Pucking Sweet: An MMF Workplace Hockey Romance (Jacksonville Rays Book 3)
Pucking Sweet: Chapter 53

How do you know if you’re falling in love? I’ve never been in love before. Frankly, I’ve never even been in like. I’m twenty-six years old, and all the human interactions I’ve had for the last fourteen years have been transactional. Coaches? They give me instruction. Teammates? I play with them. Opponents? I play against them. You hit me, I hit you, and the Zamboni smooths over the ice. Sexual partners? Well that one’s obvious. We’re both just there to get off. It’s a good time. But in an hour, maybe if you’re lucky by the morning, the transaction ends, and we both move on.

Nothing about Cole has ever felt transactional. Poppy’s right, he’s just a nice guy. He’s the guy who invites the awkward rookies out to the movies. He picks up tabs left and right. He’ll order in food for the whole team just because he wanted to.

Now that I’m living with him, he does things for me all the time with no expectation of return. He’ll collect my dishes and wash them as we talk about our day. He folds my laundry and sets it in a clean pile on the end of my bed. He gets green apples at the store because he knows I prefer them to red.

But the Novy who keeps receipts wants a balanced ledger. You get me green apples? Boom, I get you bananas for your morning oatmeal. You fold my laundry? I vacuum the floor. In the first week, he was running me ragged with this tit for tat, until he finally grabbed me by the shoulders and said right in my face, “Will you just let me take care of you?”

Talk about an awkward moment. We held eye contact for a second too long, and then he was wandering off saying something about going for a run.

It’s official, I think I’m in like with Colton Morrow.

And don’t even get me started on Poppy.

I think she’s falling in love with me. God knows what I did to deserve it. I’m still the same asshole who pranks too often and jokes too much. At least twice a day, she says, “Do you take anything seriously?”

But at least twice a day she’s kissing me. She’s always touching me. She likes to hold hands. She likes when our fingers are laced, my thumb on top. I’ll stand in her kitchen, pouring her a glass of wine, and her hand will slip under my shirt to stroke her fingertips up my spine. She has to touch me. She has to soothe and caress.

What she’s not saying in words yet, she’s saying in action. She loves me.

And I’m fucking terrified.

I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how not to mess this up. I could never deserve her. I don’t deserve either of them. As friends, as lovers, it just doesn’t make sense. Lukas Novikov is the kid from the street who the other kids can’t bring home for dinner. He’s the guy on the team who sleeps on the assistant coach’s couch because no family would billet him.

Unwanted.

Unloved.

You harden yourself to the reality that everything is a transaction, and it makes it all easier. It numbs the pain. I put in my hours, I make the hits, I score the goals.

But Cole and Poppy don’t work that way. They won’t let me work that way.

And I’m scared.

I don’t know if I can change. I don’t know if I want to change.

Taking a deep breath, I knock on Poppy’s door. Cole wasn’t in the apartment, so I have to assume he’s over here. I wait for one minute. Two. Huffing, I knock on the door again, harder this time.

“I said, I’m coming, asshole,” Cole barks from within. He unlocks the door and jerks it open to reveal himself in a pair of basketball shorts, his hard dick barely concealed beneath the fabric.

“Am I interrupting something?” I say with a smirk.

“We’re getting you a fucking key,” he growls, pulling me in by the shirt.

I follow him down the hall into the kitchen just as Poppy comes walking out of her bedroom wearing nothing but his T-shirt. It hangs off her like a dress, hitting her at mid-thigh. Fuck, she looks good in our clothes. We practically share a wardrobe, so I can just flip the switch in my head that changes “his” to “ours.”

Her hair is done up in a messy braid over one shoulder, and her cheeks are pink. Her lips look thoroughly kissed. She looks goddamn delectable. My sweet Popsicle, tart like a cherry, sugary like a peach.

“Whatcha guys doing in here?” I tease, slinging my bags of sushi up onto the counter.

“Nothing,” Poppy says as Cole says, “Fucking.” He stands by the stove with his arms crossed over his bare chest, glaring at me.

