Charming as Puck(82)

“Were you having phone sex?” she whispers.

“No,” I whisper-shriek back.

“I hear that’s really fun. I mean, not as fun as doing it together in person or anything, but better than nothing.”

“Muffy, I’m at work.”

She blinks twice and looks around the break room, at the posters for flea and tick treatments and heartworm pills and at the puppy pictures. “Oh. Right.” Then she grins. “So, who are you taking to the game Saturday night again?”

“You,” I grumble.

“Aww, you really are my favorite cousin.” She frowns. “Is that doll anatomically correct?”

“You are not looking at my doll’s penis!”

Mom pokes her head into the break room. “Did you just—never mind. Just tell me when we need to start planning the wedding. That’s all I want to know. Except—is he done sending presents now? That has to be the longest apology I’ve ever seen in my life. God help you both if he fucks up during pregnancy or labor and delivery.”

“Your mom just said fuck,” Muffy whispers reverently.

“She’s spent the last twenty years listening to most of the rest of the family argue over whether string theory or molecular bondage is more interesting. She says fuck a lot more than you might think.”

“Definitely molecular bondage,” Muffy declares.

Mom’s left eye twitches.

“You want to go to the game Saturday night?” I ask her. “I have really good seats. And we can set Muffy up on a date.”

Mom tilts her head like she’s considering it.

“And I can get the popcorn and a Thrusters jersey for you,” I say. “I know you’ve been crushing on Jaeger.”

Her cheeks go pink.

So do Muffy’s.

“He’d be first line material on any other team,” Muffy declares “Fucking right,” my mom agrees.

“Saturday it is. And just wait until you meet the guy I’m gonna set Muffy up with.”

Mom grins.

Muffy groans.

And I wonder if Felicity will let me borrow Loki for the night.

“Oh my god,” I suddenly gasp. “I’m starting to think like Nick.”

Mom and Muffy both stare at me for a minute.

Then Muffy shrugs, and Mom says, “At least he’s not an astrophysicist,” and we all crack up.

Because she has a point.

But I should still probably find Muffy a better date than a monkey.

Probably.





Forty-Two





Nick



Since the great wanker yanker incident—yes, that’s exactly what Zeus Berger is calling it—our truce is off. We both agreed to cool it after Halloween, but he’s going down.

I’m on edge the rest of the road trip.

I still kill it on the ice, and we win both our away games, including a second shutout for me, but by the time we get home well past midnight Friday night, I’m ready for some downtime.

I swing by my folks’ place to check on Sugarbear—fucking plan is taking longer than it should—then head over to Kami’s. I should go to bed—we have morning skate and a home game tomorrow—but I’m desperate to see her.

There’s a light on in the living room when I pull up. I knock softly, because if she’s sleeping, I don’t want to disturb her, but the door swings open almost immediately. “Sshh,” she whispers as she opens the screen door for me too. “The dogs are asleep.”

I’m good with that. I don’t need to talk.

I just need to kiss her.

She’s reaching for me the same time I’m reaching for her, and soon we’re shoving the front door shut with our bodies.

She squirms out of her Thrusters jersey while I shake off my coat and tackle the buttons on my shirt, kissing her the whole time.

My pants hit the floor by the time I finally get all the fucking buttons on my shirt undone, because Kami’s quick, and she’s managed to de-pants both of us in the time it’s taking me to get out of this fucking shirt.

But once my skin is free, her hands are roaming my chest, her lips are locked on mine, her bare leg is rubbing my thigh, and Christ, she’s just everything.

“Thought—you—asleep—” I gasp between kisses.

“Missed you,” she replies, pulling me closer and going up on her tiptoes to grind her hips against mine.

Fuck, she feels so good.

I lift her against the door, her legs go around my hips, and she centers herself over my cock. I thrust into her hot, slick channel in one smooth motion, and we both shudder in relief.

And now that I’m inside her, everything slows. Her milk chocolate eyes lock with mine, our breaths sync, and I kiss her again, slow and leisurely, while I take my time thrusting in and out slowly.

“Remember—first time—wall,” she whispers against my lips.

“Made it to the finals.” That night, back in the spring—we’d been out at the bar celebrating. I made eye contact with Kami, and ten minutes later, she slipped out of the bar. I followed her after five more and caught up with her in the lobby of my building. We made out all the way up the elevator and barely made it inside my condo before our clothes went flying. “I should’ve known that night,” I tell her while I stroke into her again.