Pucking Wild (Jacksonville Rays, #2)

by Emily Rath

“You’re a she-devil,” I say against her lips. “My goddess.” I give her a kiss. “My queen. You fucking own me.” I kiss her again. “Do anything, take anything. It’s yours.”

“Come on, sweet puppy. We really gotta work on your off-ice stamina. Give me a few weeks to toughen you up, and I’ll have you coming like that all night long.”

Hell, if she’ll only give us a real chance, a chance to be more than just friends, I’ll be her sweet puppy for the rest of my fucking life.

“Dude, I told you, that’s not a dog,” says Morrow. “It looks like that thing that sits on Jabba the Hutt in Return of the Jedi.”

I guess, over time, it’s like all these little pieces of yourself get chipped away. Like a piece of glass, tumbling along the bottom of the sea floor, you change. You get harder, you close yourself off. What once shined with brilliance becomes dull. And then it’s ten years later and you suddenly realize you don’t laugh anymore. You stopped telling jokes because he never liked that you were funnier than him. And you wanted him to feel good, feel like the man. Funniest one in the room. But the joke’s on you both, because he’s not funny, so neither of you laugh.

you don’t need to deflect all the time, you know. You can let people know what’s troubling you. It doesn’t make you weak to admit it. And it doesn’t open a door to them weaponizing that knowledge against you. Some people are good, Tess. Some people genuinely want to help. You don’t have to keep running.”

“I work mainly with kids in the foster system. A lot of those kids are runners too. I see the signs in you.” “Well…great.” I hoist the case of soda under my arm. “Glad to know I’m so transparent. You know, the great cosmic joke is that I fucking hate running.”

“Josh is my second husband. He came along shortly after Addie and I got out of our last situation. He’s our hero,” she says with tears in her eyes. “Our guardian angel. He’s the one I was meant to find, you know? He’s the father my children were meant to have.”

“Be gentle with Langley,” she says at last. “He’s my not-so-secret favorite, and he’s crazy about you. He’s one of the good ones, Tess. Maybe even the best one. Just…don’t hurt him, okay?”

Langley is crazy about me? Well, that’s pretty convenient, because I think I’m crazy about him too.

She sighs. “Honestly, I should have just made a sign and worn it around my neck. I’m Elizabeth Bennett,” she adds, gesturing at herself with a flourish. The three of us share a glance. “Elizabeth Bennett?” she huffs, one hand on her hip. “Only one of the greatest romantic heroines of all time? From Pride & Prejudice?” “That’s…a movie?” Morrow asks with a raised brow. “This is why you boys only attract the likes of puck bunnies,” she cries. “‘Cause any woman of class, taste, and sense knows to steer clear!” With tears in her eyes, she pushes between us, stomping away.

I’m just trying to distract myself. I’m maintaining forward motion. A shark always has to keep swimming, right? If I stop moving, I’ll think about Tess. And if I think about Tess in those black fishnet stockings, I’ll get hard. And if I get hard, I’ll scare the rookies.

Tess slips between me and the door as she opens it. “Whoa—ohmygod,” she cries, throwing a hand up over her eyes. I peer over her head to see a half-dressed Novy and Morrow spit-roasting some blonde girl. Novy is closer, his back to us. They both turn to the door at the same time, eyes wide. “Get the fuck out,” Novy barks, still thrusting into the girl from behind. His toned ass is on display, pants around his thighs. The girl between them pops off Morrow’s dick. I think my brain explodes when Poppy turns to face us, eyes wide, those tight blonde curls now disheveled. “Ohmygod,” she shrieks, a look of horror on her face as she locks eyes with me. “Oh my god,” I bellow back as Tess pulls the door shut with a quick, “Sorry, carry on!”

“Ryan, the last man who touched me did so in anger. I think it’s making me afraid to take this step with you. I’m afraid of the surrender, of the loss of control.” He goes still, holding his breath as his eyes flash. “I want you to help me reclaim it.” He raises a brow. “Your control?” “And my consent,” I say with a nod. “Both.”

“Yes,” I beg, swallowing my nerves. “Yes, what?” he says with a raised brow. Oh, my sweet puppy did not come to play. I knew I sensed a hunger for domination in him.

