Page 3

I follow Tripp into the small bar we sometimes like to stop at, and right away, I’m met with the smell of cigarettes, liquor, and greasy mozzarella sticks.

It’s the type of place the bottoms of your shoes stick to as you walk across the floor, but it’s quaint and usually quiet, especially on a weeknight, when it’s just a few regulars.

Tripp is broody anyway, but tonight, he’s been overly pissy, and since arriving here, he seems to have grown more and more sketched out.

As we each take a seat on a barstool, Tripp pulls his ball cap down a little lower, which is dumb because everyone in this hole-in-the-wall bar knows who the fucker is.

How would they not recognize Portland’s own star goalie for the Sharks?

But he likes to think he’s incognito, so I’ll leave him be.

“What’ll it be tonight, fellas?” Jayce, the bartender, asks while he pours a tall glass of beer for someone else.

“I’ll take a Bud Light,” Tripp drones, looking at me and raising a perceptive eyebrow.

“I’ll take a Sunny Beach,” I say proudly, aware that Tripp’s about to bust my balls because I always order the fruitiest shit on the menu.

All my buddies drink beer or straight liquor.

I love myself a fruity drink—bonus points if there’s an umbrella in it too.

I’m confident in my manhood to carry that shit around a bar.

“Figured as much.” Jayce smirks.

When he walks away, I look down the bar to see who’s here.

I take in the usuals.

Like the old man who’s always here, night after night, sitting alone.

As usual, he’s got a drink in front of him, but he’s never sloppy drunk.

There are a few dudes who are grinning while they chat, looking over at Tripp and me every few words they speak, but when my gaze shifts to the edge of the bar, I frown when I take in the sight of Smith’s little sister, Saylor, all by herself, with an empty glass in front of her seconds before the other bartender switches it out for a fresh one.

The bell on the top of the door jingles, alerting us that someone else has arrived, but I can’t take my eyes off of her.

Anytime I see her, she’s like a ray of sunshine.

Tonight though … she just looks defeated.

“Stop staring at Sawyer’s little sister like that,” he drawls sharply, a hint of warning laced in his tone, even through his accent.

Both of us are Southern boys, now living in Maine.

He came from Alabama, and I came from Kentucky.

I’m not entirely sure either of us likes freezing our asses off in New England for half of the year, but here we are.

“I’m not starin’,” I say, rolling my eyes at him.

“Just wondering why she’s alone—that’s all.” I look at her again.

“And she looks sad. Really sad.”

“After everything fuckstick Rowan Epscott did to her, why wouldn’t she look sad?” he scoffs.

“What kind of man pulls the shit he did—” His words die in his throat, and his body tenses.

“I mean, you know, with dumping her the way he did.”

“What kind of man dumps a woman like that at all?” I say, thinking out loud and staring at Saylor like a complete goner.

I look back at Tripp to find him watching me suspiciously.

“Are you into her or something, Cambridge?”

“No,” I grumble quickly, “I am not.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he utters.

“Either way, stay away from her. All the drama with Rowan and Smith has been bad enough. Smith is your best friend, so don’t be trying to fuck his sister. She’s been through enough.”

“Wasn’t planning on it, dick,” I say, quickly taking hold of my drink when Jayce sets it down in front of me.

Bringing it to my lips, I take a long sip before standing up.

“But I am going to go say hi. You know, make sure she’s all right.”

“Here we fucking go,” he says under his breath.

Before he can say something to stop me, I head toward her.

Her blonde hair looks like she just ran her hands through it, making it messy yet gorgeous.

Her cheeks are slightly flushed from the liquor she’s downing as she stares straight ahead.

Taking a seat on the stool next to hers, I playfully knock my shoulder against hers.

“All alone tonight, little Sawyer?”

“That makes me sound like I’m a little boy,” she says in a grouchy tone, scrunching her perfect button nose up.

Who the fuck am I, and why am I thinking about her nose being cute or looking like a button?

Jesus, get it together, Ryder.

“You’re most definitely not a little boy,” I say, keeping my voice low and quickly changing the subject.

“Why are you here, drinking all by yourself?”

