Page 18 of Pucked Up (Punk as Puck #2)

He laughed more. “I have one more request if you’re feeling up for it.”

I wasn’t. “I don’t have a lot of time right now. ”

“Doing what? Coaching your community league?” He laughed even harder, and I hated him for it. “Listen, we’re trying to get a couple of the past winners of the Reid Martin to attend, and one of them is not too far from where you’re at right now.”

It was strange to hear Reid’s name used like that. They’d named the trophy after him the year after he died for the most valuable player that year. I had no idea who the recipients had been since then. The most I’d done was write a statement about how pleased Reid would have been.

“Where is he?”

“Boston. But if my information is correct, he lives near you in the off-season. A…” He hummed, and I could hear him flipping through pages. “Ah, Micah Adams. Goalie for the Fury.”

The Legends and the Fury were the two rival PPHL teams in the area. I knew Jonah, and though I’d never been formally introduced to Micah, his reputation preceded him.

In more ways than one.

“Didn’t you send an invite?”

“I wasn’t sure how to do that since he’s you know. I don’t know what the polite word for it would be.”

“Christ, man. You’re the commissioner for the disabled hockey league, and you can’t say the word ‘blind’?”

He laughed like I was telling the world’s most hilarious joke. Fuck, I hated this man. “Would he be able to read the invitation? ”

“You could send it in braille. Or email. Or… putain . Forget it. I’ll speak with him. He’s close to a couple of my team members.”

“Right. Boden Morin, isn’t it?”

I bristled. I didn’t expect Edwin to know who he was. “Don’t ask me to pull those strings. I can’t.”

He snorted. “No, of course not. I’ve been on with his father a few times. Great guy. We have golf in a couple of weeks.”

Of course they did. “I’ll see you soon, Edwin.”

“Oh. Well, do you think?—”

I hung up before he could finish his sentence, and I knew he wouldn’t call back. Give him ten minutes and he’d forget about the phone call entirely. His job was done. He could pat himself on the back for doing a good deed and put me out of his mind for the rest of his life.

If I was lucky, anyway.

Leaning forward, I dropped my elbows to my desk and pressed my face into my hands. “It should have been me, you know,” I told the ghost of Reid, who wasn’t there. “It would have been so much easier if it were me. You know I’m no good at all this shit. I wasn’t meant to make a difference to anyone.”

“You know that talking to yourself is a bad sign. But I have the number of a decent doctor if you need help.”

My gaze snapped up as Boden walked in. He was using his crutches, looking pissed off as always, and he slammed the door behind him.

Something in me snapped. I was on my feet before I was consciously aware of it, crossing the room until I was less than a centimeter from him.

My fingers curled in the front of his shirt.

“Next time you slam my door, I’m going to make you open and shut it over and over until you’ve learned some manners. ”

He sucked in a breath, his cheeks darkening.

“Then I’ll make sure your ass feels a sting for a long while.”

“You promised that last time and failed to live up, so…”

I spun him, careful of his crutches. When I was sure he was steady on his feet, I shoved his chest against the door and went for the button and zipper on his jeans.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Fulfilling my promise,” I told him. “You have a smart-ass mouth, and I think we need to take care of that.”

“Shit,” he gasped as I tugged his pants down to his knees. They caught on the tops of his orthotics and hung there. His cock was fat, half-erect, and wet at the tip. The head was pushing hard against his foreskin.

It took everything in me not to take him in my grasp and stroke him until he was begging again.

“Tell me to stop.”

His head whipped to the side. “What did you say?”

I eyed his hearing aids, then leaned forward. “Tell me to stop. ”

“Is that what you want?” He looked almost afraid of my answer.

My mouth went dry, and my dick throbbed in my pants. I wasn’t going to let him leave tonight without emptying my balls. That was also a promise I’d made. “If this is too much?—”

“I’m not a fucking coward. I can take whatever you think you can give me.” He might as well have been on his knees, begging me to paint his ass red.

Gripping his chin with my free hand, I forced him to look me in the eye. “If I think for a second you’re lying and don’t want this, I will never touch you again.”

He swallowed heavily, then let his crutch handles go, pressing his palms to the door.

“Can you stand like that?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to move your crutches?”

“Not too far,” he said. His voice was full of nerves and tension, and I understood why. Without them, he was physically vulnerable.

I carefully detached the cuffs, then set them within reach. Stepping back, I could see his legs holding strong. The round globes of his ass were clenched, as though he was anticipating my strike, and God, I’d had no idea how bad I’d wanted this until right at that moment.

It had never been like that with Reid. It had been kind, and tender, and sometimes a little rough. But never this. Never quenching a thirst I hadn’t realized I was feeling. I’d played like this a few times in my youth when I was young and nowhere near in love.

I’d given up a lot for Reid.

The thought I could get any of it back was laughable, and yet, Boden existed. He was here, pressed against my office door, waiting.

Wanting.

Needing .

The first slap was a test. He jumped and groaned, his dick knocking against the wood. I kneaded his ass gently, then pulled back and did it again. Harder this time. He sucked his breath in with the sting.

“That’s all you’ve got?” He let out a tight laugh.

He wasn’t going to upset me. He was trying, but I knew better. The only reason I would do this was because my head was clear and level. It was laser focused. I was calm. And I was happy. I smiled as I spanked him a third time, and he jumped again.

His skin was sensitive and immediately pinked.

