Pucked Over (Pucked #3)

Charlene rolls her eyes. “Of course.”


“Just checking.” Her gaze flips back to me. “Are you two telling me you’re unfamiliar with pearl necklaces?”

Sunny and I nod. I feel like we’ve been missing out on a lot over these important, formative years when sexual knowledge and discovery peak. Sunny’s clearly rectifying that now. So it’s just me, all by myself, with my casual-sex hockey friend who apparently doesn’t like blow jobs. Which I now suspect is weird, along with some of his other sexual quirks—like lights off and covers on. Why does he want to cover up all that hotness, anyway?

Violet grins. It’s a horrible, devious smile on her beautiful, evil face. She twists her ponytail around her hand. “You get the guy’s jizz all over your chest and throat.”

I must make a face.

“Don’t knock it ’til you try it. Alex gets so excited when I let him come on my boobs. Then he goes down on me; it’s awesome. And sometimes I’m too sore to deal with the monster cock. Also, jizz tastes awful, so letting him come all over my chest is a decent option.”

Sunny’s horror is understandable. I can’t blame her. That’s a lot of information about Alex she didn’t need.

“So I’m guessing Balls isn’t a pearl necklace kind of guy. Hmm. Maybe he thinks he’ll choke you with his dick if the rumors are true.” At my lack of confirmation or denial, she continues. “Based on his issue after your make-out session, I’m guessing it is.” She taps her lips with a sparkly finger. “It’s considerate, if you think about it—the not wanting you to choke on his dick part.”

I shrug. “But you don’t think it’s normal for a guy not to want a blow job if it’s offered?”

I’m met with more silence and stares. Violet pulls out her phone and starts typing.

“What are you doing?” Charlene asks.

“Calling Alex.”

“What? Why?” I rush to stop her, but she rolls over the back of the couch. It’d be graceful if she didn’t land on her ass.

She pops back up, grinning. “Hey, baby!”

She has him on video, so we can all hear and see him. “Are you drunk?” he asks.

“You bet your Super MC I am. When you guys get back from your fun night, my beaver’s gonna devour your wood, like whoa.”

“I don’t think my sister needs to know that.”

“She doesn’t care. Anyway, I have a question.”

“Fire away.”

“Do you like blow jobs?”

“Uhhh…”

“It’s not a trick question. Answer yes or no. Do you like blow jobs?”

“Of course I like blow jobs.”

“Great. Thanks. Give the phone to Buck.”

“But—”

“Do it and I’ll lollipop your dick later.”

There’s some chatter in the background, then Buck’s face appears on the screen. “Buck. Quick question. Do you like blow jobs?”

“Fuck, yeah. Sunny’s mouth is the best.” There’s a loud noise. “Fuck! Waters, get off me!”

“Put Lance on the phone.”

There’s some more clattering and loud noise before the phone is finally passed to Lance. Violet has to calm Alex down by pointing out he’s a hypocrite to get mad at Miller for liking BJs.

Lance’s strawberry-blond hair pops into view. “You don’t even need to repeat the question. The answer is definitely yes. I’d give up pizza for the rest of my life if I could get a daily blow job.”

“Good luck finding a mail-order bride to fulfill that dream. Put Darren on the phone.”

Darren shows up next. Violet asks the same question. Darren’s wearing that dark, secret smile again. “Charlene can answer that.”

“Awesome. We already know you love to pearl-necklace my bestie.”

I glance at Charlene, who’s blushing. “What is it about the quiet ones?”

“You have no idea,” she says with a similar devious grin.

Violet rolls her eyes. “Pass the phone to Balls, Mr. Grey.”

There’s a round of snickers. I don’t even want to know if that’s a joke. I step out of view so Randy can’t see me, but I can still see him.

“Balls.” Violet punctuates his name with a single hip thrust. “Do you like blow jobs?”

His hand comes up to run through his hair, his forearm and biceps flexing. “They’re all right, I guess.”

“They’re all right? All right? Are you telling me that having a woman’s lips wrapped around your cock while you fuck her mouth doesn’t do it for you?”

Randy goes sideways for a second before Alex’s face appears on the screen. “Violet, baby, you can’t say things like that to other guys. Ever. Not ever. ’Kay?”

We hear Buck laughing in the background.

“Is this about your Frankenweiner, Ballistic?” That sounds like Lance.

“Shut the fuck up, man!” There’s a loud crash. “That’s under the damn cone.”

“Hey! You’re gonna get us kicked out!” Alex yells. His face reappears. “I gotta go. Ballistic and Romero are about to rip each other’s heads off. See you in a bit, babe.” The screen goes blank, and everyone looks to me.

Violet raises a brow. “Frankenweiner?”

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