Page 2 of Hot Pucking Summer (Hot Summer #2)

"I can't believe that just happened," Cloyce wails, hiding under the comforter in the guest bedroom.

"It's fine. Really," I say, stroking his leg through the thick bedspread, trying to console him. "Jax is cool."

He pokes his head out, his red curls half flat, half messed up, his honey-brown eyes wild, and his lightly freckled skin still flushed from the heat of his intense whole-body orgasm I gave him. Annnd the second one that happened after Jax caught us. I was still inside him so I felt him have it. "Your best friend just saw me naked. He saw me"—Cloyce winces—"come."

"Not ideal, granted," I say, keeping my voice smooth and steady. "But he really is cool. I promise you."

"I am beyond mortified." He ducks back beneath the covers. "In fact, a new word needs to be invented because mortified doesn't even begin to describe how I'm feeling."

I squeeze his leg. He's so freaking adorable, and I'm so head over skates in love with him it's not even funny. Not that I've dared say those three words to him yet. Long-distance relationships are hard, and even though we've been together for eight months and video call every day, it's still early days.

Plus, I know he's got trust issues from how guys have treated him in the past, and he feels a certain way about his body, so I'm taking things slowly and doing this on Cloyce Delgaty time.

"Would you like me to speak with Jax?" I offer. "Make sure he's okay with it."

Silence and then the comforter moves. I hedge a guess that's Cloyce nodding his head.

"Okay. But tell him if he's not, if it's too weird for him, I can catch the next flight back to Massachusetts."

Cloyce won't be catching any flight because I've known Jax since I was six, and he will really be cool with it, but all I say is, "You got yourself a deal. I'll be back in five, okay?"

The comforter shakes again with what I assume is another nod.

I make my way down the hallway. The living room and kitchen are empty, so I venture out onto the back patio where Jax is checking the water in the hot tub. He turns when he hears me opening the sliding door. "Is he okay?"

"He's embarrassed," I say, walking up and leaning against the edge of the Jacuzzi. "You weren't supposed to be here until later."

"I'm sorry. Traffic was better than expected, and I thought it'd be a nice surprise."

"A surprise, yes. Nice? Not so much."

His jaw clenches, and he dries his hands on a white hand towel. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make him feel bad."

"I know you didn't." Despite being one of the most aggressive forwards in the history of the game, deep down Jax Anderson is a big ol' softie. We've known each other since we met at an eight-week 'learn-to-play' hockey program. I didn't know it at the time, but Jax was the richest kid there, while I was only able to make it due to financial assistance.

Despite coming from different worlds, our friendship was immediate. We pursued our hockey dreams together, from house league to competitive youth hockey and juniors all the way to getting drafted into the NHL. Two seasons ago, Jax got transferred to the Thunderhawks, which was the icing on the cake—I get to play on the same team as my bestie.

The only thing missing in our lives has been love.

When we first started in the NHL, we were young, dumb, and full of cum, and we loved the attention, the endless supply of guys—or guys and girls in Jax's case—that threw themselves at us. But that shit grows old fast, and now all we want is something real and long-term.

Luckily for me, I've found it with Cloyce. And it almost didn't happen.

Our team had two visits that day, so we were split into two groups. I was in the hospital visit group with Jax, but the schedule changed at the last minute, and I was sent to the school Cloyce works at instead.

Best random stroke of luck ever.

I liked that Cloyce didn't know who I was. I liked that he wasn't into hockey, even though he's making an effort now and has memorized all my stats. And funnily enough, I liked that he had to seriously consider whether or not to give me his number. Later, he told me he hesitated because he assumed I wasn't going to call.

As if I wouldn't.

Cloyce is the guy I've been searching for my whole life. He's kind and funny and smart and devoted to his students. He has the most joyous laugh, the most unruly bright-red hair I've ever seen in real life, and his body… Jesus Christ, his body. If I could spend the rest of my life exploring it with my hands and tongue, it still wouldn't be enough. If I have to tell him a million times before he believes me, I will, but Cloyce is the sexiest man alive.

"Give us a sip," I say when I notice Jax is drinking a beer, his long blond hair falling down his back, illuminated by the last light of the day. He hands me the longneck, and I take a swig, letting the cool bubbles slide down my throat. I hand the bottle back to him. "I really want you guys to get along. It's important to me."

Jax holds my gaze, his silvery-green eyes holding a quiet intensity, his mind clearly turning something over. "I know it is." He lifts the bottle and gulps down a huge mouthful, the weight of what we're not saying making the hot summer air even stickier.

We haven't talked about it since the night it happened two years ago, but it's always there, lingering on the periphery. We were in Seattle and had just won. The team was out celebrating, but I wasn't feeling it for some reason, so I returned to the hotel. We were sharing an adjoining suite. I went in to check on Jax since he'd hurt his ankle during the game and had stayed in.

When I opened the door, he was on the bed jerking off to something on his laptop.

