SWNOVELS Pucking Sweet: Chapter 33
I stay at the bar, clutching my second mojito. A wooden column at the end of the bar hides me from the microphone as Lukas’s name is called. The Rays section cheers as he jumps up on stage, waving to the crowd. He grabs the mic, slipping it from the stand. “This song is dedicated to someone very special in the crowd tonight.”
I sit forward on my stool. Oh, he better freaking not—
“Henrik Karlsson, where are you, bud?” He shields his eyes from the lights as “I’ll Never Break Your Heart” starts to play.
The Rays all laugh and clap as two guys point out the handsome Swede, quietly nursing a beer.
“Hen, I’m sorry you took an elbow to the face at practice and lost a tooth,” Lukas says to more laughter. “I may break your teeth on occasion, but you know I’ll never break your heart.”
The crowd cheers as Henrik gets to his feet and salutes Lukas with his beer. Then Lukas starts to sing. I swallow a gulp of my mojito, peering around the wooden pillar.
“Oh, goddamn it.” Slapping my drink down, I shove it away.
The man has the voice of a freaking angel.
“Alright, that was awesome,” the emcee says as Lukas finishes his song. “Let’s hear it for Lukas Novikov!”
Lukas waves to the cheering crowd as he replaces the mic on the stand. While he was singing, I wove my way around the back of the open-air bar, trying to stay hidden in the sea of people. The last thing I’m going to do is give him an excuse to tease me more by singing while looking longingly into my eyes. I make it to the edge of the stage just as the emcee says, “Next up, we have Poppy St. James, ready to wow us with a little Dolly Parton.”
Lukas makes his way over to me. A sheen of sweat glistens on his brow. The yellow of the stage lights make his eyes shine almost golden. “I warmed them up for you,” he says with a grin.
“Thanks.”
As he passes, he leans in. “I sang that for you.”
My shoulders stiffen. He tosses me a wink as he walks away.
God damn that man!
“Let’s go, Poppy,” one of the wives cheers from the crowd.
“Get it, girl!”
Taking a deep breath, I put on my best smile and wave, entering the bright circle of the stage lights. They switch to purple and pink, and the crowd cheers again as I step up to the mic. I reach for the dial, twisting it lower as the song starts. “Sorry, y’all. Some of us are a little vertically challenged.”
The crowd laughs.
Looking out, I note all the faces of people I know. Friends, colleagues. I smile, relaxing a little. Despite all the crazy, this is my life now. This is where I want to belong. Not in a stuffy tearoom on a New York City boulevard or in the halls of Congress chasing down some harried senator. I want to belong here, on a karaoke stage in a rowdy beach bar in Jacksonville, Florida, surrounded by all my friends.
I focus my attention on Shelby O’Sullivan’s bright, encouraging smile. Leaning in, I sing the first verse of “Jolene.”
“Hey, Poppy, that was amazing!” Rachel brushes her hand down my arm as I pass her table.
“Thanks, girl,” I return with a smile.
The great thing about “Jolene” is that it’s a short song that most people know. It takes the pressure off me having to be any good if I can just hype up the crowd to sing it with me. And this crowd ate it all the way up. My good mood is locked firmly back in place as I exchange more smiles, weaving my way inside the main dining room. Once inside, I make a beeline for the restroom.
I step into the far one, noting the dingy, dark walls covered in old posters and flyers for concerts and beach events. Beyond the walls, the house music pumps, something loud and rock’n’roll. I push the door shut, shrieking as it gets blocked by a body. “Lukas—”
He slips in, shutting the door and turning the lock. “Seriously? You sang ‘Jolene’?”
“God, get out. This bathroom is occupied.” I move over to the cracked mirror in the corner. Desperate for something to do with my hands, I start washing them.
“Please tell me you’re not still hung up on that douchey architect who is currently fucking your sister.”
I glare through the mirror at his reflection, taking in his crossed arms, those tattooed biceps bulging in his tight gray T-shirt. “I’m not.”
He scoffs. “Yeah, right.”
“What?” I slam my palm against the soap dispenser, squirting soap into my hand. “I’m not. I don’t want Anderson. I don’t care about Anderson. I don’t even think about Anderson. Look, this is me, actively not thinking about him.”
He raises a brow. “Oh, yeah?”
