Page 11 of Don't Puck Up

And he was staring right back. That intense gaze was zeroed in on me, pinning me in place. He was a force of nature, holding me captive with just his eyes. His stare was like a physical caress, scorching me with painless fire as he watched my body react to him. Gooseflesh broke out over my skin. My pulse fluttered wildly. My cock tented the loose swim shorts I was wearing. I licked my lips, wishing I had them wrapped around any part of his body.

The man had a certainje ne sais quoiabout him. In his interviews—I’d seen every one of them—he was down-to-earth, intelligent, and funny. From the moment I’d seen him in a small non-speaking minor role in a random advertisement, I’d known he was different. He’d captivated me then. Now he held me captive.

Locke fucking Ledger.

Right there in front of me.

I swallowed hard and heard Kamirah’s soft laugh. Locke tore his gaze away from mine and pinned her with the same stare. I watched as she sucked in a breath and her nipples pebbled, her whole body swaying toward him. Like me, she wasn’t having the reaction a fan had to their idol. We were ensnared in his orbit, like planets to the sun. Except our sun radiated pure, undiluted sex.

It was probably only seconds, but it could have been hours that we were locked in an unbreakable stare with him. The moment was shattered when the server approached Locke and asked where he’d like to sit.

“I was actually hoping to sit by the pool.” He gestured to our table and smiled politely at us.

“I can move—” I reacted on instinct, reaching up and waving to him.

Oh. My. Fucking. God. I was waving like a fucking fool.

Stop! Why was I still waving? Kill me now. Please stop. Jesus fucking Christ, please stop waving.

The heat of Kamirah’s amused gaze scorched me, and her giggle tinkled like a bell. But he still had me entangled in his gaze. I couldn’t look away.

“You’re welcome to join us,” Kamirah said, her voice low and sexy like she was turned on, but loud enough to carry across the space.

Locke tilted his lips up in a genuine, open smile and shook his head. “I don’t want to interrupt your couple time.”

Kamirah looked my way, and she grasped my hand, lowering it to her lap. Oh,fuck me, I still had it up in the air mid-wave. My cheeks flamed. My ears burned. I ducked my head down, too embarrassed to look at him.

“You’re not interrupting,” she reassured him.

I didn’t know whether to kiss my wife in everlasting thanks or die on the spot, so I squeezed her hand instead. She interlaced our fingers, holding tight.

“In that case….” Locke moved closer, then slid into the seat opposite Kamirah. He pressed his knee against my leg, and I bit back the groan at the heat of his touch. I slipped my hand under the table and adjusted my erection, trying to ease the ache between my legs. My reaction to him was visceral. I was hard enough to hammer nails, my balls already drawn up tight to my body.

He held his hand out to Kam to shake. “G’day, I’m Locke. Nice to meet you,” he greeted in a smooth, deep voice that rippled through me like an ocean current. His Australian accent was more pronounced when he spoke off camera. It was such a fucking turn-on.

Kam slipped her hand into Locke’s, and they shook. “Kamirah—Kam—Minns, and this is my husband, Chris. It’s good tomeet you too.”

Locke turned to me and held his hand out. Mine shook as I reached for him. Electricity sparked between us when he grasped it. I sucked in a breath and choked again, coughing on my own inhalation. My cheeks flamed, and I looked down at our still-joined hands.

The man was an absolute A-lister. No, he was a megastar.

He was shaking my hand.Fuck me!

His latest role had catapulted him into the limelight as the world’s biggest action movie star. He was Vigilante, my newest antihero obsession.

But it wasn’t the movie star I was confounded by. It was the man before me. He was magnetic. He had presence. Without even needing to speak, he’d rendered me speechless. In just a few words, he’d ratcheted up my lust to levels that were obscene for being in public.

“Tell me about yourselves,” he prompted.

“Ah,” I squeaked, then cleared my throat. He let go of my hand, and I eased it back under the table to once again adjust my straining hard-on. “I’m, um, a hockey player?”

“Are you asking me that, or telling me?” he teased, his lips tilting up in a wicked smirk while his hazel eyes glinted with playful mischief. When he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, wetting it, I squeezed the base of my dick, desperately trying to stave off coming in my pants like a fucking teenager.

I laughed self-consciously, not sure whether I hated or loved how off-kilter I was. “I’m the starting right defense at the San Diego Seals—the NHL team—but I’m on leave at the moment.”

It was Locke’s turn to laugh self-consciously. He rubbed the back of his neck and he admitted, “I’m actually a big fan of the Seals. I caught your game in Brissie when I was home last year.” He grinned, that open smile lighting up his face. “I wasn’t sure if it was you—youlook different out of your uniform—but I was so glad you kicked LA’s arses. My mate supports them, so the bragging rights were welcomed.”

“Thanks.” I dipped my head in acknowledgement, and a small, satisfied grin broke over my lips. Locke Ledger was a fan of the Seals. It was the best thing he could have said to me. “It’s always good to win against the Kings.”