Not about that.
Or the bruises undoubtedly developing on my knees.
Or the sweat likely soaking through our clothes.
Or the very real possibility of getting caught by the very people we’re here to spend this pre-thanksgiving with.
The only thing that matters, the only thing I can even fathom mattering, is the backbreaking bliss, mercilessly tearing through me as I come completely undone for the first time in far too long because having a partner that travels this much for work sucks.
“Such a good girl comin’ for me, Slayer,” Jukes groans seconds prior to his shaft swelling and balls drifting upward for the inevitable. “Lettin’ me come.” Sweltering surges shoot into my most sensitive depths sparking new rounds of screaming. “Takin’ my cum.”
Splash after splash summons my hips to keep rocking and riding and rolling, needing every drop out of him to appease my greedy, incessant pussy that’s desperate to be filled and stay filled and get filled again.
All of a sudden, a tiny tap to the window, next to my hand appears, immediately redirecting my attention to one of my best friend’s. Aly cheekily offers her lit cigarette despite the glass between us. “Need a puff after that?” Shock sending my jaw to my lap precedes her snickering. “I mean I do.”
Giggles – of both embarrassment and disbelief – tumble me forward to bury my reddening face in Juke’s shaking chest.
“Hey!” she announces from outside the truck. “I’m Aly!”
He removes the hand that’s on my ass to wave. “Thayne.”
“Nonononono,” gets quietly grumbled in unhappiness. “This wassonot how you were supposed to meet for the first time!”
“Eh, could’ve been worse,” Jukes lovingly insists, using that same hand to gingerly stroke my back. “At least my dick’s not out.”
“That’s because it’sinme!”
“Which meansshecan’t see.” More chortles lead to me popping my head up in irritation. “Take the win, Slayer.” Lovingly cupping my face instantly soothes the sting of shame overwhelming my system. “Take this win, the last win, and let’s go inside and get one more in the name of ABBA.”
The idea of not smiling never crosses my mind. “You know that song is not a happy song.”
“No, but it’s ABBA.” Seeing the corner of his lips curl further upward has mine following suit. “And you know anytime I can throw in one of their songs…I’m gonna.”
Louder and lighter bits of laugher precede me nodding.
And this is why Ialwaysfeel like a winner.
Having someone as wonderful as Thayne on your team – on or off the ice – will always lead you to a victory.
Even if that victory is something as small as the chance to bring up your favorite band of all time.
Chapter 19
Thayne
My reflexes in the rink are impeccable, but I gotta confess.
I never saw them serving much purpose at a trivia game.
One quick flick of the wrist has Kira, Gillybean’s best friend that didn’t catch us having sex in my truck, pointing her hazelnut shaded finger in our direction prompting me to answer, “A luthier is someone who builds or repairs or sometimes restores stringed instruments includin’ but not limited to those in the violin family.”
“Wow,” croaks the woman on the loveseat to my right, “that’s ridiculously impressive.”
Doing my best not to blush, I politely state, “Thank you.”
“Have you missed asinglequestion?” Kira’s dark cocoa skinned husband, Béchir, ponders post putting another point under our name.
The headshake I deliver is shyer than intended.
