Pucked: Pucked Over Part 11

"Mostly." I don't mention that part of it is nerves and being outside of my comfort zone. None of the guys I've been with in the past are anything like Randy. Not as hot, not as well endowed, not as skilled, not as smooth.

"I like it." He pulls the covers over us, coc.o.o.ning us in cotton, or whatever these extra-soft sheets are made of. "Mostly."

I hear rather than see him tear the wrapper. He must be a master condom roller because he's suddenly between my legs. I don't know how he lost his boxers, but there's just hot skin against hot skin. And latex, of course. Randy runs the head of his c.o.c.k along my slit a few times.

"I'm goin' in," he whispers.

I laugh, then exhale sharply as the head probes low and he shifts forward-just the tip, though.

"Okay. I'm in."

I snort.

He pushes in a little farther. "That's all I've got."

I bite his shoulder, or some part of him. I can't see to know since we're still covered in blankets. "Seriously, Ballistic? What'd you do, put your b.a.l.l.s inside the condom, too?"

He makes a noise like he's holding back a laugh. "You're not last-naming me while I'm f.u.c.king you, are you? That's a no-go, right there." He pushes up on his arms.

"I think you're forgetting I've had my hand on that c.o.c.k. I know there's more to it than a b.u.t.ton in a bush." I wrap my arms around his neck and hook my ankles at his waist. Essentially he's doing a pushup with me attached to his body now. I tilt my hips and, despite being suspended in air, I manage to get him to go a little deeper.

"I don't have a bush."

I'm almost positive he's gritting his teeth. "It's a figure of speech."

"Is it, now?"

I have eighteen years of figure skating under my belt. I'm strong, fit, and limber. I can do things with my body most people can't-including remaining suspended in air for a significant period of time. I'm also heavier than I look. I might be what girls call "skinny," but I'm one-hundred-percent muscle. Okay, not quite, but I have seriously low body fat. And I have zero cellulite. Girls hate my a.s.s. Literally, it's perfect. I got a nice a.s.s instead of nice b.o.o.bs; it's a fair trade, I guess.

"Okay, maybe it's more of a euphemism, but I'm not sure why that matters. Why aren't you f.u.c.king me like you've been talking about doing for the past G.o.dd.a.m.n month?"

Randy lowers himself until my back hits the mattress again and his chest is pressed against mine. Then he shifts his hips forward. "You mean like this?"

And there it is. The reason for the Magnums. Mother of all things holy, is he ever equipped. I think I might moan. I'm not sure.

"Or do you mean more like this?" He starts to move-filling and retreating, over and over, harder and harder.

"Oh my G.o.d." It's definitely more groan than words-not like it matters. I'm sure the way I'm clinging to him is a decent indicator of exactly what I mean.

Randy throws the covers off, which is a relief because I'm getting sweaty under these blankets, and I'm wearing actual makeup. I don't want it to start melting. At least the sheets are dark, so it's not going to stain if any of it rubs off on them. He leans to the left, and the angle is beyond stellar.

All of a sudden I'm blinded by light. Not the light of o.r.g.a.s.m, but the light of the bedside lamp. Randy cradles my head, his palm resting at the nape of my neck.

"Now you want the lights on?"

"I want to see your face when I f.u.c.k you."

I don't dare close my eyes. Blinking almost isn't an option. Any snarky comment dies when he stops thrusting and starts grinding. Holy f.u.c.k. I'm not prepared for this. At all. I've never seen anyone look so... primal? Like he wants to... ravage? Consume?

The hand that isn't holding my head skims my hip and hooks behind my knee, drawing it up until it's at his ribs, making him go even deeper. I think I may actually implode when this o.r.g.a.s.m hits. I can feel it, traveling through my spine, spreading like electric fingers across my skin. I figure I might as well go one step further and rest my ankle on his shoulder.

And there it is. My cells are grenades. My nerve endings blast like tiny land mines, centered in my c.l.i.t. The tremor in my body is uncontrollable. It's a whole-system failure. The moan that comes out of me is so loud I scare myself. I'm trying to keep my eyes open, but nothing registers aside from the o.r.g.a.s.m.