“Well, I wasn’t thinking about him until you stormed in here, shoving him in my face. The door is behind you, by the way.”
He leans against it. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Suit yourself.” I rinse off the soap under the hot water, squeezing my hands together instead of squeezing his stupid neck.
“If you’re so over it, why were you singing ‘Jolene?’”
“Seriously?” Shutting off the water, I tug paper towels out of the dispenser by his shoulder. “Maybe because Dolly Parton is a literal icon who just happens to be one of my favorite singers? Didn’t sleuth that on my social media, did you? I’ve been singing ‘Jolene’ at karaoke since I was twelve years old!”
“Likely story.”
“Ohmygod, this is so pathetic. I know why you’re really in here.”
His gaze heats as he glares down at me. “And why is that?”
I cross my arms, glaring right back. “You know about me and Colton—”
“Of course I fucking know,” he shouts, crowding my space until I’m backing up against the wall. “The asshole only came and rubbed it in my face the moment he pulled out of you.”
My eyes widen. “He what?”
“Yeah, he came and found me right after the elevator. I could still smell you on his fucking skin.”
I search his face, looking for the lie. “Why would Colton do that?”
“Because he’s a territorial fucking asshole! He was all ‘finders keepers,’ and told me I can’t play the game. But now I’m all twisted up because I think I want to play the game. I mean—it’s not a game anymore, and I get that—but I don’t know how to not play this like a game, you know? Not when the rules are finders keepers and—”
“What’s finders keepers?”
“It’s you,” he replies. Then he groans, dragging a hand through his short, almond-brown hair. “Or maybe now it’s me. I’m not quite sure about that part. It feels like somewhere it all got twisted around.”
“Lukas, you’re not making any sense. Colton came to you after the elevator?”
“Of course he did,” he snaps.
“And you know we…”
He just rolls his eyes. “Seriously? You think I don’t know the scent of your shampoo?”
I stiffen.
“You think I don’t know the sweet smell of your pussy?”
I gasp, shoving against his chest. “Now you’re just being rude.”
“It was wafting off of him,” he says, letting me push him back a step. “Two men in one week? Impressive. How many more contracts will be stacked next to your bed by Sunday night? I hear Henrik’s on the market.”
Hot rage boils through me. “Slut shaming? Really? That’s a new low, even for you.”
“Hey, there’s no shame in sex. If anything, I’m proud. Your dry spell is officially over, eh? I bet if I checked right now, you’d be wet as fucking rain.”
My rage turns cold as ice. “Touch me, and I’ll scream.”
He grins. “If I touch you again, the only thing you’ll be screaming is my name.”
“God, just get out, Lukas. Your jealousy bores me—”
He crowds me against the wall again, his hands slamming to either side of me, boxing me in. His caramel eyes are dark and heated. “Lie to me again,” he growls. “Do it, Poppy. Make my fucking week. You love my jealousy. It turns you the fuck on, don’t even try denying it.”
My heart’s racing so fast, but I tip my head back. “Once again, you’re delusional.”
“You think I don’t see the way you look at me? You think I can’t feel it? I feel your eyes on me. Watching me—”
“Stop.”
“Undressing me. On the ice, off the ice.”
“Why would I bother? You were utterly forgettable, remember?”
He leans away. His gaze trails down my body. “We both know you remember every single thing I did to you. You remember my tongue flicking your tits.”
“No, I don’t—”
“You remember how I held you up against the side of the goddamn ice machine and fucked you senseless,” he goes on. “And you remember the hotel room.”
“Total blank,” I whisper.
“You got that second condom, not me.”
“Stop,” I beg him.
“You wrapped your hand around my aching dick and slipped me inside your needy cunt.”
I shake my head, eyes closed, trying to banish the memories from my mind.
“Then you rode my dick until you came the fuck apart.”
“I said, stop.”
“You stop.” He lowers his face until I can feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek. “Stop thinking about it. Stop squeezing the walls of that sweet pussy right now, dreaming about how I filled you.”
I open my eyes, looking up into his face. He’s teasing me, and it’s cruel. This is all still just one big game to him. What did he call it? Finders keepers? And apparently Colton is playing too. Well, I am not a toy for them pick up and fight over like children. “Just tell me what you want, Lukas. Why did you really follow me in here?”