“Do you really think I would ever look sideways at another woman when I have this goddess at my feet?”

“I’m putting my mark on you tonight. You are not a free dick anymore, Ryan. This is mine ‘til I say otherwise.” His hand tightens in my hair. “Do it. Claim me.”

“Unlike the idiot twins down the hall, I don’t fucking share. It’s not in my nature. If my dick is yours, that pussy is mine. We can still be friends who fuck, but I’ll be the only one you’re fucking.

Okay, my pussy is officially fanning herself with anticipation. Dom Ryan might be my new favorite.

“Exploring sex with you has been so much fun. You talk of trusting me? Well, I wanna trust you too. Will you be my first?”

“I need you to ask Shelby if the camera in the nursery records, or if it’s just live action. And if it is recording, I need you to ask her to just go ahead and erase everything from last night without watching any of it. Okay? Cool. Bye.”

“In the nursery, Tess?” Jake says, his tone laced with disappointment. “Where Baby Josh sleeps?”

“Tess’s brain is at war with her heart, which has been hijacked by her vagina,”

“Falling for a guy and falling to your death are not the same things,” she counters. “That the sensations are similar for you is what we called trauma, Tess. If you’re not ready to be with Ryan, be a big enough person to tell him that. I really don’t want to see either of you get hurt.”

“Married happy Rachel is a total buzz kill,” I say, snatching my coffee off the side table. “I’m leaving before whatever infection you have spreads to me.”

Life is short, and I feel like doing some more free-falling before it ends.

“What we need to know is what happens now,” says Mars, holding up a hand to silence them. “She’s ours to protect.” “Yeah, she’s Rachel’s family,” adds Sanny. “Which makes her our family.” “You’re in sister-fucking territory right now, asshole,” says Jake. “Which is against, like, every code in the hockey bro handbook. No moms, no sisters. You’re lucky we don’t have you in a headlock on the floor.”

“She’s fucking everything, alright? I’m fucking—I’m obsessed with her.” I groan, dragging both my hands through my hair. “Oh, shit.” Jake’s eyes are wide as he takes me in. “I’m not sleeping,” I admit. “I’m not eating. I’m distracted on and off the ice. Since the moment I saw her standing in those waves on beach day, it’s like…” I try to think of the right words to explain it. “It’s like pieces of me are getting chipped away and replaced with her.”

“Listen, Hades. You need to call off your three-headed guard dog,”

“Hades,” Jake snorts. “Sorry, babe, but that’s totally gonna stick.” “I’m making us Team Cerberus shirts,” says Sanford.

“Look, I don’t need any help running her off. That woman was born with a pair of Nike Airs strapped to her feet.”

She sighs, leaning against the doorframe. “You really like her?” “I think I’m falling in love with her,” I admit. My eyes go wide to mirror hers, and I realize too late my mistake. “Oh—please, God, don’t tell her. Please—fuck—I know you have your girl code that you have to share everything, but Doc, please. She’ll run so fucking fast. She’s not ready. She—” “Ryan,” she says with a soft laugh, placing her hand on my arm and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I won’t tell her, okay? You’re right. If you tell her that right now, we’ll be repairing a Tess-shaped hole in Ilmari’s wall.”

“Right, show her. I can do that. Wait—how do you show someone you love them? Flowers? Chocolates?” She smirks. “Is this a Hallmark movie? Are you gonna teach her the true meaning of Christmas, too, Langley?” “Well, fuck, I don’t know,” I cry, my frustration rising. “I’ve never done this before. I’ve never tried to show a woman I love her.”

I’ll leave the threats to my three-headed guard dog,”

If I go in there talking to my girl with this sappy look on my face, I’ll get ribbed for a week. “Wait—so I’ll see you later, right?” “Bye, Ryan.” She hangs up. Yeah, I’ll see her later. Tess Owens is it for me. I intend to keep seeing her for the rest of my forever.

