PUCKED (A Standalone Romantic Comedy) (The Pucked Series Book 1)

VIOLET

My state of blissful wonder is short-lived in the face of Kirk’s ill-timed question. I’m beginning to think locker-room sex wasn’t the best plan. Especially during the third period. Too bad I’ve already done it.

Alex holds my head against his neck, protecting me from the eyes of his teammates.

“Wait a minute. Violet? No way! No fucking way! NO FUCKING WAY!” Buck shouts. “Is your dick in my SISTER?”

It’s so humiliating it’s laughable. It’s bad enough I’m naked, wrapped around my . . . Alex, who I’m in a yet-to-be-defined relationship with. Having my stepbrother yell at him while he’s still inside me is beyond reasonable levels of mortification.

I lift my head so I can state the inappropriately obvious. “I’m your stepsister.” As if technicalities are going to stop the rumble about to go down. “And Alex can stick his dick in me whenever he wants.” The last part is unnecessary. I’ve ignored Buck’s warning and hooked up with Alex, except I’ve taken it to the next level by getting it on in a public venue with all his teammates as witnesses.

I might as well throw dynamite in a gasoline fire.

“I’LL KICK YOUR ASS, WATERS!” Buck continues his bellowing. His volume is excessive as he’s mere feet away.

Alex doesn’t so much as flinch. He strokes a gentle palm down my back, a stark contrast to the angry, dirty sex we’ve just engaged in.

Breaking the connection, Alex unwraps my legs from his waist and sets me down gently, using his body to shield my nakedness from Buck and Kirk and whoever else is watching the show. I’m having a hard time standing without assistance so I grab his shoulders. He wasn’t lying about fucking me until I couldn’t walk.

“Let me handle this, baby.”

“Did you just call her ‘baby’? How long has this been going on? Get your damn hands off my sister!” Buck’s face is an unnatural shade of red; verging on purple. He looks like he’s going to have a heart attack.

I’d love to put my clothes on, but they’re strewn all over the floor. I can’t reach them without someone getting a glimpse of my well-used cooter. Alex can’t get them for me, either, as he’s acting as a human shield, guarding my naked body from the teams’ hungry eyes. Okay, maybe I’m being a little over dramatic. Most of them aren’t looking at all.

“Waters, I’m not going to tell you again. Get away from my sister.”

Buck’s tone has changed to the quiet-calm voice he uses when he’s so furious he can barely function. I’ve seen him like this a couple of times before. Usually over Xbox. It’s not good. I have a feeling he’s going to try to break Alex.

Alex spins to face him. Since I’m looking at the floor, I see his dick swing in the process. I hold back the inappropriate laughter when I hear it slap against his thigh. I love his penis. I want to give it a sponge bath and dress it up like a super hero.

Peeking over his shoulder; I see a few more team members standing behind Buck, gawking rather than going about their business. I can’t blame them. This is rather entertaining.

Buck shifts his angry glare from Alex to me. “What’s wrong with you?” He’s back to yelling.

“Pardon me?” I ask, all snarky.

“Do you think we could get a towel?” Alex asks.

“Screw you! I’m not getting you shit,” Buck replies.

“It’s not for me, asshole. It’s for Violet. Unless you’d like the entire team to see her naked.” Alex matches him, even voiced and calm.

Darren, who’s valiantly trying to keep his eyes averted, tosses a towel to Alex, who in turn hands it to me. Once I’m wrapped up, Buck takes a swing at Alex. It’s totally unexpected; at least I don’t expect it. Apparently Alex does. He grabs me around the waist and moves us out of the way. I feel the whoosh of air on my cheek as Buck’s giant fist misses my face by mere inches.

Alex sets me down and shoves Buck, hard. “What’s wrong with you? You could’ve hurt her.”

Buck still has skates on; he stumbles backward, struggling to stay upright. Darren and Kirk move in as if to break them up.

“Enough!”

Gripping my towel with one hand to keep it in place, I put a palm on Buck’s chest. It’s gross how sweaty he is. His jersey is drenched. Alex is right behind me, his chest against my back. I’m a miniature person compared to the two of them; they glare at each other over my head.

“What the hell are you doing with him?” Buck spits on my face as he yells.

This is so repulsive. I’ll never have sex in a locker room again. I could get plantar warts from standing on the dirty floor without shoes. Okay, so the floor isn’t dirty at all. This is like a damn hotel room except it smells like sweaty men, hockey equipment, and sex—thanks to Alex and me.

“Can you quit it with the yelling? I’m standing right here. I can definitely hear what you’re saying just fine without you trying to shower me in saliva and shatter my eardrums.”

Buck gestures to Alex, his expression reflecting his disbelief. “He fucks anything with a pulse!”

“Says the walking venereal disease.” God, I’m good today.

“I bag my shit! I don’t have fungus growing on my dick. I can’t say the same for this asshole.” Buck points an accusatory finger at Alex.

“What the hell is going on here? The coach comes in, surveying the scene with a critical, confused eye. “Who hired a hooker? You know the policy on that.”

“Oh my God.” I grip the towel tight and hide behind my hand, utterly mortified.