“I want you to ask for it.”
“Ask for what?”
“Ask for more! Ask me to fill you again, and I’ll take you right here against this fucking wall.” He slaps the wall of faded posters next to my head, making me jump. “I’ll pound your cunt, and grab your hair, and bury myself inside this scent.” He fists a handful of my loose hair. Breathing it in, he groans again. “God, this fucking scent.”
I’m trembling. My locked knees are the only thing keeping me standing. “It sounds like you’re the one aching to ask for more. Is that what you want, Lukas? You want another night in heaven with me?”
His body goes stiff as he lets go of my hair. “Don’t tease me.”
I huff a laugh. “That’s rich, coming from you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Anything to score a point or two over Colton.”
He blinks down at me. “What?”
“Well, you’re both professional athletes, so I assume there must be a point system. One point for a kiss, three points if you get inside my pants? Or is it location based? He took me in an elevator, now you get points for a bathroom?”
He groans. “No, that’s not what I—”
“You just said I’m nothing but a game to you! So come on, explain the rules. I wanna play too. How many points do you get for fingering me?”
He leans away. “Poppy, there’s no game.”
“Come on, this has to be worth a couple points, right?” I slip my hand inside the top of my tight jeans, wiggling my fingers against my clit.
Lukas’s gaze locks on my hand. “Poppy, what the hell are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I dip two fingers inside my pussy, unashamed to find that I’m wet. This man riles me up like nothing else. Who knew irritation could have such an effect on the libido? I hum, working myself harder. “How many points do I get for this?”
Lukas shakes his head. “Poppy, there are no points.”
Ever so slowly, I pull my hand free, and lift it to my lips. “What about this?”
His eyes go wide as he watches me suck my glistening fingers into my mouth. Letting out a soft little moan, I taste my own sweetness, sliding my fingers in and out like I’m sucking a dick.
“Fuck me,” he says on a breath.
I pop my fingers from my mouth, my eyes narrowing. “Fuck you? I think not.”
“What? No, it was just an expression—”
“God, I’m so mad, I could scream!” I shove at his shoulders again. “I am not a toy, Lukas. I’m not something you and Colton can pick up and fight over and set aside when you’re done playing your little games.”
“Yeah, I know—”
“And contrary to what you might think, I don’t use people,” I say, my voice cracking as I fight to hold back my tears. “Sex is never a game to me.”
He groans, dragging a hand through his hair. “Okay, so I can sense that you’re still mad about what I said at the hotel—”
“You called me utterly forgettable! You said it was a mistake never to be repeated. Do you remember that? Because I sure do.”
“Poppy—”
“You said I used you. Do you have any idea how much that hurt me, Lukas? Never mind that Anderson had already thrown that exact same insult grenade at me earlier the same freaking day!”
His eyes widen with horror. “Oh shit. He did?”
“You said I’m nothing but a spoiled, rotten brat, and then you kicked me out of your hotel room. I never got my panties back, by the way,” I add, hands on my hips.
“Poppy, come on,” he pleads. “You know I was obviously lying.”
“Yeah, and now you’re obviously leaving.” I point to the door. “Or I really will scream.”
He opens his mouth just as there’s a sharp knock at the door. He turns, shoulders tensing, like he’s going to murder the first person who tries to come through.
My anger is simmering down, replaced with shame and frustration. Now, it’s all I can do to keep myself from crying, and I refuse to do that in front of him. He has to go. “Time’s up, Lukas.”
He turns back to me, his expression anxious. “This isn’t a game for me, Pop. I swear to god.”
“Everything is a game to you.”
“Just admit that you want me and we can move forward.”
I point to the locked door again. “I want you to leave.”
Someone hammers on the door for a second time. “Come on, man. Get outta there!”
“In a minute!” Lukas bellows, pounding the inside of the door with his own fist.
“Lukas,” I say on a broken whisper.
He turns back to me.
Tears sting my eyes as I let him see my pain. “Don’t make me beg.”
Without another word, he leaves, taking all my air with him. I follow him to the door, shoving on it as the next person tries to come in. I twist the lock as they knock again, cursing and pounding on it with their fist.
Pulse racing, heart breaking, I back myself away until I bump into the far wall. Hands braced against the old, faded posters, I slide down, sinking to the dirty bathroom floor.