Puck Money

by Raine Miller

  “I only speak the truth, Talia,” he says with a serious look on his handsome face.

  My God, how can he look at me like that?

  I glance down at the book. Iain Cooper’s, Leaving Area 51. It’s a sci-fi with a strong female lead and a heavy dose of romance. It was good. Not one of my top ten, but I can see a dude liking it.

  As I start to read, Boris leans back into the chaise beside me and closes his eyes. I might worry he’s fallen asleep, but I see his face reacting as I read. His lips are a distraction as they twitch in response to funnier lines in the book. I want to kiss those lips more than I’d like to admit.

  I read about three chapters before a big yawn interrupts me. Boris opens his eyes and studies me.

  “You’re tired.”

  “It’s way past my bedtime.”

  “One more chapter and then I’ll go?”

  I can’t say no to him. I cannot. And I certainly don’t want to, either. And then there is the fact that he’s still half-naked. So, I swallow my lust and turn the page.

  I start the next chapter, but this time he doesn’t close his eyes. He watches me the whole time. Every word. That dark look returns to his eyes—the one I saw when we were dancing at the club together.

  Is he…turned on? By my reading?

  I finish the chapter and then mark the page. We stare at each other for a long time and my breathing feels labored. I can’t deny it. I am very, very attracted to this man. He seems…just so good. A good guy. It’s so much more than him having a handsome face and a chiseled body. It’s Boris, the man. It’s all of him. I like everything about him, and now at least I should start by being honest, and by admitting that I want him.

  He’s still a client, though. I made myself a promise I wouldn’t cross the line ever again.

  I stand abruptly, LuLu flying off the chaise with an annoyed meow. The blanket falls to the floor as I grab for it, stammering something about needing to check my phone to see if Parker has messaged me.

  He’s right there, on his feet, so close to me. His big body fills up the space between us, and suddenly, it’s hard to breathe. But now I know it’s not just me, because I can see the bulge in his jeans. He’s hard. Words come out of his mouth in that raspy, ultra-sexy, Boris-speak he does so well. I have no idea what he just said, because I can’t tear my eyes away from his huge cock pushing against denim fabric.

  There you have it. I’m weak.

  And so very turned on by the sexy-Boris show that I’m no longer a rational woman trying to do the right thing.

  Everything aches. My nipples are hard, straining against the lace of my bra. I’m wet, aching, and hot between my legs. And then I notice his nipples are hard, too, and I can’t help it. Goddamn, I can’t help it. I reach out and touch him. I touch his bare chest with my palm before running a fingertip over his nipple.

  He shivers, a soft moan coming from somewhere deep in his throat. His face is intense, his eyes so, so dark and hungry.

  I pull away, biting one side of my bottom lip. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t have crossed that line.”

  “I’m going to kiss you now, Talia.”

  I barely make out his words, he said them so quietly. But still, he’s warning me for what’s about to happen. It’s now on me to put a stop to this.

  I can’t.

  I won’t…

  He leans down closer…closer…

  And then his lips are touching mine and his hand is snaking into my hair to cradle my head. His other hand is on my lower back pulling me firmly against him as he takes full control of the kiss.

  And I’m hopelessly and utterly lost to him. Whatever he’s going to do I am fully on board. Yes, please, yes.

  It’s not a hard kiss, but it’s not gentle either. It’s perfect as Boris works on giving me a kiss I’ll never forget for as long as I live. His lips move over mine as if he’s trying to devour me. He flicks his tongue against my bottom lip, demanding more. I open to him as his tongue licks against mine, ravishing my mouth with masterful control. He kisses me in a way that leaves me reeling with only one thought in mind.

  I need so much more of this.

  He kisses me like he owns me. Tasting me over and over and over until I’m dizzy with desire, melting into his hard body, letting him hold me up. And he definitely is holding me up, for now.