I grin. “Well, I scored a shit ton of discount sushi at the store.” I dig into the bags, pulling the containers out and setting them on the counter. “California rolls, shrimp tempura, spicy crab and avocado, an eel roll for Pops. There are some dumplings in here too we can pan fry up quick. And a seaweed salad.”

They glance at each other before looking to me.

I pretend I don’t see it, determined to make them break first. “Yeah, I figured we could get it all set up in front of the couch and watch one of your stupid nature documentaries,” I go on. “Maybe, if we’re feeling crazy, we can even walk down the beach a few blocks and get some ice cream—”

“Lukas,” Poppy whines, one hand on her doorframe.

My grin spreads as I glance between them. The tension in this room is about to boil over. “Or, you know, we can shove this all in the fridge, and fuck till we’re dead?”

“Thank you,” she cries, hurrying back into her room.

I laugh out loud as Cole steps in, grabbing half the sushi. Together, we throw it all in the fridge. Then I’m shoving him into the cabinets for good measure, racing him to the bedroom. I stop in the doorway, eyes wide, to see Poppy already naked in the middle of her bed, fumbling with the latch on a little leather handcuff.

“I can’t get the other one back on without help,” she says.

My dick feels fucking spring-loaded for how fast it hardens. “Oh, what the fuck were you two doing in here?” I turn to glare at Cole. “Is this why it took you so long to answer the goddamn door?”

“Yes,” he replies, shoving past me. He moves to the bed. Leaning over, he kisses Poppy, taking her free hand. He presses kisses up her arm as he wraps the other cuff around her wrist, buckling it.

Poppy is smiling, her knees demurely folded over to one side, while her goddamn wrists are chained to her headboard. She looks over at me. “Do you wanna play?”

Well, fuck me dead.

I strip my shirt off and drop my shorts in two seconds flat, fisting my hard cock as I walk over to the bed. “Baby, I will play with you every day for the rest of forever.”

She’s shining. She’s incandescent. That’s a word, right? Fuck, I don’t even care. The word feels right.

“Taste her,” Cole commands, sinking down on the bed beside her.

I raise a brow at him.

“I want to watch,” he replies to my unasked question. We’re developing a good shorthand, as good as anything we have on the ice. We like the tag team. He fucks her to the edge of orgasm and then leaves her for me to finish. Then we switch.

And she’s such a fucking champ. She’s literally up for anything. Our girl is a powerhouse of sexual charisma.

I drop down onto my knees on the edge of her bed with a groan of relief. It’s not like I haven’t been inside her in the last twelve hours. But I swear to god, there is no enough. I crawl up the bed, bypassing her sweet cunt to get a taste of her mouth first. The feel of her soft skin, the scent of her, rosemary and mint and floral body soap—it fills my senses. Home. This is my home. This is where I want to live, right here in the cradle of her thighs.

I cup her breasts, sinking my tongue in her mouth. She hums her joy against my lips. Her wrists rattle the chains as she gives the cuffs a tug. “More,” she pants.

She’s right, I need all parts of me touching her. Dropping a hand between us, I angle my dick for her entrance and test her with my tip. Fuck, she’s so wet and ready. I don’t know what Coley did to her, and I don’t care. He made my girl ready to take this dick.

We both groan with relief as I sink in, burying myself between her legs.

“How does she feel?” asks Cole. He’s still sitting on the edge of the bed, his presence calm and controlling as he strokes his fingers down her arm, gazing down at her lovingly.

“Like heaven,” I pant, thrusting into her tight pussy. “Baby, you feel so fucking good.”

She whimpers, her legs around me as her arms strain against the cuffs. “Love your big cock in me. Fuck, you have such a pretty cock. Want your cock in my ass. Please, baby—”

I grip her jaw hard with one hand as I keep thrusting. “I fucking love your little porn star mouth.” I press a biting kiss to her lips that has her gasping. “The second we get our dicks in you, our sweet little glass of peach iced tea turns into a straight shot of whiskey.”

