feel around for it on my nightstand. It’s not there. I find it under my pillow, where I left it after I rolled my marble to Randy’s middle finger. Three times. I think I have a problem.

“’Lo?” I mumble.

“Are you still asleep?” Sunny asks.

“Not anymore.” Sunny gets up stupidly early even on the days she doesn’t have to work. I’m lucky she waited this long to call.

“Great! Get dressed. I’m picking you up in fifteen minutes. I made cinnamon buns, and we’re having family brunch. And make sure you bring a bathing suit since all mine fall off you.”

“It’s freezing out.”

“It’s hardly freezing, Lily. It’s going to be eighteen degrees today.”

“That’s not pool weather.”

“We cranked the water heater. It’s like a sauna.”

“Wait. What about Randy? Is he going to be there?” My vagina gets all excited by the thought.

“He flew back to Chicago this morning. You will be telling me what happened last night. See you soon.” She hangs up.

I lie there for a minute and stare at the ceiling, working up the energy to get out of bed and take a quick shower. Instead, I check my messages from last night. Not just to look at Randy’s middle finger and naked chest, or the hint of peen under the white sheet. Although that’s part of the reason. I have a message from him. It’s another picture. It’s a close up of his neck and jaw. He’s wearing a T-shirt. Red lines travel from his ear and disappear under his collar. It was sent at six this morning.I’m collecting 4 damages next time I cu.Oh, man. Those are scratches. From me. I wonder exactly what collecting for damages entails. I don’t have the guts to ask, either. I’m certain the answer will make me regret not taking him up on his offer of a visit last night.

I toss my phone aside and roll out of bed. I shuffle to the bathroom across the hall. The apartment is quiet. I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I turn on the shower. My hair is sticking up all over the place. On second thought, if Randy woke up next to me looking like this, it’d be the last invite I got.