  Maybe he can read my mind because he presses me back down onto the chaise and crawls on top of me. Not crushing me but caging me in underneath him. I feel so small beneath his big body, but it feels perfect and right because we fit together like puzzle pieces waiting to be snapped in place. The hard length of his cock rocking into me is making me so wet for him. I sigh when he nudges my legs apart with his knees and sinks deeper against me, his hips rocking his hard cock over my sensitive clit in tandem with what his tongue is doing in my mouth. A steady rhythm of sexy that will give me a fantastic orgasm if he keeps doing it and doesn’t stop.

  Oh God, I will die if he stops.

  It’s ecstasy being held and kissed and caressed by someone who knows what he’s doing. He takes my bottom lip in his teeth and gives me a gentle bite. He does it over and over—his teeth coming together to snag my lip in a tenuous hold before dragging away until it pops free again. I’m delirious, and utterly past trying to keep control, to keeping this sweet and light between us.

  It’s no longer sweet when I take his hand and guide it down the front of the thin leather leggings I wore tonight.

  It’s no longer light when he fingers my pussy and feels how wet he’s made me.

  It’s downright dirty and delicious when I slide my hand inside the front of his jeans to find his cock pulsing hot and hard, wrap my fingers around the silky skin, and stroke him up and down. He growls into my mouth and rasps out some Russian words. I have no idea what he just said but my active imagination is extremely good at visualizing. It sounded animalistic, like a man telling me what he’d like for us to do.

  I want to fuck you.

  Yes, yes, yes…

  And then Boris does the one thing that will most certainly cause my imminent death.

  I will die now.

  Because he just stopped.

  Nineteen

  You Sick or Something?

  Boris

  I break off the kiss so suddenly it feels painful when I move myself off her with a frustrated groan. Because I don’t do this. I don’t do casual sex. Honestly, this didn’t feel casual with Talia, but I know we’ve both been drinking tonight. Still, it’s way over the line, and we have to continue to work together. Make that, I want to continue working with her. I can’t have some decision I made irrationally in the heat of the moment get in the way of what we’re trying to accomplish together.

  As I back away, Talia looks crestfallen, confused, and upset. She’s frowning and biting her bottom lip again. Her stormy blue eyes are staring up at me with a whole lot of “what the fuck” swirling around in their depths. It’s just fucking awful.

  “I’m so sorry, Talia. I apologize to you for that—whatever that was. It’s just that we—we can’t do this. You’re beautiful and kind and I really like you very much, but we have a professional relationship. I don’t want to make it weird by crossing the line. Well, by crossing the line further than I just did. Again, I’m sorry. Please say you understand?”

  She nods, but she’s still biting her lip and I can see that her eyes are now watery. Have I made her cry? God, what fucking asshole I’ve been to her. Why did I allow things between us get so extremely out of control?

  “I’m really sorry.” I know I’m babbling as I head for the door, grabbing my shirt from the counter as I pull her door open. I can’t help from looking back at her one more time. Talia stands in the same place where I left her, looking so beautiful, and rejected, and not happy with me at all.

  I hate this. It’s fucked-up and I caused it.

  I want to rush back over to her and take her in my arms and kiss the ugliness of the last few moments away
until she’s humming with desire again. Because that was one of the hottest moments of my life. Because tasting her, feeling her…God, I want that so much. But that would just make everything even worse between us, so I walk out her door instead, shutting it behind me with a heavy click.

  As I step onto the lift to go to my floor, Talia’s friend from the club gets out. She nods at my bare chest and grins, pointing with her eyes to Talia’s door.

  I hear her go inside and say, “Who just got laid toni—“ then, “wait, what’s wrong?” just as the elevator door shuts in my face.

  Blyad’.

  Delicate wrists I could easily hold in one hand. A tiny waist I could easily span with two. Long lovely legs wrapped around my ass while my hands were cupping hers. Her tongue moving in my mouth. Tasting her. Feeling how wet her pussy was under my fingers. Her hand on my cock. Fuuuuck.

