Irresponsible Puckboy (Puckboys #2)

“Good morning, husband.”


His eyes crack open, full of lust, and yep. This. No one has ever, ever looked at me that way. I tighten my hand around the head of his cock, vowing that I’m going to do everything in my power to be worthy of that look. “I almost thought I dreamed it …”

“Took me a moment as well.”

“And you … how are you—”

There’s a loud knock on the door, and we quickly spring apart.

“Boys? Time to wake up. Now.” Wow. Mira sounds pissed.

Tripp groans, draping his arm over his face. “Aaand there goes my dick. I’ll never get hard again, I swear.”

“You better.” I lean over and kiss his jaw. “Don’t be giving me a new toy to play with and then taking it away.”

He peers out at me. “You really—”

More banging. “Now. I’m not scared to come in there.”

“Fucking mothers.” Tripp throws his legs over the side of the bed. I guess our morning together is over, and now I’m faced with something more intimidating than giving my first-ever handjob. Making Tripp’s parents fall in love with me, not as his friend and teammate, but as his husband.

Damn, I’m nervous.

Tripp pulls on sleep shorts and walks out, but I duck in for the fastest shower ever first. I need to wash the smell of sweat and cum off me, but I’m anxious about keeping them waiting.

So I ignore my cock while I scrub myself with Tripp’s bodywash. I’m still not totally dry as I pull on my clothes and rush to meet them.

The three of them are around the table, talking. Tripp’s dad, Karl, is built like him with reddish-brown hair, and his mom is strawberry blonde and freckled. They’ve both passed on Tripp’s most dominant characteristics, and somehow he manages to look like them but not. Tripp is … he’s uniquely … him. And until recently, I didn’t think about his appearance in a sexual way. At least, I didn’t realize I was looking at him in a sexual way, but maybe I have been. If it’s this easy to fall into bed with him, doesn’t that mean on some level, I’ve always found him attractive?

My heart is in my throat as I approach and go for a totally casual greeting. “Morning, everyone.”

“It’s already midday,” Mira replies.

Karl almost grins, I swear he does. “Dexter. How are you?”

“Great. I forget how much I love the downtime in off-season.”

Mira hums. “So that’s why you married my son? Boredom.”

I cringe, and Tripp curses under his breath.

“What?” she asks. “I still can’t believe this is real. That you two would actually go and get married without telling anyone.”

I fill my cup with coffee and approach the table, trying for an innocent expression. “It wasn’t on purpose. We were just walking by the chapel and figured, hey, we’re in love, let’s do it. Then it just happened.”

“It just happened?” Karl asks skeptically.

“Yep.”

“Is ‘in love’ code for drunk?” Mira shoots back at me.

“Mom.”

“I’m sorry, Tripp, but I’m struggling to figure out how my son could get married without inviting us and then can’t even pick up the phone to let us know. Are you mad at us? Is it because we didn’t move to Vegas like Sienna to be with you?”

“What? No. It’s not …” I can tell Tripp wants to be honest. He’s so conflicted, I almost do it myself, but then finding out the wedding was all a sham is a fast way for them not to take me seriously. I have that problem enough.

Maybe I’m straight.

Maybe these feelings for Tripp are only because it’s Tripp. I don’t know. But I do know, if he wants it, I want to see where this goes. Maybe after the year we end up getting divorced anyway, but it won’t be from lack of trying on my end.

And the first part of a successful relationship is getting my in-laws to love me too.

“It’s all my fault.”

Three stares fly to me.

“I was so wrapped up in it all that I’ve been taking up every free second Tripp has. You know what the honeymoon period is like.”

Tripp closes his eyes, like he wishes he could shove the words back in my mouth, but his lips are pressed suspiciously tight. Win.

Mira at least looks less mad.

“I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at Tripp. I love him so much I wanted all his attention.”

“Well, that’s nothing new,” Karl says. “But a phone call is hardly a big ask.”

“You’re right. We also didn’t know how to tell you though, because the whole, ah, eloping thing was a surprise to all of us. A good surprise.” I direct that last part to Tripp. Because it was. So, so good. I’ve never been happier to be a dumbass. “Let me make it up to you. You’re my family now too.”

My winning smile barely cracks Mira’s annoyance. But while the change is subtle, I pick up on it. Now she just looks resigned to having me as a son-in-law. Resignation is a step up from irritation, so I’m calling that a win.

“Let’s start by taking you to lunch. Somewhere really fancy. Tripp, do you think Enzo could get us in at the—”

“You know,” Karl says. “I have always wanted to go to that place. You know the hotel. The really tall one with the restaurant and the zip line.”

“The Strat?” My voice squeaks. I pretend it didn’t happen. The thing most people don’t know about me, because they don’t need to, is I’m terrified of heights.

Planes aren’t great, but I can close the window shade and focus on my phone, and buildings like Tripp’s are fine because they’re not enormous. We’re only twelve stories up here.

It’s a world of difference from getting in an elevator, traveling higher and higher only to be spat out in a building that I swear to God is constantly swaying and looks on top of the world.

Tripp must pick up on my panic. “Sorry, Dad, I think that one will be booked out.”

“Not for us,” I manage. If my father-in-law wants Top of the World, he’s going to get it. And I will one hundred percent keep my cool and not focus at all on what would happen if the building suddenly collapses. “I’ll make the call.”

And one unfortunate part of being well-known is that as soon as I say Tripp and Dex Mitchale—the superior spelling—there’s a table for four waiting.

Fantastic.

I grab some clothes from the guest room and go to change in Tripp’s.

He follows me inside. “Enzo’s would have been fine.”

“Nope. Not for my in-laws. They get whatever they want.”

“We should have told them the truth.”

I turn to him, worried I’ve screwed up again. “Should we?”

He shrugs. “The thing is, I don’t really know what the truth is anymore.”

“We accidentally got married, and until last night we were still best friends, but then you sucked my dick and I kinda want to try it too?”

He laughs. “Yeah. So telling the truth is out, then.”

“Fair enough.”

Eden Finley & Saxon James's books