“Because humans suck,” she deadpans.

“Well, ones with penises do at least.”

“I have a penis. A big one at that,” I toss back.

“And I don’t suck.”

“Listen to yourself.” She tsks me before narrowing her eyes to slits.

“I rest my case. Boys suck.”

When she turns forward again, not looking at me, I lean closer to her, bringing my mouth near her ear.

“I am no boy,” I muse before leaning back.

“Calm down, Pretty Boy. You’re embarrassing yourself,” she says, never batting a single eyelash.

“What’s going on?” I turn on my sweet, trusting tone.

“Want to talk about it?”

I watch her chest rise as she inhales sharply.

She smells like sugar and caramel, melted together, and I wish I could have a taste to see if she’s just as sweet on the tongue.

She’s somber, but then, swiftly, her spine straightens out, and she rolls her shoulders back, looking at me with a mischievous grin tugging at her lips.

“You’re friends with Rowan, right?” Her tone is suddenly playful, and her face becomes eerily cheerful.

“We were before he showed his true colors.” I shake my head, taking a sip from my drink.

“Shit wasn’t fucking cool.”

Her eyes widen, and she looks panicked.

“Wh-what do you mean?” she stammers.

“What wasn’t cool?”

I frown.

“How he ended things with you.”

I don’t know what sort of answer she’s looking for.

Honestly, Rowan and I aren’t really friends anymore because Smith hates his guts, and my alliance will always be with Smith.

He’s like my brother.

But his sister is not like a sister to me—that’s for damn sure.

She visibly relaxes, pulling in a deep, slow breath.

I’m not sure what I think she’s going to do or say next, but it certainly isn’t what follows.

And she shocks me to my core when her hand touches me, and she leans closer.

“We should dance,” she coos.

“Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Darlin’, as long as you don’t mind your toes being stepped on a few times, let’s do it,” I drawl, standing and taking her hand in mine and tugging her upward.

I’m aware of Tripp’s glare on us, but when Saylor waves her fingertips at him, he waves back.

His expression is odd, but so is hers.

Before I can think on it too much, she tugs me out onto the dance floor.

And I’m just thankful as hell when it switches from some fast-beat pop shit to a slow country song by Riley Green.

Fuck, I’m jealous of that dude’s mustache.

To be honest, I’m sort of jealous of everything when it comes to the dude.

Sometimes, I open TikTok, and I swear to fuck, he’s half my feed.

I can’t even be mad at the dude either because he’s one smooth motherfucker.

She wraps her arms around my neck, flashing me a drunken grin as my arms slide around her waist. “Worst Way” plays, and for a country song, that shit is sexy as hell.

“So, you didn’t tell me, what are you doing here, drinking all by yourself, sweet thing?” I murmur, tilting my head closer to hers so that our foreheads almost touch.

She tries to shrug it off, but there’s a pain in her eyes I’ve never seen before.

I don’t know what happened to her, but I know she’s sad.

“Sometimes, a girl just wants to drink alone, Pretty Boy,” she says, her voice as smooth as silk.

“Easier to pick up guys like you when I don’t have any competition.”

“Right.” I practically snort.

“Guys like me.”

“Well, yeah,” she coos.

“Attractive, muscly, rich guys like you.” She winks.

“And let’s not forget, you said you have a big dick. So, basically, you’re a top-tier hookup choice.”

“Careful with the words you’re throwing around, darlin’,” I mumble.

“You’ll get more than you’re bargaining for.”

We sway on the dance floor, and with every passing second, it feels like our bodies are closer even though they aren’t.

“What I’m bargaining for is a release, Cambridge. Because I could really, really use one after this week.” She tries to play bashful, but it’s an act.

“What do you say, Ry-Ry? Can you put this supposedly big dick to good use and help a girl out?”

Holy fucking shit.

In all the years I’ve known Saylor, I’ve been wildly attracted to her, but I’ve never made a pass at her out of respect for her brother.

That, and Saylor always seems to have some love interest, even if it is just a fuck buddy.

But admire her? Fantasize about her?

That I’ve done. A lot.

