Pucked Over (Pucked #3)

I put an arm around Lily’s shoulder and pull her to me because one of the guys keeps looking over at her, and I don’t like it. I glare at him, and he drops his gaze to the floor.

Thankfully, the next time the elevator stops we can get off; otherwise I’m liable to start something I shouldn’t. I’m really worked up, and I don’t think it’s going to get better until I’m inside Lily. I shoulder-check the guy on the way out because he’s an idiot and won’t move to make it easy for Lily to get past him.

Taking her hand, I guide her to my room. I jam the card in the door and glance over my shoulder. She’s standing behind me, fidgeting nervously with the frayed strap of her bag. Her eyes go wide when she looks at me, probably because of my expression. I imagine it’s fairly fucking intense. “I hope you weren’t planning on getting any sleep tonight.”

“And here I thought we were gonna have a little snuggle and a nap.” A wavering smile pulls at her perfect, luscious lips. Her words are meant to be snarky, but her voice is soft. “Of course I don’t plan on sleeping,” she adds. “What the hell would be the point of me coming all the way here for that?”

This is what I need. Confirmation that she’s here for one reason and one reason only: To get fucked.





Chapter 19


All the Fires in the World



LILY



I take three steps into the room and jump at the sound of the door slamming shut. I turn to find Randy latching the safety. He advances on me, and I take a cautious step back. I don’t know why—okay, I do. His eyes are fiery with lust, but for some reason he looks angry. Also, his hands are balled into fists. He must notice me staring at them because he flexes and releases them a couple of times, then rolls his head on his shoulders. I’m not sure if I’m the reason for his current state, but there’s something exhilarating about having a man like Randy look like he’s about to lose control. It’s also a little unnerving.

I have to pee, but I’m thinking he’s not going to be interested in letting me go right now. I back into the wall, and he stops coming at me when we’re six inches apart. His warm, minty breath washes over my face.

“I tried to call you this afternoon, and yesterday.” His words are heavy, dropping like boulders.

“I called back. And messaged.”

“Canada screws with my phone.”

“We’re like that. Passive on the outside, messing with everyone on the down low.” I’m nervous, more than I’ve been before with Randy. I can’t read his mood, and I showed up unexpectedly.

He looks so good right now. He’s wearing a pair of black dress pants and a white button-down, the top two buttons undone. His red tie hangs loose, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. The ink drives me nuts.

Looking at him is like being punched in the face by Medusa. He’s the kind of beautiful that makes women turn into mindless, sex-crazed puck bunnies. I get it now. I’ve had this man inside me. He can fuck like a champion.

It’s the reason I Ubered here. I have to leave in five hours, and I’m positive Randy’s not kidding about getting no sleep tonight. I don’t care. I can deal with being tired. That’s what coffee and energy drinks were created for.

My gaze flips up to his, and I get trapped there. I feel like I’m locked in a room with a panther, not a man. He leans in a little closer and his tongue glides along his lip, the skin glistening in the dim light. I notice, once again, that all but the bathroom light is off. He’s always setting the mood. I act on instinct and pounce. Literally, like a cat, I jump him.

I thread my fingers through his hair, and they go easily this time since it’s held back by nothing. It’s thick and gorgeous and dark. Holding on to the back of his neck, I propel myself up, our lips colliding, teeth clashing.

Randy grips my ass and presses his hips into mine, pinning me against the wall. I always end up pinned against something. Beds are the nicest since they’re soft. He groans and starts rocking his hips, like he’s planning to fuck me right through our clothes—not that I’m wearing many. My legs are cold thanks to the stupid skirt. I forgot to pack leggings, but I wasn’t stopping home to get a pair.

He palms my ass with one hand and cups the back of my head with the other. At first I think it’s to protect me from any kind of banging. But he curls his fingers in my hair and tugs my head back. It’s not gentle, but it’s not rough either.

I lift my chin, and his mouth descends on my throat. His lips are so soft; his teeth make me shiver. “I need you naked. Now.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

He carries me over to the bed, which is a relief. I’ve been on the ice all day and a prone position is much preferred. So is a mattress over a wall. Randy finds the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head. His eyes dart to my chest. I bought a new bra two days ago when I started toying with the idea of cabbing it here.

“This looks new.”

“I haven’t worn it much.”

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