Pucked Under (Pucked #4.5)

by Helena Hunting

  “Am I naked?”

  “You might be.”

  “Oh my God. Oh, God. People might see me naked!”

  “If it’s any consolation, you look great naked,” Lance says.

  “Seriously, man, I’m about half a second away from punching you in the face.” My fists really want to act on their own.

  “Wait, when did you see Lily naked?” Miller asks.

  Lily strokes her throat absently. “Randy came home from a series of away games. I didn’t get the message that Lance was with him until I opened the door.”

  “You opened the door naked?” Sunny asks. “How come I didn’t know about this?”

  “Well, technically I wasn’t naked. I was wearing a bow. Not that it matters. What matters is that someone might have your phone, and there are pictures of me on it. Naked.”

  “Lance has a point, though. You look great naked,” Violet adds, as if this is going to help.

  “When the fuck have you seen Lily naked?” I look from Lily to Violet and back again.

  Violet gives me the stink eye. “Are you serious with this? You guys probably stand around the locker room comparing your junk and smacking each other on the ass because you scored a goal. We’re girls. We get changed in front of each other. They’ve all seen me trussed up in slutty fetish gear, thanks to this one.” She points at Charlene. “Lily had to hold my boobs for me.”

  “What slutty fetish gear?” Alex asks.

  Violet waves him off. “Never mind. We’ll talk about that later.”

  Now I’m curious how many cinderblocks and how much rope I need. “Show of hands. Who hasn’t seen Lily naked?”

  Lily plants her fists on her hips. “Honestly, Randy?”

  Only Miller and Darren raise their hands.

  I look at Alex. He’s bigger than me. I still might have to take him down, though. Or at least try.

  He half raises his hand, then brings up the other one as well, as if to ward me off. “She was six. We were kids. It doesn’t really count.”

  “Motherfucker.”

  “It doesn’t matter which of our friends have seen me naked, because if someone has your phone and they jailbreak it, everyone on the goddamn planet is going to see me naked, or partly naked, and being finger-banged by you!”

  I don’t think she meant to say that last part out loud. She covers her mouth with her palm.

  “Nice,” Charlene says. Then she turns and whispers something to Darren.

  “No one is gonna see that video,” I reassure Lily.

  “How do you know? You can’t even find your damn phone. I teach kids! I can’t have internet porn out in cyberspace!”

  This is the point where Lily goes into a full meltdown. I’ve seen her cry a few times, and man, did it ever freak me out, but this is way beyond tears. This is full-on panic-sobbing. I try to hug her, but she pushes me away and goes to Sunny, which makes me feel a million times worse.

  “Wait a second. Don’t you have a phone locator?” Charlene asks.

  “What?”

  “That app where you can locate your phone remotely?” Her tone implies I’m stupid for not knowing what she’s talking about, but there’s been panic, so my head isn’t totally clear.

  “Fuck! Yes! I do. Someone give me a phone!” I hold out a hand.

  Lance hands me his. It takes me two tries to log into my account, but I finally get in there. I’m praying to the internet porn gods that it’s not in another state. It shows up as being less than fifty feet away. “It’s here!”

  “What?” Lily hiccups and seizes the phone so she can have a look.

  “It’s here. It’s on the property.” I follow the tracker until I’m in front of Alex’s SUV. It takes another five minutes, but I find it stuck between the back seats. The battery is totally dead, but I have it.

  Lily’s still a blubbering mess, but at least now she’s crying because she’s relieved, not because she thinks she’s started her career as an internet porn star. And I have to say, I’m pretty damn relieved that the relatively small pool of people who have seen her without clothes on is going to remain that way.

  As a precaution, we decide it’s still a good idea to get a digital camera, as well as a mini video camera, so we can leave the phones out of it. As soon as my phone has enough power to turn on, Lily forces me to delete all of my videos. I don’t even get to watch them again, which makes me sad.

  But I’m hoping she’ll let me make new ones with the video camera we’re going to buy.