And Randy keeps going, and going, and going, hips pumping and muscles straining as he holds himself over me. At least I can see again, for now. His jaw is tight, eyes on fire, breath washing over my face in hard pants. He's so close, still watching me. Jesus. This man sure knows how to f.u.c.k.

I think I'm fully recovered from the last o.r.g.a.s.m, and another one punches me in the c.l.i.t. His name comes out all garbled. I latch onto his hair, then worry with my lack of control that I'll rip it out, so I hold onto his shoulders instead. I can't rip those off.

His steady thrust turns erratic and harsh, his coordination faltering. His eyes roll up and flutter shut briefly as this sound comes out of him-it's exactly the noise I'll a.s.sociate with man-o.r.g.a.s.ms for the rest of my life.

When he opens his eyes again, they're heavy and l.u.s.t-soaked. He sinks into me, his weight pushing me into the pillows and mattress like he's trying to get deeper inside, which isn't possible because I'm as full up as I can get. Lily's v.a.g.i.n.a Emporium is at maximum c.o.c.k capacity.

Randy's mouth crashes down on mine, his tongue pushing past my lips. I'm not sure if he's having a seriously long o.r.g.a.s.m, or he's drawing it out, or he doesn't want to stop, but he's still going. He's changed from thrusting back to a slow hip roll. Eventually he stops moving and breaks the kiss.

He pushes up, the muscles in his arms twitching. "How's it goin'?" It comes out all gravelly. Even his post-s.e.x voice is hot.

I clear my throat. "Uh, pretty good."

His eyebrows rise. "Pretty good?"

I blow out a breath. It makes his hair flutter around his face. It's almost the same length as mine when it's not up in his little man-bun thingy. I shrug. Well, I try to, but it's not all that easy with the way I'm lying down, my head half sunk between two pillows. "Yeah, pretty good sounds about right. I'd give that a seven out of ten."

"Seven?" It sounds like a vulgar expletive.

Oh, G.o.d. He looks p.i.s.sed. This is way too fun. I should probably stop while I'm ahead, but I can't. "Seven-point-two?"

"Don't kid yourself, Lily. That was a ten-point-oh. No questions."

"You think you're that good a lay, do you?"

"I'm not talking about my performance; I'm talking about yours." He puts his mouth to my ear. "Oooh, Raaandy."

It's actually a decent impression of me, though highly embarra.s.sing.

"But seriously, you had fun?" His fingertips are soft on my cheek.

"Yeah, I had fun."

He smiles, and it's beautiful. "Good. That's what I want. As long as you're having a good time with me. We're just going to have some easy fun, okay? If that changes or, like, the s.e.x drops below nine-point-oh or things start getting too intense or whatever, you let me know."

I think it's already intense, but I get what he's saying without him having to spell it out. We're just enjoying each other, and this-what we're doing right now-is as far as it's going to go. Which I already knew.

A knock on the door prevents me from responding.

Randy opens his mouth to speak, so I do the most reasonable thing I can think of: I grab his hair and bring his face to mine. He still tries to talk, but it's a lot more challenging with my tongue in his mouth.

He doesn't fight me on the kissing. Instead he starts back up with the humping. I'm not nearly as full as I was before-I'm a.s.suming that's because he's getting soft-but it still feels good. I forget there's a reason for the spontaneous making out until another more-vigorous knock startles me.

"Lily? Are you in there?"

Randy pulls away and grins. I put a hand over his mouth to keep him from talking.

After a few seconds of silence Sunny says, "They're about to serve dinner."

Then she's talking to someone in the hall. "I have no idea. I saw her the last time you saw her. I'm calling her phone."

"At least she waited until it was over," Randy whispers from behind my hand.

"Shh!"

He sticks his tongue between my fingers. I s.n.a.t.c.h my hand away and press my face into his shoulder, biting him to keep from laughing.

All of a sudden my phone starts ringing. I push on Randy's chest, and he rolls off me. I scramble across the room to get it, even though it's too late.

"I know you're in there, Lily! I can hear your phone!" Sunny rattles the k.n.o.b.

