Page 54 of Pucking Around

I hate keeping him at arms-length all the time. Not that he’s very good at staying away. Most guys might interpret a girl’s radio silence as disinterest, but I think it just spurs Jake on. He texts me all day, every day, and sometimes calls. He’s sneaky about it too, usually including offers to get food or he makes it clear other people will be there too. And hey, a girl’s gotta eat.

If we don’t slow down, people are going to catch on that we’re more than just colleagues. But I’ll worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, I just want to dance. Taking a sip of my mojito, I lead him behind me. The music is pumping, and the energy is primal as Jake and I weave our way around the edge of the dance floor. His hand is on my hip, his fingers slipping so easily inside the edge of the fabric.

We duck into the dark corner under the lip of the upper balcony and his hand goes to my waist, his other hand holding his beer. He pulls me against him, my ass bumping against his hips. He’s still rock hard, his cock angled up, tucked into the belt of his slim-fit charcoal dress pants. He looks like a dream in a short-sleeved white button up undone at the neck. The shirt fits his muscles just right, giving him shapely biceps I want to lick.

Pull it together, girl.

He keeps his hand on my hip as we start to sway with the press of the other human bodies. I keep my ass tucked against his hardness as we dance, my arm lifting up to wrap around his neck. He trails his fingers up and down my bare side, rocking into me with the beat. We’re practically fucking with our clothes on.

I totally lied in the van. If he put his hand inside my panties, he’d feel how wet I am for him. I’m fighting the urge to drag him to the bathroom. I want him on his knees. I want him drowning in my pussy, and I want to scream his name as I come apart.

It wouldn’t even be a question. If I ask, he’s saying yes. Hell, he’d probably toss me over his shoulder like a caveman and use his defense skills to body check people out of his way. I smile picturing it.

God, what I wouldn’t give to have him toss me around a bit in his uniform. I’ve never gotten a full show of the guys getting all their gear on. I’m curious to know how all the pieces work…how they all come off…

“Yo, Compton!”

I gasp, pulled from my dirty thoughts as Langley elbows his way towards us.

Jake is on edge, his arm still at my waist. “What?”

“Aspen Alert,” Langley calls, pointing up to the far side of the balcony.

Jake goes from turned on to pissed off in the blink of an eye. “What?” he barks, spinning around. His eyes narrow as he peers over the purple and blue strobing lights of the dance floor.

I turn too. “What’s happening?”

“Oh, fuck no. This isnotfuckin’ happening!”

“She clocked him, man. Went right for him,” says Langley. “She had to know he was here. Total bunny move.”

“What are we talking about?” I shout, still trying to see through the flashing lights.

“Succubus sighting,” Langley yells in my ear.

“Two o’clock,” adds Jake. “Rays VIP. The blonde talking to Caleb.”

And then I see her. Tall and leggy in a black, sparkly body-con dress. She’s got a long, sleek ponytail. As I watch, she flips it over her shoulder, smiling as she talks to Caleb. I cringe inside as my first emotion is jealousy. Here I am, practically riding Jake’s cock through my clothes, and I’m feeling territorial that another woman would dare talk to Caleb?

“Who is she?” I ask.

“Caleb’s toxic ex,” Jake replies. “Come on. I gotta go save his ass.”

He weaves our fingers together and pulls me off the dance floor. We follow Langley along the edge of the main floor, heading for the stairs. The bouncer checks our stamps and lets us pass.

It’s quieter on the stairs so I say, “What’s going on?”

“The busted bunny talking to Caleb is Aspen Albright,” Jake replies. “They dated for over a year in college. She was his girlfriend when we both graduated and moved to Pittsburgh to start training with the Penguins. He broke his knee game one and she didn’t even wait two weeks before she was riding another player’s dick.”

“She’s a total bunny, man,” says Langley. “They only see green.”

“She dumped him?” I ask.

“Yeah, while he was still in the fuckin’ hospital,” Jake replies.

We round the top of the stairs, and I can see the Rays VIP area better. Caleb is no longer standing. He’s sitting in a club chair, a glass of what looks like a vodka tonic in his hands. But I’ve learned in the last few weeks that he doesn’t drink.

Bunny Barbie is standing in front of him, talking with her hands, laughing and smiling like a beauty queen. I’ve met enough groupies and celebrity chasers to knowexactlywhat she’s doing. She doesn’t want Caleb. She’s just using him. She’s standing above him to keep herself on display. Who she’s really performing for is the tablebehindhim. The table of Rays. I see Morrow and Novy and Karlsson. Even J-Lo and Sully are there. Both guys are happily married, but I’m sure she’s not picky.