Irresponsible Puckboy (Puckboys #2)(47)

“And I was worried I was going to be bad at that.”

I don’t want to tell him it had nothing to do with the quality of handjob and everything to do with him being the one giving it to me, so I opt for casual snark instead. “Come on, dude. I know you’ve had plenty of practice at that. I room with you at away games.”

“Mm, true. But being the one who draws out the sound of you coming is so much sexier than hearing you do it.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mmhmm.” His hand is still around my dick, and he strokes lightly.

“Want me to return the favor?”

“Hmm, nah. We’ll call this one even since I fell asleep last night after promising you another orgasm.” Dex sits up and wipes the rest of my cum on his shirt. “But today has gotten me thinking, and—”

“Oh God, don’t tell me. You’ve decided it’s a good idea for us to adopt a child. As a joke. On a whim.”

Dex laughs. “How’d you know?”

“After this marriage, I wouldn’t put anything past you.”

“About that. Uh … our marriage. We’re stuck in it for at least a year, right?”

“Right.”

“Maybe … we could keep doing what we’ve been doing? It’s not like we’re allowed to be with anyone else, so I figure … why not give it a shot?”

Can I keep this up for a whole year? Pretending to be married to him while actually in love with him? Having sex with him and getting him off because he’s not allowed to have sex with his usual type?

“It might be a lot to ask, but I figured it’s the most logical thing.”

“You? Logical? Since when?”

“Ha ha. You’re sooo funny.”

The thing is, it is logical. We’re married, so we may as well get the perks of it.

But how will adding sex to our dynamic—no matter how much I’ve wanted this for years—affect our friendship?

And as if even contemplating doing this with Dex summons him, my phone starts ringing with Oskar’s name on the screen. Again. I hit the Ignore button for the billionth time and wonder how long it will take for him to get sick of me ignoring him and hop a plane to Vegas.

Our summer only has a couple of weeks left, so I’m hoping he’s too busy to come yell at me in person. The other guys have tried to contact me, but they’re nowhere near as pushy and protective as Oskar is.

Thanks to making it to the Stanley Cup finals last season, our vacation has been short, but I’d go back to practice tomorrow if it meant I could avoid Oskar for longer. But thinking of preseason training also makes me pause. Because if Dex and I do this, it could affect our team too.

“What about the team?” I ask Dex.

“What about them? This has nothing to do with them. This is about you and me. About us.”

Us.

Dex and Tripp.

The Mitchell brothers.

Best friends.

Husbands.

Fuck buddies?

Then again, can you really be fuck buddies with your husband?





Nineteen





DEX





When our break started, I never would have believed I’d be in a relationship with my best friend by the end of it. It’s a weird dynamic because he’s my husband, but we’ve really only just started dating, so he should be my boyfriend, but on the other hand, it’s Tripp.

If I’d pulled my head out of my ass years ago and realized how good it is to have sex with him, we probably would be married by now anyway—if we’d ever wanted that—because the only difference between then and now is that I get to make him come at night.

And goddamn, whoever sent me that message was right—it is the hottest thing I’ve ever done.

“So what’s on the agenda for today?” Tripp asks, joining me in the kitchen. He’s pulled on a pair of sleep shorts, even though we’ve both been sleeping naked every night. I pull him to me and snap the elastic waistband in protest.

“Can the first thing be banning pants?” I ask.

“Our sisters might stop visiting if we bring that rule in.”

“Good,” I grumble. “Then we’ll stop being interrupted when we want to have sex.”

The last few nights this week, our sisters have taken it upon themselves to stop in for dinner or invite us out for drinks. It’s nothing unusual to how it normally is during the off-season, but it does mean I haven’t been getting anywhere near enough orgasms.

Tripp laughs. “I’ve had so many handjobs this week my dick is going to get chafed.”

“About that …” I shift, rubbing my thumbs over his sides. “Maybe I could, ah, try using my mouth next time.”

“You want to suck me off?”

I’m quick to nod, and I can’t seem to make myself stop.

Tripp strokes my throat. “Will you swallow?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Think you’re man enough to take it all?” I know that’s Tripp’s teasing voice. I’m just not sure whether it’s because he thinks I can’t eat cum, or I’m all talk with no follow-through.

“Let’s find out.” Then I sink to my knees, pulling his shorts down with me.