  As soon as we’ve had breakfast—or more like brunch—I take her into town. While we’re shopping, and I’m apologizing and constantly checking for my phone, Lily runs across a vintage-looking Polaroid camera.

  “This is awesome!” she says, finally sounding like herself again.

  “We should get it.”

  “That’s not necessary. The digital one will be perfect.”

  Her eyes are still slightly red and puffy, and her lips are swollen—something that apparently happens when she cries. I feel guilty that I caused her worry, and one way to alleviate that is to get her something that will make her happy. If a Polaroid camera puts a smile on her face and keeps it there, I’m getting it.

  Lily tries to make me put it back, because it’s a little pricey. I cup her chin in my palm and tilt her head up to look in her eyes. I don’t care if it makes the store clerk uncomfortable.

  “I want all the good memories from this weekend captured, and I like that I’ll get instant proof of their existence every time you take a picture with this.”

  She lets me take the camera from her and give it to the guy behind the counter, who sets it next to the video camera and digital camera we selected. Then I kiss her, softly and without tongue, before I turn back to the guy, who now looks like he’s about to have a heart attack. Possibly from our PDA. Whatever.

  I buy twenty packs of Polaroid film because we still have the rest of today and all day tomorrow to make a bunch of awesome memories. Also, I have plans for the bedroom tonight.

  7

  AREA 51 DISCOVERIES

  LILY

  On the way back to Alex’s cottage, Randy finds an off-roading path. He parks the truck and apologizes for scaring the crap out of me with the phone fiasco by using his tongue and his amazing cock. I’m grateful for the apology and the phone not being lost.

  Beyond the humiliation of having our very prolific sex life broadcasted all over the internet, I can’t even imagine the backlash from the bunnydom. Since I started dating Randy, the bunnies have been guzzling Haterade something fierce. It got worse when he moved me into his house.

  I used to think it was crazy how magazines would feature pictures of celebrities grocery shopping, or walking up the steps to their front porch. Like, seriously, who cares what grocery store people shop at? Now that I’m the one people are hypothesizing about, I can tell you a lot of people do care.

  I realized this when all of a sudden Randy and I were the focal point of hockey-fanatic speculation: I was pregnant. I’d blackmailed him into letting me move in. We’d secretly gotten married—that came on the heels of Alex and Violet’s impromptu Vegas wedding, so it was the least farfetched of all the possibilities. My personal favorite was that we were somehow related and having an incestuous, torrid affair. Most of it I let roll off my back. But sometimes it was hard to take. Sometimes it still is.

  So while I’m learning how to handle social media with some level of grace, there’s no way in hell I’d ever want those little videos Randy and I make—for and with each other—to go anywhere beyond us. The exception being the first one he ever sent me, which I shared only with a couple of friends. That was the night I started to fall in love with Randy, and he with me. I see it every time I watch that clip. It’s in his eyes, in the soft way he looks at me and touches me.

  Everyone’s down at the dock when we get back to the cottage. Randy’s already in his swim shorts, so he sends me up to the room to get changed on my own. That’s okay since I h
ad a shot of moody dick on the way home.

  I come down in a string bikini chosen with the help of Violet and Charlene on a recent shopping trip. It’s not my usual style. There isn’t much in the way of fabric, and half my bum is on display, but they both agreed it’s sexy, so I bought it. I pull a cover-up over it so I don’t feel quite so self-conscious, throw a couple extra towels in my beach bag, and join the rest of our friends.

  Randy’s already getting acquainted with the Polaroid camera. I sneak up behind him as he snaps a selfie and snatch the picture from the camera.

  “Hey! Gimme that!” He grabs for me, but I jump out of reach. He can’t really come after me since he’s surrounded by developing photos on his armrests and Wiener is in his lap.

  “I’ll give it to you in a minute.”

  He snaps a picture of me. “What’s under that cover-up?”

  “What do you think?” I wave the picture around in the air like I’ve seen people do.

  “That doesn’t actually make them develop any faster,” Lance says.

  “It doesn’t?”

