Puck Shy (Carolina Comets)

Collin’s mouth is on mine before I can even finish saying it.

He pushes open my front door, then slams it closed with his foot, never once taking his lips off mine.

He pushes me against another wall, and all I can think of is how fucking hot his muscles have to look under his shirt as he holds me here. I peel the jacket from his body, needing to feel him.

His hands shove at the cardigan over my shoulders, pushing it away. It barely hits the floor before his fingers are pushing my top up, sliding against my overheated skin.

And then my shirt is gone too.

My legs are wrapped around his waist and all I’m wearing is a pair of jeans and my bra.

Damn am I glad I put a cute one on this morning.

Collin stares down at me, his green eyes taking me in. I can feel every inch they roam over, branding my skin with the fire inside of them.

“Bedroom,” he chokes out. “Where’s your bedroom?”

With a shaky finger, I point at the hallway behind him.

He releases his hold on me, letting my legs drop to the floor.

I almost wish he hadn’t because I can’t stand right now, I’m trembling with want so bad.

“Go.”

One word.

It’s all he says.

So, I do. I go.

I stumble past him, rushing down the hall to my room.

He’s right behind me, that warmth of his I’m really starting to like enveloping me like a blanket.

When I reach my bedroom, he flicks the light on, and my heart starts to race.

Lights on? What is he, some kind of maniac?

“I want to see you,” he explains, like he knows I’m internally freaking out. His hands circle my waist, tugging me back against him.

I feel his erection digging into my back as he picks up my hair and slides it out of his way. His lips dance across my exposed neck. I don’t even realize he’s unhooked my bra until the material begins to slip down my arms. I let it fall to the floor, acutely aware that I’m half naked and he’s fully dressed.

Normally, I’d be embarrassed to be so exposed in front of someone.

But not with Collin.

Never with Collin.

He cups my breasts, fingers plucking at my hardened nipples.

“I’ve been wanting to play with these since I saw your profile.”

“You have?” It comes out a pant as he nips at my neck, then drags his tongue along it.

“Yes.” He leaves one hand on my chest, the other lighting a path down my stomach and into the top of my jeans. His fingers play at the edge of my panties. “In one of your photos, you’re dressed up, wearing this hot navy-blue dress, and your tits are pushed up high.” Another nip. “Too fucking high. I bet everyone was staring at you that night.”

“Marine Corps Ball,” I tell him as he slips his hand into my underwear and over my neatly trimmed mound. “Ryan’s brother is a Marine.”

I don’t know why I tell him that. It doesn’t matter.

“Harper?”

“Hmm.”

It’s not a question. It’s a pure moan as the pad of his finger grazes my clit.

“Don’t talk about other men right now. Not when my hand is on your pussy.”

I nod and swallow, trying to keep myself standing as he draws slow, short circles over my swollen bundle of nerves.

I swear I could come right now just from this gentle touch.

The crazy part is I know it’s all Collin and not because I haven’t been touched in a long time.

I have no idea how long we stand there, him with one hand on my tit and one between my legs, but my bet is that it’s not long. I’m on the edge of coming, and I swear, if Collin just applied a bit more pressure and rubbed just two more circles, I’d explode.

But he doesn’t.

He pulls his hand away and I whimper.

He chuckles darkly. “Take your pants off and get on the bed.”

I don’t waste a single second. I yank my pants down my legs—leaving my underwear on—and crawl onto the bed, lying on my back.

Collin stands at the edge of the mattress, staring down at me with obvious desire in his gaze. He strips his shirt over his head, and those abs I’ve spent far too much time staring at are finally on display.

Fuck, he looks incredible. All defined muscle and sharp edges like he’s been chiseled out of stone.

I don’t paint often—and certainly not people—but I have the craziest desire to grab my easel and paintbrush and put this image on a canvas.

One knee lands on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. Slowly, almost too slowly, he makes his way to me.

He fits himself between my legs like that’s where he belongs, our bodies molding together like they’ve been made to fit. His cock is straining against his jeans. The material is rough against my skin but still feels so good as he grinds himself against me.

