Pucks & Penalties (Pucked) - Helena Hunting Page 0,1
isn’t a picture of me with my butt hanging out? Did you get this from Buck? What’s he still doing with them anyway, and why in the world would he share them with you?” I try to turn around, but Alex keeps me pinned against the table with the weight of his hips and the monster cock.
“He didn’t share them with me.”
I glare at his hands, which are anxiously kneading my breasts. “You have three seconds to start explaining before I kick your ass. And don’t bother telling me I can’t kick your ass. I know that. But I’ll lay a smackdown on the monster cock. I have a feeling he’s the mastermind behind all of this…this…butt porn.” I push my ass out against his monster cock. My boyfriend is such a pervert. Mostly I love it.
“Back up,” I order.
Alex complies, and I spin around, crossing my arms over the girls. This is so I look angry, which I am, but also to cover my awesome rack. I don’t want any distractions while he explains why he has ass porn photos of me from well before we met each other.
“Remember when we first had sex?” he asks.
I jab a finger into his solid chest. “Don’t try to distract me with sex!”
“I’m not! I’m not! But you do remember, right? The first time and the second?” His left dimple makes a brief appearance before he smartly schools his expression.
“Of course I remember.” That night, while not my best in terms of decision making, was amazing. It’s why we’re standing here. And we love each other.
“So you also remember how you took off without waking me up first and didn’t call me back after I left you messages?”
Dear God, we aren’t going here again, are we? For a famous guy, Alex has a soft ego.
“I told you why I didn’t call you back.”
He takes my jabbing finger in his hand. “Now don’t get mad at me.” The precursor to his coming explanation can’t be good. “I was getting desperate to talk to you. I mean, you’d left your glasses behind. I thought that meant you wanted to see me again, but then you didn’t call back. I thought maybe I’d done something wrong. I wanted to see you. I was—you were on my mind constantly.”
We’ve never talked about what happened after the first beaver-wood intro. “Really?”
“Yeah. You’re this incredibly funny, sexy woman who liked that I was smart and didn’t give a rat’s ass about hockey. How could I not be taken with you? So when you didn’t call me back, I resorted to—” He bites his lip and looks down. “—creeping Buck’s Facebook profile.”
“You hacked into it?”
“No. I just creeped it. There’s where I found the pictures.”
“Wait. What? Those pictures are still on his profile? I told him to take them down two years ago.”
“I guess he didn’t listen. He really should have. Those pictures are something else. I didn’t know when you’d be at another game, or if you even wanted to see me again. You told me you loved my cock, so how could I not want to see you again after that?” Alex gets a wistful, faraway look before he continues. “When I saw the picture with your little cheek hanging out, I thought to myself, Self, you’ve already seen that fine ass up close and personal. You’ve held onto it while she rides your cock. You know how soft that skin feels. Is it that wrong for you to keep one picture of Violet’s ass cheek playing peekaboo?” He stops rambling to see how I’m taking his truth vomit.
“For what purpose would you need a picture like that?”
“So I have something to look at while I whack off.” He says this like it should be obvious, which I suppose maybe it should.
“You whack off to the pictures in this folder?” I thumb over my shoulder at the computer. I should be angry, maybe even concerned about how sketchy Alex was at the beginning of our relationship. My beaver, however, is already very interested in the visual of Alex stroking his monster cock.
Alex, like the massive, horny pervert he is, must sense my sudden arousal, because he moves in a little closer. “Do you want to see my favorites?”
“I guess?” It’s a question. I’m not one-hundred percent on this.
Alex adjusts himself through his towel. “I’m sorry I saved them, but only the ones from Buck. The rest I’m not sorry about at all.” He kisses me, all soft-like.