“Watch it, Coach. That’s my sister.” Buck’s tone, while controlled, holds warning and a lot of pent-up anger. I’m thinking that’s mostly due to walking in on the locker sex—oh, and the fact that I’m now being pegged as a puck bunny of the lowest form.

“Your sister’s a hooker?” Coach asks.

What the hell? Is everyone in this room below intellectual average other than Alex? More importantly, do I look like a hooker? I suppose my nakedness paints me as such. I peek out from between my fingers—I’ve ascribed to the childish notion if I can’t see anyone, no one can see me either.

Alex hulks out again, taking a protective stance in front of me. “She’s not a hooker; she’s my girlfriend!” he roars.

Literally, he roars. It’s loud and guttural. It makes my ears hurt since he’s so close.

Getting caught having sex is only the tip of the embarrassment iceberg. Now that the coach has accused me of being a prostitute, Buck looks like he’s going to blow. I’m waiting for the top of his head to pop off and steam to come pouring out along with the limited amount of brain matter he keeps in there.

I look up at Alex and whisper, “Can I get dressed now?”

Coach blows a whistle around his neck and the chatter stops. “Show’s over. You better hope no one caught wind of this shit, Waters, or you’ll have one hell of a mess to clean up. Take your friend and her clothes to the lounge; then come see me.” His disapproval is clear. “The rest of you, get changed.”

Alex picks me up by the waist and carries me over to my discarded items while the coach pulls Buck aside.

Once I’ve secured my clothing, Alex takes me through a door to another room. Couches and a giant flat screen occupy most of the space.

“Why did we have hot, angry sex against lockers if we could’ve had it here, on this couch? I mean God, Alex, you could’ve just bent me right over and . . .”

His jaw clenches and a muscle twitches in his cheek. “There’s a couch in my condo I can bend you over tomorrow night if you want. Right now, you should get dressed.”

Holding the towel in front of me, he checks over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure we’re alone.

I shimmy back into my pants. “Are you going to be in trouble?”

“I’ll be in trouble for the fight more than anything else. I should have waited until we were alone.”

“It was my fault.”

“I’m pretty sure I got you naked.”

I pull my shirt over my head as Buck appears in the doorway. Alex wraps the towel around his waist to conceal his woody.

Buck notes my dressed form before taking in Alex’s mostly undressed one. His fists clench, and he mumbles. It sounds like a yoga mantra or something.

“I should beat your ass for this, Waters.”

“You don’t need to defend my honor, Buck. It wasn’t like I was a virgin prior to Waters here.”

Alex coughs, his expression darkening. Maybe he’s miffed by my revelation. I’ll never understand why guys, particularly those who have clearly shared their wood with a whole lot of beaver, get all territorial about the one they’re currently after. Alex has enough self-confidence without me telling him he’s by far the best.

“Waters. Out here. Now.” Coach calls from the doorway, his phone clutched in his hand.

“Yes, sir.” Alex kisses my temple. “Don’t worry, baby, it’ll be fine.”

“Don’t you call her ‘baby’!” Buck points a hairy-knuckled finger at Alex.

I slap it away. “I happen to enjoy it when Alex calls me ‘baby.’ ” I turn my face into Alex’s shoulder and say softly, “Particularly in the throes of passion.”

Buck throws his hands up in exasperation. “Will you two stop?”

Alex kisses the top of my head and saunters away, a slight swagger in his step. It might be attributed to the semi he’s still sporting or the comments that paint his sexual prowess in a very positive light. He does give Buck a wide berth, just in case he decides to strike. It’s a real possibility—he’s turning puce again.

“What the hell, Violet?” he asks as soon as Alex is out of the room.

“‘What the hell,’ what?”

“You’re banging Waters? In the fucking locker room? How long has this been going on?” Buck’s hands are on his hips like an angry mother—an angry yeti mother.

I shrug. “I guess since the first time I met him.”

Buck’s eyes grow wide. He’s putting things together. I can almost see the steam coming out of his ears because his brain is in overdrive. I feel sorry for him; as much as I’ve grown to like him over the past five years, he got the short end of the intellectual fortitude stick. He’s cute fully dressed, and sometimes, when he’s not out whoring his dick, he can be awfully considerate.

“But that was almost two months ago! You’ve been keeping this from me this entire time?” He paces, running a hand through his hair. His anger dissolves somewhere into hurt.

“Because I knew this is how you’d react.”

“Well, yeah, Vi. He’s even worse than me!” Buck scratches the back of his neck as if he’s truly perplexed. “I don’t understand why you’d get involved with someone who’s only out to wet his dick with you.” It’s probably one of the deepest, most heartfelt things he’s ever said to me.

“That’s not what this is about.” What’s going on between me and Alex is more than sex. He wanted me here this weekend. It should mean something. “He’s different when we’re together.”

“You mean he doesn’t fuck you in public places all the time? Really reassuring, Vi.”

“Says the guy who got caught with his hand up a girl’s skirt in an open bathroom stall.” It’s a low blow.