That’s what Caleb is implying—that despite all the odds, despite all the feelings of insecurity I have, telling me I don’t deserve this, I have a home again. It’s not Ilmari’s bungalow. It’s the man sharing it with me. The sweet, twenty-two-year-old man who plays hockey and loves Mario Kart and can never answer a single text message. The man who always puts the oven on the wrong setting even though you tell him three times. The man who needs a haircut and fucks me like a god. The man who makes me laugh and listens when I speak and holds me when I cry. The man who’s been showing me every day since the day we met how he intends to put me first. Ryan Langley. My Ryan. My home.

“You deserve a second chance, Tess,” he says, reading me like a goddamn book. “At everything—love, adventure. I want to help you.” He brushes my hair back, tucking it behind my ear. “You’re my dream girl. So long as you’re on this earth and breathing, I know what I want. I know what I’m working towards.”

“You’re gonna show me how you feel about me, Tess.” He releases me, stripping out of his T-shirt and dropping it to the kitchen floor. “We’re fucking with feelings. All of them. Every single one. Give me your rage and your passion, all your broken fucking dreams. Show me how much you care.”

“Tell me you’re mine,” he begs, his voice hoarse with command. “Not just your pussy. Not your body. We’re not friends who fuck to feel good tonight. We’re more than that. God, just say that you’re mine.”

“It all worked out in the end,” I say, going for a casual tone. “Rachel took me back to her hotel, dried me off, and tucked me in on her very uncomfortable sofa. I think I cried in her arms for two hours, threw up in the bathtub, and in the morning, we ate our weight in French toast. We’ve been best friends ever since.”

He saw me naked on beach day. He was in the pantry, digging around like a raccoon, looking for more chips, and I didn’t see him in there.”

“That sweet man is not gonna bolt,” she says, pointing her finger in the direction of the restaurant windows. “Ryan Langley stays. If you want him, he’s yours for the taking. If you don’t, let him down gently…and soon. Because he is crazy about you, honey. He’s in this. He’s sticking. Let him stick…or let him go.”

“Don’t worry about Ryan or who you think he wants you to be. If you want to be fun Tess again, be her for yourself. Dance in your underwear, eat whipped cream from the can. Wild Tess is yours before she belongs to anyone else.”

“She is my wife’s closest friend, which must make her my friend. I will care for her and protect her as I would Rachel.”

“Because life is short, Ryan. Life is beautiful and short, and you only get one. Live it on purpose.”

“I don’t like Daddy,” I say, leaning away with a frown. She grins, dropping her hand to cup my hard erection. “Can I call you ‘sir’ again? Or maybe master? My lord?”

“Fuck, seriously? Your safe word for handcuffed, tied down anal sex is gonna be Bowser?”

I hear the bridge of “Tolerate It” and my heart sinks. No woman listens to Evermore without having thoughts of a love lost.

“Tess, I love you,” I say, my hand cupping her cheek. “Whatever he said to you, whatever leverage you think he has on me—on us—it doesn’t matter. Not when we know what we share is genuine. Fuck all the easy criticisms—the age gap and the career differences, us being on different life paths. Age is just a number. And all our careers prove is that we’re both driven and hard-working. And sure, you’re going through some shit with this divorce, but it’s just a life change. Everyone has them. I’m going through one now too—my contract extension, my new endorsement deals. These are once-in-a-career changes and I’m living them now. Did I mention the new one with Bauer?”

“God, I fucking hate him. I hope Troy falls into a vat of toxic, boiling goo like in that-that movie. You know, the one with Arnold Schwarzenegger. What’s it called?” She looks up at me expectantly. “He’s been in a lot of movies, babe.” “Yeah, but there’s only one where he’s a machine that gets dropped into a lava vat,” she cries. “Terminator?” I offer with a confused frown. “Yes,” she says with a snap of her fingers. “That’s what I want. I want Troy to stumble off a catwalk into a vat of molten lava, and I want to stir him in with a stick. I don’t want him murdered, because I don’t believe in that—and I’m not going to kill him, because again, I know that’s objectively wrong. But I just need him to trip, you know? I need him to wear his stupid loafers with the tassels that make him look like a trust fund tool, and I need the tassel to get caught in the grate of the catwalk, and I need him to fall into the lava vat.” I just blink, staring down at this woman I love. “That’s some dark shit, babe.” “Yeah, well, Troy brings out the fucking worst in me,” she snaps. “And he deserves nothing less for what he’s trying to do to you.”