His lips seal over mine in a searing kiss. I let my hands roam his muscles, running them across his stomach and around to his back, feeling the dips and curves and the delicious hardness of him.

Meanwhile his hands are exploring too. His fingers dancing over my sides, tracing a path of their own. He kisses down my chin, down my neck, and down to my breasts.

He keeps his eyes on mine as he closes his mouth around a puckered nipple, sucking it into his mouth expertly. He grazes his teeth over the sensitive spot, then soothes away the bite with a swirl of his tongue. He gives the same treatment to the other one, back and forth and back again until I’m rubbing my pussy against him, needing something to help relieve the blinding ache between my legs. There’s no way he doesn’t feel the wet spot I’m leaving behind.

Understanding what I need, he gives my nipples one last taste, then drags his mouth down my body, not stopping until he’s between my legs.

He nips at the sensitive parts of my thighs, and I can’t help but think of his promise earlier to do just this thing in places nobody would see.

“Do you like these?”

“What?”

“These underwear…” He grazes a knuckle over me and I groan. “Do you like them?”

“I…yes?” I don’t know. I can barely think. I can’t even remember what I’m wearing right now.

“Well, that’s too bad, isn’t it?”

I hear the material rip and a rush of cool air hits my exposed pussy.

Without warning, his tongue is there, pushing into my folds. He gives me several long, playful licks, then sucks my clit into his mouth.

I swear I stop breathing.

My whole body quakes as I come harder and faster than I ever have before.

He doesn’t let go. Just keeps licking and sucking at me, draining me. Bringing me right back to the edge like some magician.

Just when I’m about to come again, he pulls his mouth away.

“Oh my god. I hate you.”

He laughs, crawling back up my body. “Based on the way your cunt was squeezing my tongue, I highly doubt that.”

Cunt.

It sounds so dirty, the way it rolls off his lips and against mine. It’s…oh god. It’s kind of hot.

He presses his mouth to me and I taste myself on his lips…on his tongue.

I want to cry when he pulls away, but when he pushes off the bed and stands, then flicks open the button of his jeans, I decide it’s okay.

He reaches into his back pocket and retrieves his wallet. He grabs a condom from inside—I don’t want to think about why he has it on the ready—and tosses it at me.

His hands go to his jeans again and he lifts a brow, waiting.

If he thinks I’m about to stop this, he’s wrong.

I want this too damn badly to stop. I want to feel him on top of me…inside of me. I want to watch him fall over the edge just like I did.

When I don’t say anything, he slowly pulls the zipper down, and I don’t take my eyes off him for a second. Not when he pushes his jeans and underwear off. Not when he crawls back onto the bed, leaning over me on his knees as he peels open the condom. Not when he rolls the rubber down his length, stroking himself a few times as his eyes drift to the exposed place between my legs. And not when he lowers himself on top of me, wrapping a leg around his waist and lining his cock up with my entrance.

It’s only when he slowly slips inside of me on a groan that I close my eyes and relish the way he feels as he stretches me more than I’ve ever been stretched before.

He’s big and it hurts, yet it feels so good at the same time.

“Look at me,” he instructs.

I do.

“Fucking Christ,” he mutters, holding himself off me, not daring to move as I adjust to his size. “You feel amazing. So fucking good. Better than I imagined.”

“You imagined this?”

“Too many fucking times.”

He gulps once. Twice. And I don’t miss the tiny beads of sweat beginning to form at his temples.

“Collin?”

“Yeah?” It’s strained sounding, but I hear him.

“I thought you said hard and fast.”

His eyes snap to mine at my words, and it’s like something in him breaks.

He lets go of all the restraint, going onto his knees, and plows into me with expertise. I try not to think about how much practice he has compared to me, how he’s likely honed this skill of his as much as his skill on the ice.

He drops his forehead to mine, pushing into me again and again.

“Only you, Harper,” he whispers. “Only you.”

I don’t know what he means, but I soak in his words all the same.

I run my hands over his back, pulling him closer as he continues to pump into me. I love the way his muscles strain against my hands, the way his body moves on top of mine.

He slides a hand between us, his finger finding my clit, stroking me in those decadent circles again.