“I got traded for that, Vi. Traded. Do you get what that means? I had to start all over with a new team, and now I find out you’re doing what? Dating this fool? What if he screws you over? You think I can let it go?”

I hadn’t considered how vast the ramifications could be should things go sour with Alex. Buck has a good point. He’s the new guy on the team, and my involvement with their captain could make things difficult for Buck more than anyone. I suddenly feel guilty for not being honest with him in the first place. Buck might have been upset about the situation, but it would’ve been better than him walking in on us having sex, along with all his teammates.

I put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Buck. I thought it was going to be a fling, and it turned into something more.”

He sighs. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. I know I can be a fuckwit and a huge man-slut most of the time, but I do have a heart. I haven’t forgotten about the turdburger from the minors who messed with you.”

I’m stunned. Buck laid off the asshole comments after the turdburger and I broke up. I assumed it was because I had what would probably be considered a complete emotional breakdown.

I must have been way more emo about it than I thought if Buck is bringing it up now. At the time, he attempted to be as sensitive as his male brain would allow. He set aside his bunny time to watch horror movies with me and let me beat him at video games.

“I know you’re coming from a good place. I promise I won’t make the same mistake twice. Alex is a decent guy. I see a different side of him than you do. One that isn’t completely testosterone and semen fueled.”

“I don’t know, Vi—”

“I promise if I need you to mess Alex up over something, I’ll let you know.”

His eyes light up like he’s in a nudie bar.

“Really?”

“Really.” I nod, knowing I will never in a million years sic Buck on Alex if things don’t work out. I have knees. I know how to use them.

He nods, his relief evident. “I’m gonna shower. Wanna hug it out?” He opens his arms wide.

I make a face and back away. “I think I’ll wait until after the shower for that, thanks.”

“Okay.” He lumbers awkwardly to the door, still wearing his skates.

Our bonding session over, I find a mirror and work on fixing my hair, which is very much the product of a sex tornado. If anything, I look like an expensive escort, which is not nearly as bad as a hooker. While performing emergency hair surgery with my fingers, I get caught in memories of the turdburger, Steve.

He exemplified the term asshole. Not at first, though. Initially, he was charming. I met him in my last year of college at a campus coffee shop over a latte mix-up. His major was undefined, and he was in his second year. He was a little younger than me, but he was cute. On our third date, I found out he was in the minors, looking to get drafted. Lots of red flags, right? I should’ve called it off right there. I didn’t because sometimes I’m blinded by hotness and nice teeth.

We’d been seeing each other for only a few weeks when he suggested meeting my parents. I was floored. Most guys avoid that business like the plague. So I introduced him to Sidney, who offered to watch him play. I went, too, just to be a supportive girlfriend, and discovered Steve was never going to be a good enough player to make it to a farm team, let alone the NHL. Sid took him aside and let him down easy. Still, a bruised ego is a bruised ego.

A few days later I stopped by the coffee shop to pick up a latte between classes. I wasn’t surprised to see him. What did surprise me was the brunette cozied up on his junk. She was one of those skanky types, dressed in a super-short skirt with cleavage spilling out of her low-cut blouse. Her boobs were way bigger than mine.

Now, let me be clear—I knew this relationship wasn’t going anywhere. In fact, I wasn’t really interested in seeing him anymore. Sex with him was, as mentioned previously, lackluster at best. His orgasms sounded like a hyena in heat and he was lacking below the waist. It was the ultimate in disappointing sex. At the time I was tired of being alone, and the unpleasant, high-pitched sex seemed better than nothing. It was quite the funk.

Steve and the skank were snuggling on the couch. I was as annoyed as I was relieved until he pulled the shittiest kind of move in the history of dating. It will stick with me for the rest of my life—beyond the dog-whistle moaning sex.

He looked at me as if he didn’t know who I was. He even asked if he could help me. Before I made an enormous fool out of myself, I told him he looked like some douche-whore with a small dick I used to know, and left.

That was more than eight months ago. Since then I’ve been on a dating hiatus. Hockey players of any kind have been strictly off the table. Until Alex.

The irony that I’m involved with a would-be manwhore-who-was-never-a-manwhore is not lost on me. In my defense I thought I knew what I was getting myself into. It’s not my fault all the rumors turned out to be false and Alex is a nice guy.

Several members of Alex’s team wander into the lounge. Most sit on the couches and watch TV while they wait for the rest of the guys to finish cleaning up. They’re all wearing suits, looking refined. A guy named Spencer sets a brush and a ponytail holder in front of me. His hair is long and pulled back into one of those man bun things I’ve seen a lot of lately.

“You look like you might need this.” His cheeks pinken as his eyes lift to my hair. I’d appreciate it more if I wasn’t so embarrassed.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

By the time I’ve brushed my hair into a semismooth ponytail, Alex returns to the lounge, freshly showered and dressed in a black pinstripe suit.

“Leaving the locker room should be interesting, hey, Waters?” one of the guys says, nodding in my direction.

It takes a few seconds for this information to process. I have to leave through the same door I came in. There are always camera crews waiting, even after the interviews are done. How the hell am I going to get out of here without the world finding out I’ve become Alex’s puck bunny?