Pucked Over (Pucked 3)

He’s also a little weird about me touching his cock. I have no idea why, but any hand-job action is short-lived and always while the lights are down. And when I offer to go down on him, he tells me some other time since he’ll taste like latex.

I’m not about to ruin all the awesome orgasms and sex we’re having by asking personal questions, so I leave it alone.

It’s after five in the morning by the time we finally finish a box of condoms, save one. I need at least three solid hours of sleep or I’m going to be a mess at the arena. Randy slips an arm under my pillow and pulls me to him. I’m naked, still, and so is he, but I have no more energy left for sex. My vagina will fall off my body. He seems to be done—for now—so this time when I fall asleep, I’m not awakened by his mouth next to my ear, asking me if I wanna have more fun yet.Chapter 15Just a RideLILYEight comes horribly fast. I cut my alarm and look over at Randy, still out cold. His full lips are parted, his tattooed arm thrown out to the side. There’s a hockey scene captured on his forearm, and a Toronto emblem, as well as the one for New York. It’s still too dark for me to make out the rest.

I leave him where he is and tiptoe to the bathroom. My hair’s a mess. I look like I’ve been boned from here all the way to the North Pole. And not freshly either—in a used well and ridden like a cheap hooker kind of way. I also smell like a big, huge pile of sex. I take a quick shower and call a cab. I don’t want to wake Randy up to have him drive me in.

I put on my crappy jogging pants and hoodie, thankful that I have a spare skating outfit in my locker. There’s nothing I can do about the lack of underwear, since I forgot about washing them, but I’ve dealt with worse issues.

I pack my bag in a rush, knowing I’m cutting it close. I debate whether or not to leave without saying goodbye. I decide I don’t want to. I wouldn’t like it if Randy did that to me. Although I’m a girl, and we’re different.

I creep around to his side of the bed. My plan is to whisper a goodbye and thanks, but I note the tented sheets at his waist. He’s asleep with a hard-on. I lift the soft cotton carefully, but I’m disappointed to find he’s got his boxers back on. It’s like the damn Loch Ness monster. Everyone says it’s real, but they’ve never seen it to prove it.

I reach under the covers, ready to sneak a peek, but Randy snatches my hand. “If you want it, all you have to do is ask.” He pulls me down and rolls on top of me.

“I was saying bye. I have to leave for work.”

He nuzzles his face into my neck and gives me a couple of humps through the sheets and my clothes. “No. Don’t go.”

“I have to.”

“I wanna fuck some more.”

I laugh. He’s all groggy and uncoordinated—aside from the hip grinding. That’s very coordinated. “I called a cab. I have to leave, like, two minutes ago.”

“I’ll drive you in.”

“You’re not even conscious.”

“My dick is. He’ll drive.”

I push on his chest, but he’s not budging. “If I’m late I could lose my job.”

He stops grinding and rolls off me. “Now I have to deal with this alone.” He pats his hard-on.

“Just go back to sleep; it’ll go away.”

“What time are you done?”

“One, but I work a shift at my other job at four.”

“I’ll come get you.”

“Don’t you need to go back to Chicago?”

“I’ll fly or something.” He shoves his hand down the front of his boxers. “See you at one, luscious Lily.”

“Whatever you say, raucous Randy.” I turn to leave.

“Wait.”

“Hmm?”

He taps his cheek lazily. “I wanna kiss before you leave.”

I lean over and plant one there, then drop another on his lips. “Thanks for all the fun.”

“Anytime.”

***

Since he was half-asleep when I left this morning, I don’t really expect him to show up at my work. So when he arrives at eleven-thirty with coffee and a bag and sits in the stands, all the butterflies in the world take up residence in my stomach.

We had an insane amount of sex. I’ve never in my life used an entire box of condoms in one night. Three, maybe, but never more than that. All my muscles ache, but the pain isn’t something I mind.

At the end of the lesson, I skate over to Randy. He looks fresh, cleaned up, and a whole lot less disheveled than I did this morning. “I brought you something.” He passes me the bag.