Pucked Over (Pucked 3)

“Seven?” It sounds like a vulgar expletive.

Oh, God. He looks pissed. This is way too fun. I should probably stop while I’m ahead, but I can’t. “Seven-point-two?”

“Don’t kid yourself, Lily. That was a ten-point-oh. No questions.”

“You think you’re that good a lay, do you?”

“I’m not talking about my performance; I’m talking about yours.” He puts his mouth to my ear. “Oooh, Raaandy.”

It’s actually a decent impression of me, though highly embarrassing.

“But seriously, you had fun?” His fingertips are soft on my cheek.

“Yeah, I had fun.”

He smiles, and it’s beautiful. “Good. That’s what I want. As long as you’re having a good time with me. We’re just going to have some easy fun, okay? If that changes or, like, the sex drops below nine-point-oh or things start getting too intense or whatever, you let me know.”

I think it’s already intense, but I get what he’s saying without him having to spell it out. We’re just enjoying each other, and this—what we’re doing right now—is as far as it’s going to go. Which I already knew.

A knock on the door prevents me from responding.

Randy opens his mouth to speak, so I do the most reasonable thing I can think of: I grab his hair and bring his face to mine. He still tries to talk, but it’s a lot more challenging with my tongue in his mouth.

He doesn’t fight me on the kissing. Instead he starts back up with the humping. I’m not nearly as full as I was before—I’m assuming that’s because he’s getting soft—but it still feels good. I forget there’s a reason for the spontaneous making out until another more-vigorous knock startles me.

“Lily? Are you in there?”

Randy pulls away and grins. I put a hand over his mouth to keep him from talking.

After a few seconds of silence Sunny says, “They’re about to serve dinner.”

Then she’s talking to someone in the hall. “I have no idea. I saw her the last time you saw her. I’m calling her phone.”

“At least she waited until it was over,” Randy whispers from behind my hand.

“Shh!”

He sticks his tongue between my fingers. I snatch my hand away and press my face into his shoulder, biting him to keep from laughing.

All of a sudden my phone starts ringing. I push on Randy’s chest, and he rolls off me. I scramble across the room to get it, even though it’s too late.

“I know you’re in there, Lily! I can hear your phone!” Sunny rattles the knob.

I cut the call, which is pointless. I look over at Randy, and I’m sure my eyes are wide. I don’t know what I’m so worried about. It’s not like Sunny doesn’t know I was planning to do the dirty with Randy. She provided her opinion, which is that I should treat it as a fling, because logically that’s what it is—and Randy’s confirmed this. I’m good with that. It’s not my usual thing, but I’m living a little.

“Give us a minute!” Randy calls out in his still-raspy sex voice.

“Balls?” Miller asks.

“Yeah.”

“Seriously? You two couldn’t wait until later to bone each other?”

“We were just talking,” Randy calls back.

“Bullshit!” Miller rattles the door this time.

“Miller! You’re gonna break the handle off!”

“I’m fucking around, sweets.”

Randy pulls his boxers up and tucks himself away. I don’t get so much as a glimpse of his unit before it disappears. He picks up my dress from the floor, his gaze roaming over my totally naked body. He passes it to me and tweaks one of my nipples while my hands are occupied. I suck in a breath, and he smirks. Then he reaches for the doorknob.

“What’re you doing? I’m naked!” I whisper-shout, gripping his arm. The one covered in tattoos. The one with the fingers that were inside me not all that long ago.

“I’m not letting them in. I’m just gonna talk to Miller not through a door.”

We’re both sweaty. My hair feels damp. It smells like sex and latex in here. Randy’s hair is a mess. I’m sure my vagina is all over his beard. He’s got scratch and bite marks on his shoulders. Apparently I’m aggressive during sex.

“Well, wait until I have some clothes on, please!” The dress is inside out, and the lamplight doesn’t make it any easier to figure out which way around it’s supposed to be. Randy turns on the overhead light to help.

“The price tag is still on that,” he points out.

“I know. I’m returning it when I get home.”

“What? Why? You’re smokin’ hot in that dress.”

“It’s not like I’ll have anywhere to wear it again.”

He reaches over and yanks the tag free. “You can wear it tomorrow night, when I take you out for dinner.”

He crumples the tag in his fist and flips the lock, opening the door.

I shove my hands through the straps and pull the top up so my boobs aren’t on display. Sunny may have seen them before, but I don’t need Miller checking me out.