  “No, but if it makes you feel good to dance around like that, far be it from me to tell you to stop.”

  He grins, and Randy takes a picture. I wish he could capture Lance’s accent in that image, or the teasing in his voice. He’s a lot more relaxed today than he was when he arrived last night.

  Hangover recovery is in full effect. Miller’s asleep in a lounge chair with a hat over his face. Sunny’s seated beside him with a bottle of sunblock that she sprays over him to prevent his fair skin from burning. When she sees me, she poses beside him, raising his hand in a mock wave so Randy can get another shot.

  “Oh, get one of me and Sunny! We’re bathing suit boob twins today!” Violet runs over and pulls her cover-up over her head, then helps Sunny do the same.

  Randy hands me the camera. “I like my teeth where they are, especially since only a couple of them aren’t mine.”

  “Good call, Ballistic. You’re learning,” Alex calls from the boat. He’s setting up the water ski rope.

  Sunny and Violet are wearing the same bathing suit, except Sunny has on the white version and Violet is wearing red. The Chicago logo is emblazoned as a pattern on the top, and a large logo decorates the front of the crotch. Violet turns around so I can get a picture of her backside, which reads “Mrs. Waters.” Sunny adjusts the right butt cheek, but it still isn’t doing the best job of covering Violet’s ample assets. All the guys except Alex are busy looking anywhere but at Violet’s bum.

  I pass the camera back to Randy and check out his selfie now that it’s had a chance to develop. It’s probably one of the best pictures he’s ever taken. He’s wearing his signature smirk and looking directly at the camera like he’s about to get up to no good—in my pants. Or my bikini bottoms, as it were.

  “Let’s see that one.” He pulls on my cover-up, trying to get me to come closer.

  “You can’t have this back.” I hold it face down to my chest.

  “It’s that bad?”

  “No. I love it that much.”

  “Well, now I need to have a look.” He reaches for it and slides his other hand under my cover-up to grab a handful of bum. His brow furrows, and he lifts the hem, peeking underneath. “Whoa. Where’s the rest of this?” He skims the edge of the bottoms with a fingertip.

  “There is no rest of it.”

  “Maybe you should put on the one from yesterday again.”

  “I can’t. It’s dirty.” Damn it. I knew this bathing suit was too much—or too little, actually. I shouldn’t have caved when Violet and Charlene told me to buy it.

  “I’ll be making sure this one’s too dirty to wear again, too,” he says.

  “Who wants to go water skiing?” Alex yells.

  I raise both hands in the air and wave them around. “Me!”

  Randy puts his hands on my ass, like he’s pretending he’s my new bathing suit. I smack his hands away and tuck the picture he’s forgotten about into my bag, carefully storing it between the pages of a book. I’m worried about Randy’s reaction when he sees the entirety of this bathing suit. Taking a deep breath, I pull my cover-up over my head and toss it at him. His mouth drops open, and he makes these weird flailing hand gestures. They scare Wiener, who jumps to the dock and starts barking.

  “I can’t—you gotta—” He shakes his head, balling my cover-up in his lap.

  “Want to spot me?” I ask.

  “I’m gonna need a minute.”

  Lance and Darren laugh.

  Randy runs a rough hand through his hair. “I feel like it’s freshman year of high school all over again.”

  “What?” I cover my boobs. They haven’t grown since grade nine.

  “He’s got a chubby. Like when one of the cute girls got up and sharpened her pencil and the guys couldn’t get out of their desks for ten minutes afterward,” Lance says.

  “And then it was a competition to see who could get the bathroom pass,” Darren adds.

  “I can totally see Romance whacking off in the boys bathroom, but I feel like you might’ve enjoyed spending the day with blue balls,” Violet says.

  “No one enjoys spending the day with blue balls. Not even me,” Darren replies.

  I take the skis and a lifejacket from Alex and suit up.

  “You wanna drop one?” he asks.

  “Let’s see how I manage on two first.”