  Talia’s body working with mine was a study in contrasts.

  And it’s the only thing I can think about as the lift takes me up three floors away from her. I wonder if she’ll ever know just how badly I wanted to take her to bed and explore every inch of her finely made form. That kiss was just a taste. A small taste that only made me want to spend hours pleasuring her. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone before in my life.

  What the fuck just happened?

  Somehow—through a haze of frustration—I manage to stumble up to my apartment, stopping to bang my head against the door before unlocking it. I am an idiot. That was not good. I mean, it was good. Too good. But I did not handle it well. I should go back and explain myself. I wasn’t trying to be a jerk. Far from it, in fact. I was trying to be respectful. I was trying not to take advantage of her.

  I guess I shouldn’t have announced I was going to kiss her. Bloody fucking hell. This is all my fault. I should go back and apologize. Get on my knees and beg her forgiveness. Or get on my knees and do something else to her instead…because the scent of her is still on my fingers.

  No. I drew a line but crossed it. It’s important I don’t cross it again. I respect her too much and very much need her counsel. Somehow, I’ll need to find a way to make this disaster up to her.

  As soon as I get inside, I make a beeline for my shower. Priority number one is washing away all the grime I can feel on my skin right now. Maybe it can wash away the stupid thing I just did with Talia too. But that’s totally wishful thinking because as soon as I step under the hot water filling my bathroom with steam, all I can see is Talia, twisting her hair around her finger as she read to me, her beautiful pink lips moving as she spoke. All I can feel is the softness of those lips pressed to mine as I nibbled on her bottom lip with my teeth, and how soft and wet her pussy was against my fingers underneath those smokin’ hot leather pants.

  My hand is on my cock before I can even stop myself. Jerking off in the shower is nothing new but doing it to thoughts of Talia is. I don’t want to forget how she smelled and tasted and felt. Or the noises she made. Or the way she rubbed against me when I had her underneath me. Or how my cock felt in her tight grip. Talia is an intelligent woman, a successful woman. Her mind impresses me as much as anything else but tonight? I experienced another side of her: uncaged, wanton, and perfectly fucking gorgeous. I want more from her. Much, much more.

  I come explosively, thinking only of her, gritting my teeth and groaning loudly as the cum jets out the tip of my cock. I wish it was buried tight and deep inside her instead of being fisted in my hand. It’s not enough, not by a million miles. But it has to be.

  It has to be, because even if I wanted to go back for more, she’d never accept my lame excuse. Why I had to pull away. And she didn’t deserve what I did; something that can’t happen again. Fuck.

  Tyler elbows me in the ribs.

  “I saw you leave, bro. Alone like some kind of celibate monk or whatever.”

  I grit my teeth and ignore him as I pull on my pads. He gets another jab in before I can get covered up. “Why are you so concerned about what I do or don’t do in my private life?”

  “I’m just sayin’” he rattles on, “that it’s much nicer to get your threesome on with twins than to go home to your sad, empty apartment to whack off by yourself. You gotta live a little, buddy.”

  “You live your way, I’ll live mine. I already told you casual is not my thing.”

  “Well, with a face like yours, it should be,” he says with a shrug. “And I’m secure enough in my manhood to recognize when a dude is better lookin’ than me. My bestie, Viktor? Not better looking than me. Evan K? Ehhh, yeah, maybe. You? Way outside of my sphere of hotness. It’s a waste not to let such good looks work for you, man.”

  I can’t help but laugh, even as I’m shaking my head. Tyler is ridiculous. And not far from the truth. I mean, I didn’t technically go home alone, but I did whack off by myself. A hazard of getting too close to Talia Wentworth. Of course, Tyler doesn’t need to know a single thing about her. No way do I want him even near her.

  Dressed in my practice uniform I head out on the ice, my head still on the pretty girl with the glasses. I swear, she’s been all I’ve been able to think about for the past two days. I really screwed things up with her and I still don’t know what to do about it.