My second orgasm hits me out of nowhere and I fall apart around him.

“Fucking beautiful,” he says, stroking me once more.

Like he was waiting for me all along, he grabs my hips, pounding into me harder and faster until finally, he stills. His mouth drops open, eyes screwed shut tightly, head thrown back as he comes.

He collapses onto the bed beside me. My hands are shaking as I lie there, completely spent.

The only sound in the apartment is our arduous breathing, and I bet if he tried really hard, Collin could hear the sound of my heart trying to burst out of my chest.

This is just casual, Harper. Nothing to get attached to.

I just have to keep reminding myself of that.

The morning light reaches across the bedroom and into my eyes, pulling me from my dream I really don’t want to wake up from.

I dreamt I was in bed with Collin. Dreamt he buried his face between my legs until I came and came. Dreamt he fucked me hard, then slow, then woke me up with his face between my legs again.

I stretch against my blankets, my body sore and tired.

And that’s when it hits me.

Last night wasn’t a dream.

All those things happened.

Collin.

I peel my eyes open, searching for him, but his side of the bed is cold, like it’s been empty for some time.

I sit up, looking around the room for any sign of him. His clothes that were strewn across the floor are gone. The towel he used after a shower—the one he threw on the floor by the dresser—is nowhere to be found.

He’s gone.

I try not to let myself be disappointed by that, because of course he’s gone. I’m sure staying over after sex doesn’t scream casual. Besides, it’s not like I expected him to be cooking me breakfast or anything.

He left because I essentially asked him to.

A goodbye would have at least been nice though.

I pull myself out of bed, willing my brain to ignore the aching, and make my way to the bathroom.

I do my business and hop in the shower, trying to wash away how I’m feeling right now.

When I finally make my way into the kitchen, I pause.

Sitting on the table is a bright, baby-blue box. There’s a piece of paper next to it.

I feel guilty being upset with him and assuming he left without so much as an afterthought, but more so I’m mad at myself for even caring so much because I know I shouldn’t.

I reach for the paper, and a grin covers my face before I even read what it says.

Mornin’, gorgeous.

I hope these donuts make up for the fact that I had to bail early. They’re from a local food truck. It’s one of my favorite places in the city. I’ll take you in person next time, if you’ll let me. Man, do I hope you’ll let me.

Col

P.S. Did you know that you sing in your sleep? Your parents were right to pay you to not try out for American Idol.

I peel open the lid, and sitting inside are two donuts: one glazed and a chocolate one that’s drizzled with white icing.

I go for that one first.

I take a bite and nearly moan.

He remembered.

Hidden inside the cake donut is creme filling, and it reminds me exactly of a Ding Dong, only more delicious.

I make a cup of coffee—a combination of salted caramel and mocha syrup—and take the other donut to sit outside on my patio.

I realize then that I don’t have Collin’s number, so I pull up the BeeMine app to message him.

HorrorHarper: First, thank you for the donuts. They’re amazing.

HorrorHarper: Second, the answer is yes. You can take me in person next time.

HorrorHarper: Third, thank you for last night. It was…wow. I don’t even have the words.

HockeyGuy69: I’ll gladly take wow.

HorrorHarper: Cocky much?

HockeyGuy69: Confident.

HockeyGuy69: I’m sorry I had to leave early. Morning skate. It’s usually optional on game days, but I kind of needed to be here.

HorrorHarper: Totally understand. Though I was a bit worried you had just bailed.

HockeyGuy69: I knew I should have put the donuts on the pillow. But you’re kind of a bed hog, and I didn’t want you rolling over on them.

HorrorHarper: I appreciate that. I mean, I’d have still eaten them, but thank you.

HockeyGuy69: Someone’s already asked about my cut.

HorrorHarper: LOL! What’d you tell them?

HockeyGuy69: The truth. A drag queen beat me up with her shoe.

HockeyGuy69: They won’t stop teasing me.

HorrorHarper: Is it wrong to say I hope it scars? Can you imagine explaining how you got that scar to your future wife and kids?

HockeyGuy69: With any luck, I won’t have to.

HockeyGuy69: I already can’t wait to see you again.

