Page 17 of Sweet Pucking Revenge (2-Hour Quickies #6)

Grayson

Two Weeks Later

The Cancún sun turns Maggie's skin to gold. From our private beach at her father's resort, I watch her walk toward me in that tiny red bikini, still amazed she chose me. Chose us. Was willing to leave everything for us.

But I’ll make damn sure she never has to.

Now she's curled against my chest on the lounger, and I can't stop thinking about last night's dinner.

How her father's stern expression melted when I asked for his blessing in Spanish—thank you, Duolingo.

How Maggie's eyes filled with tears when I promised to make a life with her in both our worlds.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks, tracing patterns on my chest.

"How brave you are. Leaving everything you know..."

She props herself up to look at me. "Not everything. I'm taking the best part with me." Her smile turns mischievous. "Besides, Papá's already planning to convert that empty warehouse by the resort into a practice rink. Says his future grandchildren need to learn hockey somewhere warm."

"A rink? Here?"

"With a gym. He says if his daughter's going to marry a professional athlete, we need proper facilities for off-season training."

I pull her closer. "So we'll spend summers here?"

"And holidays. Best of both worlds."

"You're incredible, you know that?" I brush her hair back. "Most women would have run from the drama with Kyle. But you? You turned it into an opportunity to change your whole life."

"For the better," she adds. "Speaking of better..."

I lean in and kiss her, right there on the lounger.

At first it’s soft—sweet and sun-warmed—but then her fingers thread through my hair and tug, and I taste the heat rising between us.

The kiss turns hungry, her body arching into mine in that tiny red bikini, and suddenly I don’t give a damn who sees us.

“Fuck,” I breathe against her lips, “you’re gonna get us kicked out of this place.”

“Then you’d better take me inside,” she whispers, eyes blazing.

I scoop her up, bridal-style, and carry her up the private stairs to our suite, ignoring the amused looks of staff and the approving catcall from Dorian somewhere behind us. I barely get the door closed before I’m pinning her against it, mouths crashing together again, no restraint.

She peels off my shirt while I tug at the knots of her bikini. The top drops first, revealing sun-kissed skin and flushed nipples just begging for my mouth. I take one into my mouth and suck, slow and deep, loving the way she gasps and fists my hair.

“I love this,” I murmur against her breast.

“Then stop talking,” she pants. “And taste me .”

I drop to my knees without a second thought, sliding her bottoms down her legs. She steps out of them, bare and glistening, and leans back against the door with her thighs parted just enough for me to see everything.

“Look at you,” I groan. “Dripping for me already.”

Her breath catches as I drag my tongue up her inner thigh, teasing her, until I finally lick a slow, firm stripe over her slit. She whimpers. I part her with my thumbs and suck her clit into my mouth, licking it in circles, flicking and tasting and savoring every moan she gives me.

I push two fingers inside her while I work her clit, curling them until I feel her legs start to tremble. She’s already close—wound tight and desperate—and I don’t let up.

“Oh my god , Grayson—don’t stop—”

I don’t. I suck harder, fingers fucking her deeper, until she cries out and comes against my mouth, hips bucking, hands clawing at the door like she’s about to break apart.

I rise and kiss her again, letting her taste herself on my tongue. Her hands fumble with my swim trunks until my cock springs free, thick and aching and already leaking for her.

“Your turn,” she says with a wicked smile, sinking to her knees.

“Maggie—fuck—”

She wraps her hand around my base and licks the head slowly, teasing me, then takes me into her mouth inch by inch. Warm, wet, perfect. Her lips glide over my cock with practiced ease, her tongue swirling beneath, and I have to brace one hand against the wall just to stay upright.

“Jesus,” I groan. “You’ve ruined me.”

She hums around me, mouth full, eyes locked with mine like she knows exactly what she’s doing.

When I’m on the edge, I pull her up and kiss her hard. I carry her to the bed and lay her down gently, hovering over her. Her hair fans out against the pillows, her skin still flushed from the sun and the orgasm I just gave her.

“I want you,” she whispers.

“I’m yours,” I say. “Every part of me. Forever.”

I slide inside her slowly, savoring every inch. Her legs wrap around me, her nails rake down my back, and her body welcomes me like it was made for mine.

We move together—slow, deep, connected. It’s not rushed, not frantic. It’s everything. Every thrust is a promise. Every moan, a memory. Every gasp, a future.

“I love you,” she whispers in my ear as I drive into her, each stroke making her breath hitch.

“I love you more,” I groan, holding her tighter, faster now, chasing that edge with her.

We come together, her nails biting my shoulders as her body convulses around me. I spill into her with a growl, burying my face in her neck as we ride it out in each other’s arms.

We stay like that, tangled and breathless, the air thick with heat and salt and love.

She kisses my temple. “If that’s off-season training, I’m never leaving this bed.”

I grin, brushing a thumb over her swollen lips. “Then I guess we’re home.”

***

Later, back on the beach, as we lounge in the afterglow, Dorian joins us.

"?Hola, papis!” He’s wearing a tiny swimsuit and an enormous sombrero. “These Cancún cuties don't know what they're missing. All this..." He gestures down his body, "...and a green card too."

"Dorian!" Maggie laughs, looking at the group of surfers Dorian was checking out.

He flops onto the lounger beside us with a dramatic sigh.

"I still can't believe their faces," Dorian says. "The way Kyle sobered up instantly—priceless!"

Maggie traces circles on my chest. "Do you guys ever feel bad, though? About Lenora and Melody? I mean, Kyle deserved everything he got, but the women..."

"Not a grain of pity for Lenora," I say firmly. "You didn't see how she treated the arena staff, especially the cleaning crew. The way she talked to them..." I shake my head. "She and Kyle deserved each other."

"And Melody," Dorian adds, "we did her a favor, darling. Now she can find someone worthy instead of wasting her youth on that pendejo."

"Plus," I grin, pulling Maggie closer, "she got a fifty-thousand-dollar consolation prize."

"That she refused to give back!" Dorian cackles. "I can imagine her telling Lenora she'd have to pry it from her cold, dead fingers."

We all laugh, and I kiss Maggie's temple, grateful.

Her sister Gaby joins our group, settling into the chair next to us. "I still can't believe you're really doing it, Maggie. Moving to Vegas."

"Neither can our parents," Maggie says. "But someone had to break tradition first."

"You changed everything," Gaby sighs. "Maybe someday I'll be brave enough to do the same."

I catch the longing in her voice and remember how Niklas once joked about Maggie having a twin, after seeing our fake engagement photos.

Dorian starts fanning himself dramatically.

"Speaking of brave choices..." He looks at Gaby.

"Have you considered visiting your sister and Captain Dreamy in Vegas?

I know someone whose future friends will be very eligible hockey players.

" He winks at me. "Though I might sample the merchandise myself first."

Gaby blushes. I laugh, holding Maggie closer. My brave, brilliant woman who chose love over safety, change over tradition. Looking at her now, sunlit and smiling, I know we're just getting started.