I cut the call, which is pointless. I look over at Randy, and I'm sure my eyes are wide. I don't know what I'm so worried about. It's not like Sunny doesn't know I was planning to do the dirty with Randy. She provided her opinion, which is that I should treat it as a fling, because logically that's what it is-and Randy's confirmed this. I'm good with that. It's not my usual thing, but I'm living a little.

"Give us a minute!" Randy calls out in his still-raspy s.e.x voice.

"b.a.l.l.s?" Miller asks.

"Yeah."

"Seriously? You two couldn't wait until later to bone each other?"

"We were just talking," Randy calls back.

"Bulls.h.i.t!" Miller rattles the door this time.

"Miller! You're gonna break the handle off!"

"I'm f.u.c.king around, sweets."

Randy pulls his boxers up and tucks himself away. I don't get so much as a glimpse of his unit before it disappears. He picks up my dress from the floor, his gaze roaming over my totally naked body. He pa.s.ses it to me and tweaks one of my nipples while my hands are occupied. I suck in a breath, and he smirks. Then he reaches for the doork.n.o.b.

"What're you doing? I'm naked!" I whisper-shout, gripping his arm. The one covered in tattoos. The one with the fingers that were inside me not all that long ago.

"I'm not letting them in. I'm just gonna talk to Miller not through a door."

We're both sweaty. My hair feels damp. It smells like s.e.x and latex in here. Randy's hair is a mess. I'm sure my v.a.g.i.n.a is all over his beard. He's got scratch and bite marks on his shoulders. Apparently I'm aggressive during s.e.x.

"Well, wait until I have some clothes on, please!" The dress is inside out, and the lamplight doesn't make it any easier to figure out which way around it's supposed to be. Randy turns on the overhead light to help.

"The price tag is still on that," he points out.

"I know. I'm returning it when I get home."

"What? Why? You're smokin' hot in that dress."

"It's not like I'll have anywhere to wear it again."

He reaches over and yanks the tag free. "You can wear it tomorrow night, when I take you out for dinner."

He crumples the tag in his fist and flips the lock, opening the door.

I shove my hands through the straps and pull the top up so my b.o.o.bs aren't on display. Sunny may have seen them before, but I don't need Miller checking me out.

"Dude!" Miller says. "You couldn't even put on clothes? Sunny, don't look."

"It's not like I haven't seen him in swim shorts before. Oh, wow. You might wanna do-something with..." She makes a sound and then stops talking.

"Where's Lily?" Miller doesn't sound happy.

"I'm right here." I step out from behind Randy-he's broad and tall enough to hide behind. "Can you zip me up?"

"Sure thing." He tugs the zipper, skimming my spine along the way. I shiver at the gentle press of his lips between my shoulders.

Miller makes an unimpressed noise.

"Oh, no." Sunny claps a hand over her mouth.

"What?"

"Your hair!"

"What about it?" I touch the front. It's flipping out instead of under right now, but that's not a big deal. I can always attribute it to the humidity.

"No, the back! Sunny shoves her way past Miller and Randy and takes my hand, leading me to the bathroom. She turns on the light, slams the door shut, and locks it. Taking me by the shoulders, she turns me to face the mirror.

"Oh, s.h.i.t!" The back of my hair is like a peac.o.c.k. It gives new meaning to bedhead. There was a lot of vigorous thrusting. The state of my hair reflects that. My skin is flushed, and the rest of my hair has started to curl out at the ends, but otherwise, I don't look too bad-I don't think, anyway.

"Everything okay in there, ladies?" Miller asks.

Sunny opens the door and jabs a finger in Randy's direction. "I'm fixing Lily's s.e.x hair, no thanks to you!"

He's already got his pants back on and is shrugging into his shirt. It's a whole lot wrinkly now. Sunny closes the door and locks it again, then starts finger-combing out the knots.

"Ow!"

"Stop whining and help me! Dinner's already started, and people are wondering where the two of you are."

"I bet no one even noticed."

"Alex did." She turns on the tap and lowers her voice. "You've been gone more than an hour!"

"We have not."

"Oh, yes. You have. It's almost eight."