Sincerely, The Puck Bunny (Totally Pucked #2)(78)

Slowly, I sink down on him, inch by inch, until he fills me completely. He drops his forehead against my chest, groaning when he bottoms out inside me.

“Fuck, baby, you’re going to kill me.”

I don’t answer, only swivel my hips and begin riding him. Slow and deep, I rock against him. The water of the tub sloshes against the side as I take him even deeper. Together, we groan in unison.

Briggs’s hands on my hips guide me up and down on his cock, at a torturously slow pace, all while he kisses me everywhere his lips can reach. My nipples, the soft underside of my breast, my collarbone, a fiery path up my neck as he nips at my earlobes.

All of the small touches are what set me on fire.

The languid pace of our lovemaking, combined with the way my clit grinds against his pubic bone with each swivel of my hips, has me wound as tightly as I can possibly go.

I feel the orgasm inside of me cresting. Building and building.

Blinded by pleasure, overcome by the fire flaming inside of me, my movements become frantic, desperate to feel the connection with Briggs, to feel him come inside me, marking me as his.

When he reaches below the water and rubs his thumb against my clit, while tugging at my overly sensitive nipple, I explode.

My head flies back as I cry out. I squeeze my eyes shut as fireworks erupt behind my lids, my body tightening as pleasure vibrates inside me. I feel weightless, euphoric, as my orgasm powers on. Seconds later, I hear Briggs groan, deep and throaty, before thrusting up and letting go.

His hips piston slowly as he comes, hot cum flooding inside me, coating my insides, and it only seems to amplify the crest of my pleasure.

After the room comes back into view, and my heart rate slows, I open my eyes and find Briggs watching me with a small smile.

He feels it too. This wasn’t just sex.

Briggs and I made love, and no matter what happens tomorrow, I’ll never forget this moment. Leaning forward, I place my head on his shoulder as his arms wrap around my body, holding me against him tightly. We stay like that until the water goes cold, holding onto each other. I listen to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, counting each one, and praying that I can save us before it’s too late.





Twenty Eight





In the end, it’s Maddison who cements my decision to tell my family about Olive. That along with the copious amount of guilt that is bearing down on my chest every time I get a text or phone call from my mother.

It’s not her fault that my brother ripped our family apart, and my father tore the last thread that was holding together whatever we used to be. My mother isn’t the villain in our story.

Yesterday, I called her and asked if I could come over today, that I had something extremely important to discuss with her. Single-handedly the most important thing in my life, but she doesn’t know that yet.

Putting my truck in park in the driveway, my hands clench around the wheel as my gaze swings to Maddison. She reaches out her hand for me, offering me comfort. “If you’re not ready, then we can do it another day,” she says quietly.

I shake my head.

No, it’s time. It’s been time, but my own reservations stopped me from doing the right thing.

That’s not who I am. Not anymore.

“I need to do this. Not just for them, but for myself. And for Olive.”

She nods, squeezing my hand lightly. “Okay, whatever you think. I support you.”

After getting Olive out of the car, I swing her diaper bag onto my shoulder and clutch her seat in my hand so hard my knuckles turn white.

“It’s going to be okay, Briggs,” Maddison whispers next to me, squeezing my hand again before reaching out to ring the doorbell.

Then… we wait.

This house is full of memories. I spent my childhood here, on this very porch, racing trucks down the stairs, across the rail of the wraparound porch. Just to the right of the porch, the massive oak tree that’s older than all of us combined is where I broke my arm for the first time. The pond behind the house is where I picked up a stick and skated for the first time.

I fell in love with hockey here.

It’s my childhood home, and now those memories are tainted with my brother’s betrayal.

The door swings open, and my mother stands on the other side. Her graying blonde hair is pulled back in her signature bun, and she’s wearing a simple blouse with jeans. She’s barefoot, as always, and it reminds me of the old days, when things were easier.

“Briggs, what-" She pauses then, her eyes dropping to the infant carrier in my hand. Her gaze darts back to me, then to Maddison.

“Hi Mom. This is Maddison…and Olive, my daughter.”

Mom lets out a strangled sob. Her hand flies to her mouth to cover the sound, as fresh tears well in her eyes.

“What do you mean, your daughter...Briggs?”

“Is it okay if we come in, Mom?”

She nods. “Oh God, I’m sorry, I’m just in shock. Please come in.”

I didn’t mean to drop a bomb on her at the door, but I couldn’t just bring a baby into her home without an explanation.

I realize once I step over the threshold, that it’s been years since I’ve been inside my parents’ house. Of course, I knew how long it had been, but I didn’t let it actually penetrate the wall around my heart for so long that I didn’t feel the full effect of it until now.