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

Pucking Sweet: Chapter 65



What do you mean you’re fucking leaving?” Cole shouts, following me around his apartment as I collect my crap. “Lukas!”

We’re three days back from LA, and things are a goddamn mess. Poppy is pregnant and hiding out from us. Cole keeps trying to get me to open up about my past. I’m fucking sick of it. I can’t take another second. As if lying on his couch and crying into a tub of ice cream will fix the fucked-up-ness in my head that is sending me running for the hills.

I can’t do this. He’s right, I never fucking could. It’s all just feeling like too much for me. Too much pressure, too much commitment. I’m not the guy who stays. I’m not the boyfriend. You don’t bring me home to mom. You certainly don’t raise a fucking kid with me.

You flirt with me at the bar, fuck me in the bathroom, and let me pay for your Uber home.

“Look, this was always supposed to be temporary anyway,” I say. “Just until my house renos were done.”

He stands in the hallway, blocking me from getting back to my room. “You mean my house renos?”

I glare at him, laptop and a pair of trainers in hand. “It’s my fucking house, Cole.”

“Yeah, your house that I’ve spent the last month decorating. Why do you think I did that?”

I dare to give him an asshole smirk. “Because you like interior design.”

He just shakes his head, the disappointment flowing off him. “That house is fucking perfect for us. For the three of us!”

“There is no us,” I say, feeling dead inside.

His expression cracks just a little to show me the turmoil brewing underneath. Oh, he’s fucking mad. Maybe, if I push a little harder, I can get him to punch my goddamn lights out. At least then I’ll feel something as I sit alone in that empty house, icing my jaw.

“Come on, Coley. I’m giving you what you wanted. With me out of the way, you can have her all to yourself. You can marry her, buy her a house—hell, buy my house. I’ll give you a good price for it. You can raise your babies, get a dog, and live the perfect little life together.”

“And what if the baby is yours?”

I go still. “Then I know you’ll be the standup guy you are, and you’ll step in and do the job I can’t.”

He just stands there, arms crossed. “And what the hell will you do while we’re living our dream life in your house?”

I shrug. “Fuck bunnies and drink until my liver gives out? That’s always been my dream.”

He narrows his eyes in disgust. “If you touch another woman besides Poppy, I’ll cut off your goddamn hands. Try playing hockey then, asshole.”

“Hey, I’m a free agent. I’ll put my hands and my dick wherever the fuck I want.”

“You belong to Poppy,” he counters. “I was there in that bar bathroom when she wrapped her hand around your dick and fucking claimed you. I’ve been right next to you as you’ve come inside her, burying your face in her hair as you groan out her name. I watched you in the hospital, Lukas. You latched onto her touch like you were both made of goddamn magnets.”

I groan, turning away.

“You love her,” he shouts, following me back into the little apartment living room. “Say it!”

“There’s nothing I need here enough to stay and deal with you,” I say over my shoulder. “I’ve got my laptop. I’m fucking leaving.”

“And what about me!”

I slip my feet into my slides by the door, checking my pockets for my keys. Grabbing my hat, I put it on, reaching for the handle.

Cole comes up behind me, slamming his hand flat on the door, closing it. He boxes me in, his front pressing against my back. “What about me, Lukas?

I don’t dare turn around. I cling to my laptop and my trainers and my fist of keys, letting those jagged bits of metal dig into my palm. “What about you?”

“You don’t just belong to Poppy. Not anymore. I’m in this, Lukas. I’m all the way in.”

I let out a shallow breath, closing my eyes. “I’m not interested.”

He leans in closer, his warm chest brushing against my back, his breath like a caress on my ear. “Yeah…except you’ve tasted my cum. I watched you whimper for it like a desperate fucking whore. You were on your knees between our queen’s legs, sucking my seed from her cunt.”

“Stop,” I say, praying that he won’t, praying he’ll just grab me by the throat, pull me back to his bedroom, and chain me to the goddamn bed. That’s the only way I’m staying in this apartment. My bolting instincts are too well-honed.

“You came to me in that bathroom, remember?” he goes on. “You dropped your shorts and showed me that hard dick. Then you stroked it for me, dreaming it was my hand, fucking praying I would come out of the shower and get on my knees and take it. You want me to do it now?”

I groan, every muscle coiled tight as blood rushes to my dick.

“Turn around, Lukas,” he coaxes. “Stay here, and fight for us. Say you want me, like I want you, and I will drop to my knees and suck your hard cock into my mouth. I will gag on you, baby. I will choke on your cum, spit it into my hand, and use it as lube to blow my own load on your chest.”

“Fuck.” I lean forward, pressing my forehead against the cool metal of the door.

“Say you’re not hard. Say you’re not aching for it. You fucking piece of shit, say you’re not mine in all the ways I’m yours.”

I reach for the door handle again. “I’m not yours. I’m not anyone’s. I’m nothing.”

He gave me a choice. Now that it’s made, he’s done. Colton Morrow doesn’t beg. “Get the fuck out.”

I pull open the door and slip out, leaving everything I own inside that goddamn apartment. I can hardly think past the pain in my dick as I do the only thing I’ve ever been good at. I fucking run.


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