Strong and Wild (Lakes Hockey, #2)

by Sloane St. James

For those who think praise and degradation go together like anal sex and aftercare. This one’s for you.

As if on cue, Birdie’s phone buzzes with a video call from her husband. They’re so adorable I want to run into oncoming traffic.

“Yes. If I was locked in a room with Stalin, Hitler, and Rhys, and given a gun with two bullets, I’d shoot Rhys twice.”

“Oh, stop. He’s way too hot to die. A man like that should be ridden hard and often, and denying us the chance goes against every rule of sisterhood. Oh God, think of how hot he’ll get when he’s older—total Daddy. You can’t deprive the world of witnessing a glorious transformation like that.”

If there is a Goddess up there, please let Hat Trick Swayze be hot, available, and not a creep so I can get deep-dicked before this vagina between my legs withers to dust. Amen.

“Don’t you have some skates that need sharpening? Or a stick that needs taping? Perhaps a toaster that needs a bath?”

“Tacos are spicy, sensual, they’re going to give you a wild time. You never know what you’re getting with a taco, they’ll keep you on your toes. They can be hot enough to make you sweat. Stuffed with whatever meat you’re in the mood for. Guacamole may be involved. You can’t have boring taco sex. Pasta will always be there for you, it’s the carbohydrate ride-or-die. Bad day? Pasta, baby. Good day? Still pasta. You can throw in some spice, but overall, it’s safe. That’s who you marry. Ideally, you want pasta on the streets and tacos in the sheets. And pizza is the fuckboy of foods. Fine at a college party or late at night, but he wasn’t going places, and eventually, you had to leave him behind.”

“Obviously, I’m fucking the donut. It already has a hole. It’s sweet and glazed. Sometimes they squirt, they’re messy and sticky—I mean, there’s nothing better than fucking a messy donut. Bagels are wholesome; you can have them for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. They still have a hole, but they’re tougher than a donut so you can fuck them harder and put them into more positions without breaking. They are down for whatever: peanut butter, cream cheese, tomatoes, eggs, bacon, salmon. You know what, I’m marrying AND fucking the bagel. And kill cinnamon rolls because they make my teeth feel like they’re wearing tiny sweaters.”

“You already make it a living hell. Being around you is like having a migraine and an erection at the same time.”

She screams my name as she comes. Fucking hell. If I had to pick between the sound of a goal buzzer or hearing that, it would be the latter. Every time.

Until one night you were standing in front of me, and when I looked in your eyes, I knew instantly you were everything I needed. You consumed me. Our love is a fire, Freya. It’s strong and wild, and knows no bounds.”

“Wanna make a bet on who makes noise first?”