Page 79 of One Pucking Time


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“Good. Send it to me so we have proof this asshole hit first. I’ll send some signed merchandise to you for your trouble.”

He huddled up with the kid and exchanged information.

“You just confirmed to everyone who you are,” I hissed when he sauntered back to me.

Hockey players had the greatest chance of flying under the radar, but Mac had messed that up.

“Yeah, so?”

“This is going to be so bad for your image. Julie’s going to—”

He looked at my cheek and flinched. “I don’t care about that. I care about you.”

“I’m fine,” I grumbled.

“What the hell came over you?”

I shrugged and tenderly touched my cheek. “I’ve wanted to tell that asshole off for a long time. What came over you?”

Mac shook out his hand, wincing. “I guess Emily’s not the only one who turns me into a protective fool.”

I smiled, certain I looked every inch a fool, too, as my eye swelled. “You’ve never looked hotter—”

“Bardot—are you telling me I should have beaten someone up sooner?” Mac grinned, and I grabbed his dress shirt that was entirely too silky for how warm and hard his chest felt beneath it.

“Maybe.”

Before he could answer, I pressed my lips to his, any sense of rationality evaporating as he wrapped his arms around me.

Panting, we pulled apart and stared at each other. I’m sure we looked like a complete mess to anyone passing by, but I didn’t care.

“Let’s go home.”

“Michael, eh?” I closed the front door behind us, shutting out the rest of the world as I focused on someone I should have given my undivided attention to a long time ago.

“My parents are the only ones who call me that—” He grimaced.

I stepped closer, raking my hands through his hair. “How about I call you Michael until you no longer hear them saying it?”

He bit his lower lip and his cheeks flushed. “We could try it—”

I grabbed his ass, pulling him against me until our cocks protested at the fabric between us. “Okay, Michael.” I sounded out each syllable, drawing out the i and ae until I was breathless. He melted against me. Putty in my hands.

“I want to hear you scream my name.” He palmed my cock. “I want this so far in me I can’t see straight as you—”

I crushed my lips against his, pinning him to the wall as I fumbled with his pants. My dress pants came off easily for him and I walked him backward into the living room, dropping him onto the couch as I lowered myself to him.

Our bodies met in a flash of heat and breathless whispers as we adjusted and found a position we could grasp each other’s cocks.

He raked his teeth down my shoulder, and I shivered. He was everything to me. I needed him more than he knew, and I was an idiot for pushing him away.

The heat of his hand. His firm grasp. The rough warmth of his touch as he stroked me had me seeing stars.

“I’m close,” I muttered, teeth clenched.

Mac stilled my hand and moved my arm. I protested, but he silenced me with a searing kiss as he shifted his hips. With a little adjusting, my cock rubbed against his and I gripped him, letting him hold me in place as he thrusted the velvet hardness of his length against me.

His green eyes met mine as we held onto each other.

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