Time has only blurred my memory of what happened next. I somehow ended up on the bed next to him. I saw the porn he was watching—a gay threesome. I took my clothes off. We started stroking each other, making out a little, our eyes flitting between the screen and each other.

When he got close, he murmured, "I want to share a guy with you."

His words were like a jolt of electricity ricocheting through my entire body, lighting up something inside me I never knew I wanted, but I instantly felt the rightness of it penetrate into the deepest level of my being.

I responded to his confession with, "I want to share a guy with you, too."

It's something we've done all our lives. Sharing, that is. Jax's mother unofficially adopted me when my mother kicked me out because her deadbeat boyfriend at the time had a problem with me calling out his bullshit sophomore year in high school, and I lived with them until graduation.

But even before then, Jax was always giving me his old hockey gear, lending me money for competitive leagues, covering the cost of travel and basically everything not covered by financial assistance that my mother refused to pay for since hockey was, according to her, 'a giant waste of time.'

Jax has casually dated two girls and a guy since then, but it's never felt right to bring up what we told each other that night.

But for some reason, it feels right with Cloyce.

Don't get me wrong, I'm protective as fuck over him, and if another guy so much as looked at him the wrong way, there'd be fists involved.

But it's different with Jax. The thought of him and Cloyce together doesn't drive me insane with jealousy. It drives me fucking wild.

I know in my heart that what Cloyce and I have is the real deal, and I want Jax to be a part of that. I don't know how exactly. I don't even know how Cloyce would respond. Would he be down for it, or would he be disgusted and think I'm a freak? Would he go so far as to break things off with me?

It's definitely a risk, but I'm hoping the three of us spending this long weekend together might help bring things to a head.

"You hungry?" Jax asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I tip my head up and grin. "Always."

"How about I fix us something to eat? A good meal might help us move past the awkwardness."

"Good idea. I'll go get Cloyce."

It takes me a good ten, maybe fifteen, minutes to coax Cloyce from his hiding spot under the bedcovers, so by the time I'm leading him, hand in hand, into the dining room, Jax is plating up generous portions of what looks like his mother's heavenly homemade lasagna. "Jax's ma makes the best lasagna," I say to Cloyce, pulling out a chair for him.

Cloyce sits down and inhales. "It smells amazing."

Jax smiles. "Thanks."

We sit down and dig in.

Well, Jax and I dig in because the only way we know how to eat is by shoveling food down our throats like we're savages raised in the wild, while Cloyce picks at his food before taking a small bite. Then another. And another.

I don't know whether I should bring up what happened so we can discuss it and move on, or whether it's better to pretend nothing happened.

Cloyce takes that decision out of my hands. He stares across the table at Jax. "I'm sorry about what you saw."

"It's fine." Jax waves his hand in the air. "I'm sure the cum stains will wash out of the sofa."

Cloyce drops his fork with a loud clang. "No. Don't tell me…"

Jax is smiling like the shit-stirring fucker he is, so I kick him extra hard under the table for messing with Cloyce like that. "Ow. I'm just kidding. It's all good. You guys didn't offend me. There are no visible cum stains anywhere. If anything, I got treated to a super-hot sex show. I should be thanking you."

I stop glaring at Jax and turn my head to Cloyce. He's processing. Jax is a lot to take at the best of times. He's boisterous, has zero filter, and often rubs people the wrong way, coming across as way too cocky for his own good. Also, his sense of humor isn't something that people always get right away. It takes a few….years to get used to it.

After a few seconds, a small smile stretches Cloyce's lips. "Super-hot sex show, huh?"

Oh. That's literally the last thing I expected him to pick up on.

"Well, I mean this one…" Jax points to me. "He's so-so. But you, Cloyce." Jax licks the tip of his finger, presses it against his chest, and makes a sizzling noise.

Cloyce stares at him for a few beats then chuckles. "Nice one. You almost had me there. But look, sorry again for what happened, and thanks for being so cool about it."

Jax flicks his eyes to mine in confusion. He may not understand why Cloyce is playing his comment off as a joke, but I do. Cloyce doesn't always believe me when I tell him how attractive I find him, so I guess he automatically doesn't believe Jax, either. It infuriates me the way men have treated Cloyce to make him not see himself the way I, and Jax, do. He's so sexy, every single square inch of his body, even the parts that move when we fuck. Correction, especially those parts. There is no hotter sight on the planet than Cloyce splayed out beneath me, his hefty body bouncing and shifting and swaying as I ramfuck the living shit out of him.

But at least some of the awkwardness about Jax catching us fucking is gone. Cloyce asks Jax something about when the next training camp will be, leaving me to ponder my bestie's comment about the super-hot sex show and his sizzle gesture.

Does he really think my boyfriend is hot? And why was the sex show remark the one thing Cloyce picked up on? Does he think Jax is hot, too? Would he be open to being shared with my bestie?

It's way too early to know, but these questions swirling around in my head have made my cock harder than a slab of granite.

I finish the rest of the lasagna with a big goofy grin on my face. Who knows. Maybe there'll be more than one type of firework going off this Fourth of July weekend.