  Randy seems to feel ready now—he’s traded my cover-up for a towel in front of his junk—and he and Violet decide to be my spotters. Randy pretends like he brought the towel in case I can’t handle it out there, but that’s ridiculous because I’m more than capable of water skiing.

  It doesn’t take me long to get the hang of it again. After a quick tour, I decide to drop a ski. I’m feeling rather confident, and part of me wants to show off in front of Randy.

  Everything is fine at first. I drop the ski no problem, but we run right into a huge wake from a boat coming from the other direction. Alex tries to minimize the waves, but I’m unprepared. The tip of my ski dips under the wake instead of cutting through it, and my foot pops free of the binding. I let go of the rope before I’m dragged down. Instead, I do a few cartwheels across the surface before I somersault twice and go under. As soon as I break the surface, I raise my arm to signal I’m okay.

  Randy’s standing up, hand in his hair. It drops when he sees me waving. My ski is a long way away, so I stay put while Alex drives over to get it and then swings around to me.

  “Nice wipeout! That was impressive. I bet you have the cleanest vagina ever now!” Violet says.

  “At least I didn’t give myself an enema.”

  “You wanna get in the boat or try getting up on one ski?” Alex asks.

  I can tell Randy would like me to get back in the boat, so I’m about to do the opposite when I realize it’s feeling a whole lot free on my bottom half. “Uhh…” I swim in a circle, looking for a scrap of pale pink fabric, but all I see is navy water. “I may have lost my bottoms.”

  Alex purses his lips, maybe because he’s embarrassed, maybe because he’s trying not to laugh at my expense. “In the boat it is, I guess.”

  “Well, that gives new meaning to being blown out of the water,” Violet snickers.

  “It’s a good thing I brought a towel, huh?” Randy holds it out to me as I climb the ladder.

  I grab it and wrap it around my waist. “You think you’re so funny.”

  “At least now I don’t have to fuck you in a mud puddle to make that bikini unwearable.”

  After I change my bathing suit, we spend the next couple of hours taking turns water skiing. Violet gives up after three tries and goes tubing instead.

  When we run out of gas, the guys go back to playing Frisbee with the dogs, while me and the girls go for another round of flipping through baby and wedding magazines. It’s an amazing day. I feel incredibly blessed to have such wonderful friends. I’m even grateful for Benji, my ridiculous ex. If h
e hadn’t been a total asshole a year ago, Randy might never have walked in on me in the bathroom, weed whacking my forest legs. Then I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to fall in love with him.

  Randy and I don’t get any alone time until late in the afternoon. Everyone’s tired from all the sun, so we disappear into our rooms for downtime before we start dinner. I flop face down on the mattress. There’s some rustling around from Randy on the other side of the room, but I’m surprisingly exhausted. I close my eyes and debate whether or not I can catch a two-minute nap before we get naked.

  Something hard hits me in the shoulder, and something else ricochets off my arm. I remain immobile, my face mashed into the comforter. I don’t think I even have the energy to turn my body ninety degrees so my head is on a pillow and my feet aren’t hanging off the edge.

  The bed dips and Randy’s body covers mine. He’s naked and hard. I’m not surprised.

  He noses my hair out of the way. “You’re not thinking about napping, are you?”

  “What if I was?” I mumble into the comforter.

  “I can think of a few things that would be way more exciting than napping.” Randy rolls his hips, his erection nestled between my butt cheeks.

  “Like a game of Crazy Eights?”

  He nips my shoulder and nudges my cheek with his forehead, like he’s trying to get me to turn my head. I don’t move at all, keeping my face hidden in the bedding. It’s not easy to breathe, but I really am that tired. It doesn’t mean I honestly want to take a nap before we have the sexy times, it just means I’m psyching myself up. The apology sex was an appetizer; Randy’s going to want to put on a serious performance. That means a lot of orgasms are coming my way.

  “I found some interesting items in your bag when I was looking for my phone earlier,” he murmurs.

  “If you want me to wear sexy lingerie, you’re going to have to put it on me. I don’t even think I can move my arms.” I have no idea if he can understand a word I’m saying since I’m speaking to the mattress.