“Gorgeous,” I murmured. “Mon petit feu, you turn such lovely colors.”

“Fucking weirdo,” he ground out.

I smiled wider. “What does that make you, liking it so much?” A fourth blow, and the second cheek went rosy. The fifth, and his breathing evened out.

The sixth, and he was starting to lose strength in his legs. I hadn’t hit him hard. He’d lose the sensation by morning. But even if I didn’t leave marks for longer than a few hours, he would never forget.

And neither would I.

Stepping up behind him, I gripped him around the waist, pressing him harder against the door as I took my own dick out. It was fat and heavy, throbbing from not being touched in so long, and I grazed the tip up the crack of his ass.

“Oh fuck. Fuck,” he gasped. His cheek was squished against the wood as he tried to turn his head. “Do you have condoms?”

I didn’t. Not yet. “A failure on my part,” I told him. “I’ll remedy that soon. For now, be good and take what I give you.”

“Take what— oh .” A single nudge of my dick against his hole, and then I spit on my hand, slicked myself up, and slid it between the crack of his ass. I began to pump my hips as I used my hands to squeeze him around me.

The sight of it was wholly erotic in ways I had never experienced before. My entire body felt like it had caught fire. I was going to end up ash when this was all done, but I would have no regrets. Boden was…hell, he was perfect.

And I wasted no time telling him that in our shared mother tongue.

“Can’t get enough of this, of you. So good for me, so perfect, so gorgeous. Mon petit feu, falling apart just from the slide of my cock against your ass. Tell me you want my come.”

“I want it,” he sobbed, and he banged his fist against the wall. I knew what those words must have cost him. I knew the price he was paying for admitting the one thing he wanted to keep to himself. “Please, please come. ”

My vision went white at the edges, and I closed my eyes, humping faster, squeezing harder until I felt my orgasm crest and then crash. I let go with a heavy groan, thrusting my hips against him as I spilled all over the small of his back.

His hips moved back against me as best as he could, trying to milk me clean of every drop.

Letting my head fall forward, I grazed my teeth over his shoulder, then pulled back and spun him around to face me. I could feel him falling, his knees weak, so I shoved my thigh between his legs so he could rest his weight on me.

“What—” he started, but the rest of his sentence died when I grabbed his cock. His big doe eyes locked on mine.

I gave a single stroke from root to tip, and he tried to chase more, but I wouldn’t let him. “What did I tell you?”

“I—I don’t…what do you mean?”

“Before,” I said. I stroked him again, and his eyes rolled up in his head for a second. “When you know your smart little mouth is going to get the best of you, what are you supposed to do?”

He sneered. “Find you?”

“Yes.” I stroked him harder, faster, and the flush on his throat began to creep into his cheeks. “Find me, ask me to help you vent.” He groaned, and his head started to tip back, but I caught him by the jaw and held him. “Boden.”

“I hate you.”

“I don’t think you do.” Licking my lips, I stared at his. They were begging to be kissed. “I think you want this. I think you hate that I’m the only one who has ever been able to give you what you need.”

His jaw clenched. “No one fucking gets it. No one fucking gets me.”

“But I do.”

He breathed out through his nose. “I know.”

Leaning in, I ghosted a kiss over his jaw. “And here I am. So ask me, Boden. Ask me to make it feel better.”

There was a long pause, another test. And then I heard his voice beg so softly, “Make it better.”

“Mon petit feu,” I said, and his pupils blew wide. Tilting his jaw just a little, I leaned in and offered a kiss as my hand sped up. I thought he might reject me for a moment, that he might spit in my face and tell me to fuck off.

But then he surged against my chest, his lips crashing into mine. It was as rough as I stroked him, but as his orgasm began to build, he softened. His lips and tongue turned tender, no longer fighting me, instead letting me in.

I tasted his tongue, sliding my own against his, and he moaned deep in his chest as his hips rocked into my hand, and then he thickened and spilled. His foreskin slid wetly as he chased his pleasure against my palm.

“Fuck, fuck,” he gasped, shuddering as he started to come down.

Moving my hand away from him, I wrapped both arms around him and pulled him to my chest. “Do you need to sit down?”

He stiffened. “I should, uh…I should get out of here.”

I glanced down at him. “We’re both filthy.”

His cheeks darkened. “I don’t know what you want me to do about that. Lick it up?”

“Boden.” He was goading me again, but this time not for a fuck. “There’s a private shower down the hall. The door has a lock.”

He swallowed heavily. “I don’t…know if that’s a good idea.”

“Trust me, it is. I can’t let you leave all messed up like this.” I took his chin between my fingers again. “Let me do this. Please.”

His lips trembled for a second. “Fucking…why? Why do you want to do this? What the fuck does it matter?”

“Because you deserve it.”

He said nothing after that. He looked like he’d been slapped, and not in the fun way.

“I’ll make sure the hallway is clear,” I finally said in the silence between us.

“I won’t be able to move fast enough if someone starts coming,” he said, his voice tight. “You’ll have to carry me.”

“You’ll let me?”

He swore under his breath, a long string of French I only ever heard up north. “Yes,” he grunted. “I trust you.”

His pride was in tatters, but I had no regrets. His pride was made up of spite and anger, thanks to the way he’d been treated most of his life. I wanted to allow him a moment to rebuild. If I could do nothing else with the rest of my life except that, I would die content.

“Thank you,” I told him.

He looked up at me. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I told him without a shred of dishonesty. “I do.”