Page 79 of Puck

She had me hard in seconds. “Not really. But I should point out that when I decide I like something, I get kind of addicted.”

“A-DICK-ted, huh?”

She smirked up at me as she jacked me. “Penis-based puns. My favorite.” She leaned closer to me. “Yes, you might say I’m quickly becoming a-DICK-ted to your cock. Which is probably good for you, and your chances of receiving . . . how’d you put it . . . a crazy amount of head from this woman.”

“I’m on board with this addiction.”

“One caveat, though.”

“Name it.”

“Don’t be shy with the cunnilingus.”

I laughed. “Babe, just try and keep me away from your pussy.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Good point—oh. . . ohh. Holy shit, babe . . . Jesus, you’re gonna make me come in thirty seconds flat if you keep that up—”

Which seemed to be her goal, and one at which she succeeded.

Followed by me returning the favor, which meant we didn’t end up leaving for our spin in the countryside for quite a while.

And yes, we fucked each other’s brains out in the grass beneath a spreading oak tree.

And again in the car, on the side of the road.

And again when we got back.

And again in the back of Roth’s private jet on the way to New York.

And again in her apartment in DUMBO, which was a gorgeous little loft full of sweetness and light and tasteful decorations.

And again, and again, and again that night.

You get the point.

Epilogue

Itriedto stifle my nerves, but it was no good.

“Yo, relax, Cole. It’s fine. Harris could land this bitch in the dark in a windstorm without instruments.” Puck took my hand and squeezed, speaking to me over the private channel between his headset and mine. “Don’t freak.”

I gulped hard as the helicopter Harris was flying swooped low over the water, nose down, skimming barely fifty feet above the waves. “Can he . . . slow down at all?”

Puck thumbed a switch that looped Harris into our headsets. “Harris, quit showing off, you asshole,” I heard him say.

Harris, up front behind the controls, chuckled. “Aww, you ain’t scared are you, Colbie?”

“Maybe a little,” I squeaked. “You’re flying like it’s a fighter jet.”

Puck, Harris, and Layla all laughed.

“Don’t tempt him, hon,” Layla said.

“Too late,” Harris said.

“Shit.” Puck cinched his five-point harness tighter and then reached over to cinch mine so tight I could barely breathe. “Keep your eyes open, Cole, and keep breathing.”