“Are you trying to use me as a revenge fuck, Saylor?” I say, sliding my hands a little lower, resting them just above her ass.

“Is that it?”

“Does it matter?” She cocks her head to the side.

“You either want to fuck me or you don’t. My reasoning behind why I’m doing this doesn’t really matter, does it?” She slides one hand from my neck to my chest. “Either way, I’m craving a man’s touch. And, yeah … fucking one of Rowan’s friends—or in your case, ex-friend—well, that’s just the icing on the cake, baby.”

Despite her trying to put on this whole badass persona, I can tell she’s unhappy.

She’s having a rough night, and my cock can provide her with not just one release, but as many as I can get from her.

My cock is telling me yes, but my brain is telling me to smarten the fuck up.

She’s using me to get back at Rowan, and her brother has already voiced that his teammates are to stay away from his sister—multiple times because of everything she went through with her douchey ex.

“You’re drunk?” I say, but it’s more of a question.

It’s obvious she’s been drinking, but she doesn’t seem obliterated, which is good because if she were, I wouldn’t dream of having sex with her.

Not when she wasn’t clearheaded enough to know she actually wanted it.

“I’m hardly buzzed,” she answers as her eyes float to my lips, and she tips her chin up slightly.

“So, tell me, Ryder, are you going to help a girl out … or do I need to go talk to Trippy boy at the end of the bar?” She peeks around me, gazing toward him.

“He looks pretty cute.”

My neck swivels, and I glare at Tripp, who is literally doing nothing wrong, but because she mentioned fucking him, now his face is pissing me off.

He might have told me to stay clear of Smith’s little sister, but I have a hard time believing he’d say no if someone as desirable as Saylor walked up to him and asked to use his cock for her own personal gain.

I turn to face her again, narrowing my eyes.

She’s barely even touched me, yet my cock is steel, pressing against my zipper and begging to have her warm, wet pussy wrapped around it.

Something inside me knows she’s a freak deep down.

I bet she’d blow my fucking mind, and I’d be set for the rest of my life because no pussy would measure up.

Removing my arms from her body, I grab one of her wrists in my hand.

“Let’s go, Brat. You talk a big game; let’s see if you can back it up.”

As we head toward the door, I glance over at Tripp when we walk by.

He’s glaring at me, shaking his head.

“Hey, I need to talk to you,” he says to me before his eyes dart to Saylor.

“Saylor,” he murmurs.

“Ry doesn’t have time to talk right now. Sorry,” she says all too pleasantly.

“I mean, unless you’d like to join? Maybe you’re into that sort of thing.”

I shoot her a glare before sending him a silent warning.

Lucky for me, he doesn’t seem interested in her offer at all.

He just seems pissed off.

“We’ll be back in a bit,” I tell Tripp because no chance in hell am I sharing my dream girl with that motherfucker.

No way. I’ve waited my entire adult life for this moment, and he’s not about to fuck it up.

“I have my own truck, so I’ll probably head out,” he grumbles, turning away from us.

He didn’t really want to even come out tonight to begin with, and now look at me—I’m ditching the poor guy.

But there are times in life when selfishness is allowed.

And when you’re about to bury your dick deep inside Saylor Sawyer’s pussy, you’re allowed to be the most selfish fucker on the planet.

It’s practically science.

“All right, man. See you in the morning,” I drawl before leading Saylor out the door.

I know the look on Tripp’s face.

He’s not happy that I’m going against the wishes of one of our teammates and best friends.

But, fuck, this girl needs me right now.

She’s going through a lot, and if she wants to use me—or my dick—for the night …

who am I to tell her no?

“Your place or mine?” I say, pulling the passenger door open for her.

“That seems far too personal, and let’s not make this more than what it is,” she taunts.

“What’s wrong with your truck?” she says, climbing inside and running her hand over the leather.

“Seems like a nice ride to me.”

My pulse quickens.

It’s no secret that Saylor can be a little promiscuous.

Some guys might make a joke about it; I find it endearing because she literally gives zero shits.

She is who she is, and you can take it or leave it.

Either way, she’ll be fine.

That’s what she wants people to think anyway.