HockeyGuy69: Can I call you later?

HorrorHarper: I’d like that.

I send him my phone number, and my heart flutters when a text comes through right away.

Collin: In case I didn’t make myself clear, last night was WOW for me too, Harper.

Collin: It’s gonna be stuck on repeat in my head all day.

Me: For me too.

Collin: I gotta go. We have some meetings starting.

Collin: Watch my game tonight?

Me: I will.

Collin: See? I knew I’d get you to like hockey.

Me: And all it took was a ding dong…donut.

Collin: *narrows eyes*

Collin: Nothing to do with the orgasms…PLURAL…that I gave you?

Me: I guess they were rather persuasive.

Collin: That’s what I thought.

“Ha! I knew it! You’re totally going to be a hockey whore now!”

I glare at Ryan from across the table. “Shh! Keep your voice down.”

I glance around the sports bar we’re at, making sure nobody is paying any attention to us.

When Collin asked me to watch his game and I said yes, I didn’t think about the logistics of it. I don’t have cable and couldn’t tell you what channel to even look for a hockey game on, so I enlisted Ryan’s help. She suggested a sports bar.

I think really she just wanted to go out after her night at home nursing her broken heart over Steven.

“I’m not a hockey whore. I don’t even know what that is.”

“I don’t either. I don’t know if it’s a thing. I just can’t believe you of all people are actively seeking out a sport to watch. He must have banged you good last night.”

“Ryan!”

“What? He did! I saw the way you limped in here.”

I hide my face behind my hands, hoping and praying nobody else is listening in on this embarrassing conversation.

But the truth is…he did bang me good.

So, so good.

Between sleeping in and getting started on my projects late and not being able to think about anything other than Collin’s hands on my body, I’ve been a mess today.

I finally gave up around four and called it a day, soaking in the bath to relieve the stiffness I’ve been feeling.

“You’re awful,” I tell her as she peels my hands away.

“And you love it. Besides, if I don’t tease you, who will?”

Collin.

“Oh god. You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

“What? Am not.”

“Are too. You’re doing that dopey grin thing you do when you think about him.”

I give her another murderous glare, and she just laughs.

“So, other than the incredible sex, how was it really? Do you want to see him again…like outside the bedroom?”

That’s the thing.

The sex was great, but I think the reason it was so great was because of how good it felt being around him, how easy it was.

I think any other guy I’ve ever dated would have run the moment they found out they accidentally took their date to a drag show. And they certainly wouldn’t have been spending whatever little free time they had at an animal shelter. They wouldn’t have held the doors open for me and helped me into their car. They wouldn’t have made me laugh until I nearly peed my pants.

With Collin, it feels different.

“It was really good,” I tell Ryan. “Almost too good.”

“Too good?”

“Yeah. Like you know when you go see a movie and everything about it is perfect. The meet cute, the music, the background stories…you love it all. But then you get home and you read the reviews and see all the little things you missed and it totally ruins the movie for you? That’s what it’s like with Collin. It’s perfect and I’m just waiting for the reviews to roll in to find out that he’s not as great as he seems.”

“Okay, okay. I hear what you’re saying…” She leans her elbows on the table. “But what if it is? What if it is that good and that perfect?”

“That’s not possible.”

She frowns. “Isn’t it though? I mean, look at Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell. They’re not even married and they’re thriving.”

“They were the exception. And besides, you’re just saying that because you’re a total hopeless romantic and you’re hoping we’re going to have some epic love story.”

Her lips curve upward. “That’s true. I am. But maybe I’m right this time.”

“You’re not. It’s just casual.”

“He said that?”

“We both did.”

“Hmm. Interesting.”

“Why is it so interesting?”

“Nothing,” she says, then points to the TV. “Look, your man is back on.”

I let her have her not-so-subtle attempt to distract me from our conversation, mostly because I actually do find myself wanting to watch Collin play.

But I don’t forget her comment all night long.

Not when the Comets win and Collin calls me after the game, asking to come over.

Not when he strips me out of my clothes and lays me down on the bed, sliding into me slowly.

And not when I fall asleep thinking just maybe…we could be something more.