Pucked Love (Pucked 6)

As I observe my mother in her element, I recognize how she and I are very much polar opposites. Where she’s spent the years since leaving The Ranch flitting from town to town, putting men in their place, I’ve put down roots, found stability, and tried to build a somewhat normal relationship. I’m not so sure I’m ever destined to be successful at the last part, but I’m certainly trying. I created a non-traditional family of my own so I wouldn’t have to be alone.

We stop at a boutique called Leather & Laces and browse for a while. Lily takes an armful of outfits and disappears into a changing room. They have all sorts of sexy leather corsets and fun stuff. Darren prefers pretty and lacy. It’s not that he doesn’t like the leather, he clearly does—the peen doesn’t lie—but his eyes light up in a different way when I’m in lace or satin. I always end up the recipient of an insane number of orgasms on those occasions.

The curtain beside us sweeps open a bit, and Lily’s head pops out. “I need an opinion.”

“What’s going on in there?” I try to peek around her, but she’s holding it like she’s in The Shining, wearing the same creepy smile.

“You have to come in.”

We’ve all been in various stages of nakedness on multiple occasions with each other, so it’s not a big deal. I slip through the curtain, and Violet follows. The changing room is cramped with three bodies.

Vi’s eyes go wide. “Holy shit.”

“Is that good holy shit or a bad holy shit?” Lily tugs at the collar around her neck. “Is this overkill?”

I actually have almost the exact same corset ensemble. I’ve worn it a couple of times for Darren. I’m a big fan of the collar with the metal ring at the throat. There’s something empowering about letting someone you care about deeply take control of your body and cater to your needs. And this outfit screams submission and trust.

“There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?” I cock a brow.

“Uhh . . .” Lily glances from me to Violet and back again.

“Send a picture to Balls and see what he has to say?” Violet asks.

Lily chews on her lip and then hands me her phone. “Okay.”

She strikes sexy poses while I snap a bunch of pictures. We scroll through them and comment on how it makes her cleavage look great before she picks one to send to Randy.

It takes all of thirty seconds before he responds.Lily grins as she types her reply, and Violet and I leave her to change back into normal clothes. Skye is already at the register with her own purchase.

“I gotta say, I’m super glad I don’t live in my parents’ pool house anymore,” Violet says.

“Right?”

We find Poppy and Sunny huddled with sleeping baby Logan over by the sweeter sexy things in pinks and greens and florals. I glance around, wondering how soon we can get out of here now that I’ve seen my mom. I note a couple in the porn star area. There are actual stars signing posters and old school DVDs, and even some VHS tapes for the serious diehard fans. Which is kind of sad.

“Hey.” Violet elbows me and points to the right. “Doesn’t that guy look like an older version of Darren?”

I follow her gaze and note the couple, probably in their fifties, posing for pictures. The woman is outfitted in a silver mini-dress and has definitely had her boobs done, and likely a lot of other things, including her face, but she still looks mostly human. The guy is tall, wearing only black leather pants with a zebra stripe down the side. He’s still rocking a pretty decent body for being older, complete with four pack, even if it’s the tiniest bit saggy.

I scan all the way to his face and take in his dark, slicked-back hair. “Huh. That’s weird. He does look a lot like him.”

“You need to take a picture with that guy. Tell Darren you found his future self—and he’s a porn star! The resemblance is uncanny, isn’t it?” Violet turns to Poppy and Sunny, who both nod their agreement.

I give in and let her drag me over. My mom seems to know them personally, so she flits on over and introduces us. “Rod and Cherry, this is my daughter, Charlene. She needs a photo with you!” Rod and Cherry. I guess subtlety isn’t their thing. My mom squeezes me between them and snaps a million pictures.

I send one to Darren with a laughing emoji and the caption: Your next profession could be a porn stunt double for this guy.

“So you’re a Chicago hockey fan, Charlene?” Rod’s smile is blindingly white and eerily like Darren’s.

“I am.”

Rod leans in closer. “Can you keep a secret?”

It’s starting to creep me out how much he looks like Darren. His voice is even deep like Darren’s, and he has the same icy eyes.