  For two days, I’ve been messing up in practice because my head is not in the game like it should be. Coach has gotten on me for missing passes, letting myself get checked, and not hitting the goals I should be able to shoot with my eyes closed. And now, Evan is pulling me to the side.

  “Dude, you want to tell me what’s going on with you? You sick or something?”

  “Something like that,” I mutter, because I’m definitely not going to admit that my issues on the ice have to do with the fact that I kissed my investment advisor and liked it too much.

  “Sit this drill out if you need to,” he says.

  I shake my head. “I’ll get it together. Sorry.”

  Evan doesn’t look convinced. He puts his gloved hand on my padded shoulder and says, “Take a break if you need it. Or we can talk after practice.”

  I give a nod and head off to grab water, banishing all thoughts of Talia for now. I do manage to get my head into the practice game as we scrimmage, my shots getting clearer. But I’ve got a pounding headache when I head back to the locker room afterwards.

  Evan doesn’t mess around and sends me straight to PT.

  Pam has me face down on the table as she works at tense muscles in my shoulder and neck. “No wonder you’ve got a headache. There’s a lot happening here.”

  “Yes, I have always carried tension there,” I explain.

  “We don’t think this is concussion-related, do we?” she asks.

  “No, it is not.”

  “Something going on that’s stressing you out? Seems like the team is finally gelling pretty well.”

  My first inclination is to clam up. No one needs to know what a total mudak I was with Talia the other night. But it’s really nagging at me, and maybe Pam would know how to help me make it right.

  “The team is good.” Groaning as she puts pressure on a particularly tight spot in my shoulder, I decide to share with her. “It’s just that I think—ahh…I know I messed up…with a woman.”

  “Oh boy!” She becomes positively gleeful. “Well, lay it on me, pal. I’ll tell you how deep you’re in it and just what it’ll take to dig yourself back out.”

  I let out a huff of breath through my nose. “Well, there is this woman. She is helping me to figure out my investments. Very smart. Very—“

  “Beautiful?”

  “Yes. Incredibly. But I can’t cross the line with her. I really need her help with my money management situation, so I don’t want to jeopardize our business relationship.”

  “But you did, I’d gather?”

  “Yes. I saw her out at a club the other night. We danced and then I walked her home. It turns out we live in the same building, so we showed each other our apartments.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad,” Pam says. “
Turn over on your back for me.”

  I flip over and then continue with the story. I tell her about Talia spilling her tea on me. “She is always spilling things.” I can’t help chuckling. “So I had to take off my shirt, and then she read to me.”

  “She…read to you? Like, financial papers or something?”

  “No, a fantasy novel.” I can feel my face doing something between a grin and a wince. “It is a long story. But it…it was sexy. Her reading. And she looked so beautiful. Annnd…then I kissed her.”

  “And then she slapped your face and told you to go to hell?” Pam grins down at me.

  “No, quite the opposite. She reciprocated. A lot.”

  “Okay, you were both into it. What’s the problem?”

  “She is my investment manager. I did not want to cross the professional line, but I did. So, I backed off, apologized, and left.”

  “Wait, so you kissed her, then rejected her?”

  And that’s why you don’t tell another woman about the idiot you were. Because they tell it as it is. Shameful.

  “I suppose it would appear so,” I admit. “I just—the kissing was over the line in the first place. I didn’t want to further complicate things between us. I thought I was doing the right thing by putting a halt on further intimacy.”

  “Hmmm.”

  Pam works at stretching my arms and shoulders while she thinks about what I’ve just told her. Finally, she tells me to sit up and asks how I’m feeling.”

  “Better. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. So, I get where you’re coming from. The team here has this crazy non-fraternization policy, which has been challenged in numerous ways over the past couple of years. Georg and I met before I started here, but things got more serious once I started working on staff and we really couldn’t be together.”

  “But you are, so—”