Page 113

Story: Bad Little Puck Bunny

“How do you feel?”

My throat tightens at the question.

He watches me carefully. “Did you like it?”

I swallow. “Yeah.”

A beat of silence.

“And the other part?” His voice drops. “Having both of us for your first time?”

Heat surges up my neck. My nails dig into the jersey, but I force myself to nod. I liked it a lot.

He smirks. “Knew you would.”

His fingers tilt my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Next time,” he murmurs, “we’ll push it further.”

“Okay, but Eli?”

“Yes, baby.”

“That better be the last time you tattoo me without my consent.”

He laughs. “Promise.”

I shift against him, adjusting in his lap. My body aches, sore but warm, my skin still buzzing from everything that just happened. Eli watches me, his expression unreadable.

I lean in, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to his mouth.

He exhales against my lips, his fingers tightening on my thigh.

“Tell me something… anything,” I say suddenly.

His jaw flexes. “Like what?”

“Something real.”

His whole body goes still. Then, he swallows, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

“My dad’s on trial.”

I blink, thrown. “What?”

He exhales sharply. “That’s why I moved away from New York. I needed to get away from everything back home. The press. The accusations.”

I search his face, trying to piece it together. “What did he do?”

“Financial fraud. Money laundering. That’s what they’re saying, at least.”

A chill spreads through me. “And you think he did it?”

His silence is louder than an answer.

I grip his wrist. “Eli—”

“I don’t know if he’s innocent.”

The weight of that settles between us. I don’t know what to say.