She hums with delight, her heels digging into my thighs as she rocks with me. “You boys make me feel so free—want your cocks in me every night—want your cum on my skin—”

“Fuck,” I shout, trying to hold back my release.

“She said she wants a dick in her ass,” Cole directs. “Are you gonna do it, or am I? Don’t leave her waiting.”

Okay, fuck me, director Cole is such a fucking turn on too.

“Get the lube,” I pant, pulling out of her cunt.

Colton reaches over to where the lube is already waiting on the bedside table. He hands it to me. Popping the top, I dribble some onto my fingers and rub them over her tight little hole. She whimpers, straining against her cuffs.

“Spread your legs wider and relax,” I say, soothing her with my free hand on her thigh. I brush up and down with slow strokes, changing my energy from feral to focused. She’s so goddamn responsive. You slap her tits a little, and she’ll claw your back like a wildcat. Rock into her slow, and she hums out a rolling wave of orgasms. Pet her, like I am now, and she turns to jelly.

“Please, baby,” she coos, her eyes bright as she looks at me.

I sink a finger past her tight ring of muscle, and she bites that bottom lip, arching her back. I play with my fingers, adding lube, and stretching her out. Cole hands me a condom, but I shake my head. “I wanna come in her tight little ass. I want her to feel my heat inside her. My cum is gonna drip out of her hole tonight.”

She sinks back against the pillow. “Oh god.”

I grab her legs and roll her hips back, prodding my dick at her entrance. “Nice and slow. Take me, baby.”

She relaxes, letting me sink my tip in.

“Such a good fucking girl,” I croon. Oh, that’s the other thing. Our girl will do almost anything for praise. Cole and I can all but get her off just with our words. “Look at you taking my thick cock in your sweet little ass.”

She whimpers, pulling on her cuffs. “Please—”

I sink in deeper, thrusting in and out of her tight heat nice and slow. “Give me a toy,” I say at Cole. “We’re gonna fill all her holes tonight.”

He wastes no time snagging a pink vibrating dildo from her drawer. Lubing it up for me, he slides it into her pussy as I lean back.

“Fuuuck me,” I groan. This tightness is beyond anything. I press back in to the hilt, holding myself there as Cole turns the little toy on.

“Oh—god—” she shrieks, jerking hard on the chains as she comes. The vibrations from the toy buzz along my cock, straight up into my goddamn chest. Her ass clenches around me, and I thrust, riding her orgasm as she bears down.

“Cole, get in her fucking mouth,” I grunt. “Fill her. Our fucking queen.”

He’s already on the move. Using her headboard as leverage, he balances overtop her in a crouch. “Take this fucking cock,” he commands. “That’s my good girl. Look at you. Choke on it, baby. That’s it…”

She arches up, mouth open, desperate for him. The sound of her gagging sends me spiraling. I drop my hand between us and grip the base of the vibrating toy. I move it with my thrusts, replaceing a rhythm that has her trembling, overwhelmed by her orgasm. I feel like some kind of mythical, two-dicked monster, pleasuring my girl in both her tight holes.

“I’m coming,” I shout. She cries out, clenching around me as the heat of my release fills her.

“Swallow what I give you,” Cole pants. “Such a good girl. Swallow it.”

She’s gasping, her whole body wrung out. She squirms around me, and I know the toy is too much. I slowly pull it out, dropping it glistening and vibrating onto the bed. Cole stands, his feet planted to either side of her head on the firm mattress. She looks down at me dreamily between his legs. Some of Cole’s cum is smeared on her chin. Her arms are still chained to the headboard.

Slowly, I pull out of her. Keeping her legs in the air, I look down, watching as I drip from her tight little hole. “Perfect,” I mutter, my heartbeat quickly returning to its resting rate. I trail my gaze back up her body to her beautiful blue eyes. All my walls are down. No more transactions, no receipts. I give her my words because I want to. I give them to her because she deserves them. “Poppy, you’re perfect.”