Pucked (Pucked 1)

Oh. My. God. He’s terrifyingly hot. Like The Hulk, but sexy, not green.

I’m so going to get laid in a locker room.

Go me.ALEXToronto’s center must have hit me harder than I thought because I’m pretty sure I’m hallucinating.

“Alex, baby, are you okay?” My hallucination takes a tentative step toward me and touches my chest. Her hand warms my already overheated skin.

You can’t feel hallucinations. At least I don’t think you can, which means Violet is really here. I’m almost naked and extremely pissed. I hope she hasn’t witnessed too much of my temper tantrum.

“I thought you weren’t coming.”

She bites her bottom lip. I reach out to skim the plush curve. Fuck, I’ve missed her mouth. I’ve missed her everything.

“I wanted to surprise you. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea.” Her fingers slide from my sweaty shoulder to my neck. “You beat the hell out of that guy. He was bleeding, and you hardly have a mark on you.”

“He pissed me off.” As if it wasn’t obvious from the ass-kicking I served. That’s what happens when an asshole makes derogatory comments about "tag-teaming my newest puck bunny." I didn’t handle it well. Especially since I was under the impression I wasn’t going to see Violet for several more days. Cockburn and I have had a long-standing dislike for each other ever since I was traded to the Hawks instead of him. I’m a better player, and he knows it.

“I could tell. What happened out there?”

“Cockburn was being a dick. I told him how I felt about it with my fists.”

“Cockburn? His last name is almost as unfortunate as Butterson. He must have done something pretty awful to make you so upset.”

“He was running his mouth. It’s what he does best.”

“I’m sorry they kicked you out of the game.” She rests her palm against my chest, right over my heart. “Watching you . . . it made me—” Her head drops, and she peeks up at me through her lashes. “You were so angry. I really shouldn’t find that sexy, should I?”

The rage that’s been rocking my ability to make rational decisions ebbs in the wake of her question, only to be replaced with a different, acute need.

“I missed you,” Violet says softly as she pushes up on her tiptoes, and I bend to meet her.

I have no restraint. At all.

Two weeks with only the uncomfortable chafing of my own hand is a poor replacement for Violet. The way she tastes, the way she feels against my body and in my arms, combined with the frustration over being ejected from the game and the fight, is like an emotional, hormonal, adrenaline bomb.

“Fuck, I missed you.”

I grab her ass and pull her in tight. Her lips part and I seek out her tongue with my own. There’s no softness in this kiss; I’m pent up and on overload. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I lift her off the ground. Her feet dangle a few inches above the floor as I cross the room, away from the entrance and the security detail—who clearly aren’t doing their job since Violet is in here.

I set her down in front of the lockers and she shoves her hips into mine. “Ow!”

“Cup.”

She feels around between us. “Of course, good idea. Protect your snuffie.”

“My what?”

“Your snuffie. Your cock.”

“Huh?”

“You know. Like Suffleupagus.”

She nibbles my lip, probably as a distraction from the comparison of my most prized body part to a children’s show character.

“My cock in no way resembles a fuzzy, make-believe elephant.” I take care of my shit.

“It’s uncut, so it’s a snuffie, and it’s like a mythological creature, being so monstrous and all.”

“You’re not nicknaming my dick Snuffie, just so we’re—” I yank her shirt over her head.

I’m met with the most amazing bra I’ve ever seen. Ever. It’s awesome. It’s red and white and frilly and mesh so I can see her nipples through the fabric. Her boobs are nestled in there, just waiting for my hands and mouth to be on them.

“I missed you, too,” I tell them as I press my face into her chest and taste her warm skin. Violet makes those fantastic sounds I love.

“I love this bra,” I say from between her boobs.

“I thought you might.”

I walk her backward until she hits the lockers. She pushes her chest out, gripping my hair. As much as I want to admire the way she looks in this bra, I want her naked more. I can take my time later this weekend, when I have a bed, the privacy of my condo, and unlimited hours in which to enjoy every inch of her body. I need to get inside her. Now.

The cup is a problem, and if I don’t get it off soon, I’ll end up with a sprained dick. I have no desire to be relegated to mouth and finger duty for the rest of the weekend. My cock will not stand for it. The cup is secured with snaps; I struggle with them while still trying to kiss Violet.