Page 65 of My Pucking Crush

Luca

I pace around Max’s living room, hating myself. Plenty of reasons are fighting for the number one position. I’ve fallen for Max. What was a harmless crush, a frenzied obsession with a hot hockey player on the team I worked for, has mutated into something I’ve never felt before.

Love.

But I just threw him out of his own house naked. Made him vulnerable and likely to find a helpful woman who he may very well fuck as a thank you. Hell no. That man is mine and no one touches what is mine .

Yet, knowing Ivan Belova wants Max hurt enough to not play, I still threw him out of his own house to wander around East Hampton. Naked. Like an idiot.

Fuck. Me. What the hell have I done?

I yank off the low-slung towel from my hips and quickly slide on my trousers. Bare chested, I open the patio door and call out, “Max!”

Hearing nothing but the crash of waves, I rush to the railing of his deck and look both ways. Footprints in the sand head left. “Aw, fuck .”

I rush back into the house and grab a flashlight, my piece, and my shirt, but I don’t bother buttoning it up. I close the door and keep it unlocked in case he gets back. I deserve to be locked out at this point. I deserve to be punished.

God, I want to be punished with his cock.

I follow the footprints, assuming they’re Max’s since they started at the bottom of the deck stairs and looked like his meaty bare feet. “Max!” I call out again.

The angry ocean to my right tightens my chest, my heart soaring into my throat. What if he ducked into the water because he was naked and got...swept away?

“Holy shit, I’m in trouble.”

“Looking for someone?” a voice sounds out from above me.

I whip my piece in that direction. “Who are you?”

A woman giggles. “I’m guessing you’re the bodyguard.”

“Where’s Max?” I point my piece at them. I’m in trust no one mode.

Only, these two don’t flinch. They know who I am. They’re a few steps ahead of me.

“Let’s start with some introductions.” The man who called out to me holds the woman against his chest. “I’m Emery Austin and this is my fiancée, Bernadette Armstrong.”

A dainty hand waves to me.

I lower my gun. “Yeah, I’m Max’s bodyguard. Where is he?”

“Some bodyguard.” Emery gives my disheveled hair and open shirt a curious glare.

“Can I come up?” I point to the stairs. “I know he’s here. Those are his footsteps.”

“He was here,” Bernadette says to me with sympathy and mischief in her eyes.

“Was?” I choke out. “Where the hell did he go? He’s naked.”

“Not anymore,” Emery says.

“You gave him clothes?”

“My other fiancé did,” the adorable woman says.

“ Other fiancé?” I’m definitely not hearing her right.

“That’s not important.” Emery shakes his head. “ Your boyfriend is our fiancé’s old college roommate.”

Our fiancé...

I’m so wound up that my hearing is fucked. “Who went to college with Max?” I ask.

“Ashton Ives. My fiancé,” the guy answers. “And hers. We’re getting married. All of us.”

My jaw practically hits the sand. Then it clicks. Like Queen Domenico. Four guys married to one woman. I didn’t know that was a trend. Good for them.

They got their happy ever after, and I can’t even find the man I love. “Where are they? Max and Ash?” I ask.

“And Ford,” Bernadette says. “Ford Montgomery.”

“Please, Bernadette.” I’m ready to sink my knees into the sand.

“Call me Bernie,” she says like we’ll be friends.

“Like the movie? Weekend at Bernie’s .”

“Exactly!” she chirps while Emery smiles at his fiancée. A woman he shares with two other men.

A ding sounds to my phone. I hope to fuck it’s Max, but it’s a text from an unknown number. I open it and my heart stops, seeing Max on his knees, his hands tied behind his back, his ankles bound, too.

Belova! My head is ready to explode until I read the text message:

Maxwell Ryan requests your presence at Club Dare to hear one hell of an epic apology- Ford Montgomery

“They’re at Club Dare?” I look back up at the couple who started making out. “In the city?”

“We’re members,” Emery says, nuzzling her neck. “We hear you are, too.”

It is the best sex club in Manhattan. “How did they get there so fast?”

“My helicopter dropped them off.” Emery grins.

Before I respond, the wind kicks up and the whirring of blades slicing through the thick briny air turns me around. The sand is packed so tight on this part of the beach, it doesn’t fly into every crevice. I’m hoping Max will hop out. That this was all a joke.

But noooo .

“What the hell is going on?” I spin back around to the couple fucking with me.

“It’s your ride, silly,” Bernie says, so cheery it’s impossible to be angry at her.

“And please get on it to be with your man so I can fuck my woman.” That Emery asshole will be my enemy neighbor if things work out with Max.

“Got it.” I step toward the sleek silver bird with a purring engine. “Have a good night. And...thank you.” My head spins as I’m running for a helicopter owned by a complete stranger.

Inside, I button up my shirt and check my back pocket, relieved I have my wallet and my phone. But I also have my gun. I can’t bring that into Club Dare.

“Mind if I leave my piece here?” I say into the mic after I slide on a headset.

“There’s a storage locker under your seat,” the pilot says like I asked for a bottle of water.

I pack the gun away. “How long until we’re there?”

“Twenty minutes to the helipad, sir.”

“Any chance you can wait for me to bring me back to East Hampton?”

“My orders were to wait, sir.”

I sit back and watch the lights of Long Island pass beneath me as I head to Manhattan. I have no idea what the hell Max thinks he’s doing at Club Dare without me and with two other men, but I’m glad he’s tied up.

I’ll be dragging him out of there by those ropes...