Inside, I think she cares much more than she leads on, but I’m not about to prod for more information right now.

Closing her door, I make my way to the driver’s side, trying to not look as desperate to be inside of her as I actually am.

The voice continues to yell at me, telling me to quit while I’m ahead, warning me that I shouldn’t touch her, but I silently tell it to shut the fuck up and climb into the truck before shifting into drive and pulling into a spot that’s more inconspicuous.

I’m too far gone to tell her I’ve changed my mind.

My cock is so hard that my brain feels numb as I glance over at the gorgeous girl in my passenger seat, who’s looking at me with fuck me eyes.

Unzipping my jeans, I shove them, along with my briefs, down just far enough to let my cock spring free.

“What are you waiting for, beautiful?” I murmur deeply just as she pushes her jacket off and tosses it into the back seat.

“Come over here and use my cock.”

Keeping her skirt on, she reaches down and pulls her panties off before climbing over the console.

Her tits strain against the light-colored fabric of her top, and my dick bounces, poking her in the thigh.

I slide my hands beneath her tank top.

“No bra? You filthy fucking girl. I love it,” I practically groan, cupping her tits.

“Fuck, these are perfect,” I utter.

When I lift her tank top, her bare tits stare me in the eyes, begging for me to bury my face between them—so that’s exactly what I do.

When I bring one of her flawless nipples into my mouth, she moans, pushing her pussy harder against my thighs.

My cock is wedged between our bodies, begging for her to fucking play with it.

Leaning back against the steering wheel, she gazes down at my cock as it gives her a standing ovation.

She brings her hand to her mouth and spits on it, fucking soaking her palm.

Then she wraps it around the base of my dick and begins to jerk me slowly.

“Fuck,” I hiss, licking her other nipple before putting my face between her tits and running my tongue against her flesh.

She’s fucking flawless, and she’s got my dick so hard that I can hardly think straight.

I hope she’s not expecting much because given how turned on I am, I’m probably going to blow my load after about three minutes—if I’m lucky.

If her hand feels this good stroking me, how the fuck am I going to survive her pussy strangling my cock?

“I don’t have a condom,” I murmur against her neck, sucking lightly.

“Are you clean?” she whispers, never stopping her palm from sliding up and down my length.

“Yes, I promise,” comes from my lips instantly.

If there’s a chance I get to fuck this woman bare …

send me to heaven now because I’ll have lived a full fucking life.

“Same, and I have an IUD,” she breathes out, stroking me faster and moaning when I bite the flesh on her jawline.

“Sit on it,” I grunt after a minute of letting her hand play with my dick.

“Ride me, Saylor. Make me come.”

I grab the base of my dick as she lifts her hips and hovers her entrance right above me.

Slowly, she relaxes down, and my cock swells inside of her, getting even thicker.

Her pussy wraps around me so tightly that I suck in a breath to stop myself from growling in pleasure.

It feels like her pussy was made for my cock.

“Fuck, you’re so big,” she says, somewhere between a whine and a moan.

“Take it slow if you need to,” I murmur.

Fuck, I may need her to take it slow so I don’t fucking come inside of her instantly, like I’m losing my virginity or some shit.

“You feel so fucking good. You’re filled to the brim with me, baby. Just how I bet you like it.”

She’s soaked, and I’m sure pre-cum is dripping out of my dick, lubricating her and making me fit a little easier.

Her hips start to roll, and she grabs my seat as she bounces.

She’s making the truck rock, I’m sure.

She fucks me like I’m her personal fuck doll—which I will gladly be anytime.

“That’s it, baby. Ride,” I practically bark, planting my hands on her hips.

I don’t even need to use my strength to thrust her back and forth on my dick; she’s doing it all on her own.

“Ryder,” she moans, moving her hands to my shoulders and digging her nails into my skin.

She’s taking what she needs from me, and I fucking love the show.

I could watch her like this all day, where she’s greedy and desperate to make her pussy come.

She’s not worried about pleasuring me; she’s just chasing down her desire, and I’ve never been so happy to be fucking used.

“I’m coming,” she cries out.

