Page 23 of Don't Puck Up

I felt the moment Vigilante slid inside Chris. His whole body locked up, and the hand he had returned to my ass bit into my cheek.

“Easy,” Vigilante crooned. “Relax for me, or this won’t last anywhere near as long as either of us wants.”

I looked over my shoulder and watched Vigilante stand as still as a statue, waiting for Chris to get used to his intrusion. He was careful with him—at least at the beginning. I ran my hand through Chris’s hair, massaging his scalp as he tried to distract himself on my pussy.

I moaned, and slowly I saw and felt Chris relax under me, his grip on my ass loosening and his fingers moving more freely inside me. His tongue lessened the pressure against my clit, and he moaned, long and low. I couldn’t keep my eyes off them. Vigilante moved slowly at first, the roll of those wicked hips hypnotizing. I could see the way Chris’s hole clung to the thick shaft penetrating him with each thrust.

The buildup began again. Chris used his fingers and mouth on me relentlessly. As Vigilante sped up and plunged deeper and harder into Chris, he did the same to me. Soon the bed was rocking, hitting the wall with each powerful thrust.

My orgasm sideswiped me. One second it was building slowly, and the next it had taken my knees out from under me, spinning me head over tail like a gymnast doing a floor routine at the Olympics. I cried out and floated in the abyss of ecstasy as my body tingled and fireworks went off behind my closed eyelids. Finally, Chris tore his mouth away from my over-sensitive pussy, and he shouted.

I forced my eyelids open and cast my gaze over my shoulder to see what Vigilante had done to him. My man was bent in half, Vigilante’s hands pressing down on his hamstrings, holding his knees up near his shoulders. He pounded into him, one knee on the bed as he hovered over him. Chris’s cock was an angry red, the veins in it pulsing, and with each of Vigilante’s thrusts, another pearl of precum leaked from his slit.

“Fuck,” Chris shouted. “Fuuuck.” His whole body bowed, and cum erupted from his untouched cock, flooding his belly and hitting my ass. Pulse after pulse saturated his sweat-soaked, shaking body. Themuscles in Vigilante’s arms bulged, and his abs rippled as he fucked Chris through his orgasm.

Then he roared. He snapped his hips forward one last time and held Chris in place as he quaked, riding out the obviously intense orgasm.

I shifted off Chris, giving him a chance to breathe, and long moments later, Vigilante released his legs. Chris didn’t have the strength to hold them up, and his feet slid straight off the bed to thud on the hardwood floor. His chest rose and fell, but his eyes remained closed.

Vigilante looked winded, breathing hard and soaked in sweat. But he didn’t fall onto the bed like I’d hoped he would. Instead, he slid the condom off, tied it, and went to the bathroom. I heard the water running, and he soon returned, handing me a washcloth. He was already tucked in and zipped up—he was leaving, and I didn’t even have a reason to ask him to stay.

“Sweet dreams, little prey. I'll see you again.”

He strode out without another word, his trench coat flapping behind him like a superhero’s cape. I wanted to run after him, to see who he was under the mask, but I didn’t.

Instead I pressed the washcloth to Chris’s skin and took my time wiping his belly and chest down. With each stroke of my hand, Chris twitched, his muscles still spasming. When I was finished, I urged him up onto the mattress, then curled into him, wrapped my arm around his waist, and closed my eyes. Tonight had been overwhelming and kind of insane. But it was memorable insanity, and I hoped Vigilante had watered the seed I’d planted in Chris’s mind that his sexuality and what he enjoyed with this man was nothing to be ashamed of.

“Thank you,” Chris croaked as my eyelids grew heavier. His arm tightened around me, and I knew he was thanking me for so much more than cleaning him up.

I nuzzled his chest and pressed a kiss to his pec. “I love you too.”

nine

Locke

Istrode out of the cabin, every fiber of my being begging me to stay. Chris had revealed something of himself tonight that I hadn’t expected, and it had struck me in the chest, lodging itself there. Under that bad-boy look—and damn did he do the tattoos, long hair, and scruffy beard well—he was insecure and kind of messed-up. Instinct had me wanting to reach for him and kiss every ounce of doubt and fear from him.

I’d known who he was when we’d officially met. But then I’d looked him up, checking out all the gossip sites for write-ups on him so I could learn more. Aside from the major cheating scandal, which I didn’t believe a word of—I’d seen how protective they were of each other and how they read each other so well. I knew without a sliver of a doubt that there was no way Kamirah could hurt Chris like that—he and Kam presented as any other ordinary straight couple. My poor little bisexual hockey player was as deep in the closet as he could go, and I was guessing he’d repressed so much of his sexuality that he didn’t even know what he liked when it came to being with a man.

He’d said he was an exclusive top. But the fact that he’d been begging me to fuck him and riding my fingers, then came like a geyser hands-free, told me otherwise. He’d let down a little bit of his guard with me. It was a privilege to have been able to give that experience to him and witness the outcome.

I leaned against the palm tree and slipped off my mask before tucking it into my pocket. I could still see the lights of their bure through the trees, and as I replayed tonight’s events in my head, I bit my lip, trying to hold back my grin. I was giddy, my belly flip-flopping with excitement. I couldn’t believe it had really happened. It was even better than I’d imagined. I’d hoped for a hilltop blow job and a couple of dirty hand jobs in return. I never imagined it could have turned out like it did.

I just hoped they were feeling as incredible as I was in that moment and that Chris wasn’t having second thoughts about what he’d experienced. I didn’t want him doubting himself.

I dragged my arse back to my golf buggy, my body protesting every step I took away from them. I was glad I’d driven it rather than walked because my legs ached and my hands were still shaking from the workout, but I would much rather not have left at all. It was precisely the reason why I had to get out of there. I’d been avoiding them. I didn’t want to risk running into them and blowing my cover. Now I was only on the island for one more day. I couldn’t get attached, but… who was I kidding? I already was.

***

My final day on the island was beautiful, just like every day had been. My masseuse, Aisake, had knocked on my door at precisely 11:00 a.m. and invited me to join him for a massage on my private beach under the dappled sunlight of the swaying palms. I still had to pinch myself at sentences like that—“my private beach.” It was wild that thiswas my life.

But I’d stripped off to my underwear, and the big Fijian had worked every knot in my back and legs out until I was loose and relaxed.

I’d spent an hour reliving every detail of last night’s experience and cringed when he’d told me to roll over. Thankfully Aisake was more professional than I was.

Now I was torn. On the one hand, I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face, thinking about my time with Chris and Kamirah, but my chest tightened and gut sank every time I thought about having to leave. I didn’t want to go, but my time here was running out fast, and no matter how much I wanted to extend my stay, it wasn’t possible.

I headed toward the main building to where I’d booked a table on the beach for lunch, hands in my pockets and sand between my toes. I missed this. I loved LA, but I’d never really found my people there, and so the place never really felt like home. Fiji was already that for me, but maybe it was the people.