Page 127 of Pucking Around

“Look at you both,” I murmur, my heart breaking open. “I love you,” I say, the words pouring out of me without conscious though. “I love you both so goddamn much. I’ll die without you.” I step in closer, my hands on each of their shoulders. “Don’t ever leave me behind,” I whisper, taking the shot I never expected to take. Sudden death, right? Holy shit, this stuff is heady. “Be extraordinary together, take on the world, only let me come too.”

Rachel whimpers around Jake’s cock, her left hand leaving his hip to brace mine instead. Jake loosens his hold on her hair, his hand sliding around me to graze down my back. With the three of us touching, Jake tips his head back and blows in her mouth, his hand gripping sharp to my shoulder as he shudders.

Rachel slips her mouth off Jake’s cock. Slowly, she stands. She’s naked and breathtaking. Strong inside and out. We all know who really runs our shit. Standing there like a queen, her eyes glassy with lust, she breathes heavily through her nose. Raising both hands, she snaps her fingers and points to the floor in silent command.

Jake and I drop like rocks to our knees. I have to compensate, only touching down with my left knee, my right knee bent like I’m in a football kneel.

She takes hold of our chins and tips them up, the silent command in her eyes. I don’t fucking hesitate. I open my mouth and she leans over with a smile, spitting the mixture of our cum into my mouth. I swallow with a groan, letting the salty taste coat my tongue. It’s me and it’s Jake. It’s her. It’s the three of us together. The start of something completely new.

She turns to Jake with a smile, and he doesn’t hesitate either, opening his mouth as she hovers over him, letting the cum dribble down onto his waiting lips. Jake swallows, licking his lips with a soft groan. She swallows the rest. Then she brushes a hand through our hair at the same time and smiles. “What good fucking boys,” she coos. “So pretty on your knees for me.”

The surprise must be evident on my face because she does a little laugh and smiles, a queen triumphant. When we started this scene, I was in control. Now I’m on my fucking knees and loving it, ready to beg for more.

She brushes her fingers down my cheek, mirroring the motion on Jake. “Now…who’s going to be the first to take me upstairs and fuck my ass til I scream?”

We can’t scramble to our feet fast enough.

57

It turns out traveling under the radar with Mars Kinnunen is more difficult than it seems. The man is a 6’5” tatted, bearded, Viking. He sticks out in any crowd, regardless of his pro athlete status. As we move through the airport, people don’t have to know he’s one of the NHL’s top goalies for all eyes to turn our way.

And apparently, his idea of a Clark Kent disguise is wearing sunglasses with his hair down. I’ve never seen him wear it down before. It’s thick and textured, a blond lion’s mane hanging just above his shoulders. He finishes the look with a pair of black dress pants cuffed at the ankle and a crisp, grey t-shirt that hugs all his muscles. The man oozes effortless wealth and sophistication.

Meanwhile, I’m all but jogging at his side in my uniform of high-waisted yoga pants, crop top, and black $5 flip-flops. Whatever, it’s the airport. I didn’t know the dress code for the trip was GQ casual. I grip tighter to the strap of my overnight bag. “Do I know why we’re rushing?”

He glances down at me, slowing to a halt. I can’t see his eyes behind his dark Ray-Bans. “What?”

I puff out a breath, flipping the messy tendrils of dark hair off my face. People glide past us at a more casual pace, wheeling bags and chasing kids. “Is there a fire or something I don’t know about? You rushing to the bathroom before you have an accident?”

His blond brows raise behind his sunglass frames. “What?”

“God—slow down, Mars,” I huff, dropping the jokes. “I can’t keep up with you. We look like a miniature pony chasing after a Clydesdale.”

“What?” he says for a third time, his lips pursed in confusion.

I snort a laugh. “Just forget it,” I say, waving him off. “As you were, Kinnunen. We’ve got our own tickets anyway. I’ll just see you at the gate.”

“You want me to walk without you?”

“Well, it’s kind of inevitable if you’re gonna walk so damn fast!”

I can see that it finally clicks. “Oh,” he says. “My apologies.”

Jeezus.We got there in the end, I guess.

“I was just walking,” he adds.

“Yeah, well, keep walking,” I say, gesturing down the terminal. “Don’t worry about me, Mars. You go on, and I’ll catch up.”

“But I want to walk with you.”

He says it so softly, I could also imagine he didn’t say it at all. Before I can reply, a trio of guys press in from behind us, wheeling their bags.

“Shit, fellas, what’d I say?” calls the big guy in front. “ItisMars Kinnunen. Yo, man. You’re amazing!”

Ilmari goes stiff for the briefest of moments before he transforms. It’s like who he just was with me steps inside a closet for a quick change and out comes Mars the NHL Goalie. He puts on a weird, fake smile that doesn’t meet his eyes and thanks the guys, signing something for each of them and letting them take a picture with him.

All the while, he doesn’t let me move from within arms-reach of him. I tried twice, but both times he just stuck his hand out, wrapping it around my upper arm to keep me close. He shoos them politely away and his hold on my arm relaxes.