I squeeze my eyes shut, thinking about anything that’ll stop me from coming myself.

I’m not ready yet. I need more.

I mean, fuck … I never want this to end.

I’d love to fuck her for the whole night.

Eternity even because she feels that good.

But when the base of my balls tingle, I swear it’s all over, and I almost give in.

Lucky for me, a truck driving by startles me, stopping me from blowing my load right here.

Her movements slow, almost spasmodic before finally stopping.

“Why don’t you spin around and hold on to the steering wheel, beautiful? Let me fuck you from behind.”

Her legs are shaky, so it takes a little bit of help from me to get her spun around, but this time, when she lowers herself down onto my aching cock, I glide seamlessly because she’s fucking soaked.

“Hold on to the steering wheel tightly, baby,” I murmur against her back.

“Bounce on my cock. Show me how badly you want to come again.”

I grip her waist tightly, digging my fingertips into her soft skin.

Her thick, luscious ass is splayed across my thighs, making my balls fucking tingle with need.

As she moves herself up and down, I help her this time, thrusting her faster and harder down onto my cock.

“You’re so deep,” she cries out, and I can’t tell if it’s from pleasure or agony.

“God, I love fucking you this way,” I grunt, my neck veins bulging.

“You’re taking this cock so fucking good.”

I love the fucking view of her like this—back to me as she takes my dick so deep that she hisses every now and then.

I slide one hand up until I’m gripping her hair and it’s tangled in my fingers.

When I give it a slight tug, she fucks me faster, moaning out, telling me without words that she’s okay with rough.

Given the green light, I pull harder, thrusting her forcibly up and down on my dick.

“Fucking A, I’m so deep,” I growl, bending forward and biting down on her back.

“Christ, I’m about to blow my fucking cum inside of you.”

“Yes,” she moans, barely choking the word out.

“I’m … coming again.”

I slide my hand around to the front of her neck, only putting a little pressure but gripping gently, until her pussy clenches around my dick so tightly, pulling me deeper somehow.

Her thrusts become shorter but quicker, and she’s so fucking loud that anyone walking by would no doubt hear her screams.

“Fuck, Ryder.”

My cock pulsates, spewing cum so deep inside of her that I’ll be with her for days.

I grit my teeth while my whole body spasms.

With my breathing labored, I press my forehead to her back.

“Christ almighty, Sawyer. You took me for a fucking ride.”

She cranes her neck to partially glance back at me.

“You’re welcome,” she breathes out.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to be getting home.”

“So soon?” I cock my head to the side playfully.

“No cuddles or anything? Maybe another round of drinks inside?”

“No thanks,” she says sweetly before sliding off of me and climbing over to the other side.

Pulling her skirt down, she grabs her panties and yanks them on before reaching into the back seat for her jacket.

She turns toward me, giving me a sly smirk.

“Thanks again, Pretty Boy. That was fun.”

“I can’t tell if Pretty Boy is a compliment or not,” I say, tucking my cock back in and pulling my briefs and jeans on.

“Either way, you’re welcome for those two great orgasms.”

“I feel like you should thank me. I did all the work,” she deadpans.

“And I call you Pretty Boy because you look like an American Eagle model.” She giggles.

“You, sir, are definitely the prettiest NHL player to ever grace the ice.”

I roll my eyes because it’s an ongoing joke with the guys too.

I’m not going to tell Saylor this, but I did some Abercrombie & Fitch modeling briefly when I was eighteen.

I’ve also been approached by numerous modeling companies, but I turned them away.

“Hell yeah, I’m pretty.” I wink.

“And you’re right. Thank you for riding me so fucking good.” I shrug, smirking.

“My cock is yours to ride anytime you want, sweets.”

“I don’t really do repeats anymore,” she says casually before reaching over and patting my shoulder.

“Have a great night, Pretty Boy. See you around.”

She wastes no time climbing out of my truck and walking around the parking lot.

I should go back inside and order another drink—anything to try to wrap my head around what just happened.

Instead, I push my head against the headrest and drag my hand down over my face.

I just fucked my best friend’s little sister.

And the worst part is, I’m already thinking about round two.