Shameless Puckboy (Puckboys Book 3)

I’VE OFFICIALLY LOST my mind.

I always expected it to happen at some point; it only seems fitting that being around Oskar twenty-four seven has accelerated the process. The sun was barely up this morning when he crept into my room and slid into bed beside me. I should have lectured him on respecting some boundaries, but my morning wood turned needy in a second flat, and I’d ended up pinning him to the bed while I rutted against him until we both came on his deliciously tattooed abs.

I’d wanted to spend time licking the mess off him, but I’m unsure how to play this, and I didn’t want to linger on anything more than the sex until I figure it all out. Apparently, coming affects my mental capacity because I let Oskar go off to the training arena solo. Well, not completely solo. I’m sure Aleks will be there.

I sip my coffee, picturing how easy it would be for me to put the PR heat on Aleks instead. I never would though. I’m not about to ruin a man’s life, but thinking about it is fun.

After I saw him and Oskar kiss, I called him to find out where the hell his head was at. Aleks confirmed he’s bi, and I warned him if he plans to come out while going through a divorce, it would be a PR nightmare. I already have one too many of those.

Maybe getting fired for sleeping with Oskar wouldn’t be so bad if I got out of handling that mess.

My gaze travels out the kitchen window to where Mrs. Huxley is in her backyard, tending to the garden, and my cock gives a slight twitch.

Hmm. First time that’s happened with a woman before. Apparently, after yesterday, my body has created a Pavlovian response to her. Oskar came untouched. Just from sucking my cock while he thought someone was watching. She wasn’t, of course, but he didn’t know that. I’m trying to be creative, not completely stupid.

I’m going to have to come up with a few different scenarios to feed his exhibitionist kink because he’s not going to believe the neighbor line again, and I can’t risk us actually having public sex. It’s risky enough without an audience.

But Oskar needs an audience.

And apparently now so do I, because I missed the hands-free show, and that’s something that I need to see.

A flicker of doubt hits me again, but I shove that shred of morality way down deep. It’s started now, and putting an end to our arrangement will mean absolutely nothing if we’re found out, so I might as well get everything out of it that I can.

Which means while Oskar is gone, I’m going to have to think carefully about this. He’s getting sex to keep him out of headlines, but that’s not enough. His image has been dragged through the mud, which means we need to get back in control of the narrative and show the world more of who Oskar is. And while we’re doing that, I simply have to ignore the saintlike persona we give him.

This is all business.

Well, and sex.

But definitely nothing more than that.

There are still a few hours until Oskar is back from the rink, even though today was a light skate before their game tomorrow, so I have time to come up with a plan before I need to run him through it. First, I need to do something I’m completely dreading but should probably get out of the way.

Me: How are you? Safe flight? Btw I had sex with Oskar. Just thought I’d give you the head’s up on the off chance it gets out.

The reply comes through before I’ve even exited the message.

Damon: You what?!

Me: Should I have used the phrase “we had public relations” instead?

Damon: Dear god, tell me it wasn’t in public.

Me: Relax, I’m reckless, not a lost cause.

Damon: I don’t think you get to claim that when it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since you said that would never happen. It’s Oskar! What were you thinking?

Me: That everything else has failed so it was time to move on to plan X. This is plan X. Triple X if you want to get technical about it.

Damon: This isn’t a joke, Lane. Fuck! At least tell me this isn’t going to happen again.

Me: I wish I could but it will definitely happen again.

Damon: If management finds out, you’ll be in as much shit as he is.

Me: Well aware, thanks. I’m risking everything for this idiot.

Damon: I’m sure it’s a real sacrifice.

I cringe and tuck the phone away in my pocket. That went about as well as I could have hoped for. Way to make friends, Lane.

Still, I did him a professional courtesy, and Damon isn’t going to tell anyone because it would get his client in as much trouble as it would me. He’s a locked box when it comes to his client roster and their secrets.

Now. Oskar. The sex is a smart move because it means I’ll be able to control the situations where he gets off and make sure none of them lead to scandal. It’s crossing all sorts of lines, but it’s both consensual and effective, and with only a few months left of the season, I only need to keep Oskar in line until then. Maybe during the summer, I’ll look for another PR role or hire someone else to manage him, but at least I’ll have a couple of months to figure it out.

With any luck, Oskar’s attitude will have turned around by then, but I’m not going to hold out on that.

The sex could help though. I agreed we’d continue, but I didn’t specify how often. My smile turns filthy as I consider the possibilities. Sex once a week, and Oskar can earn bonus rounds. Good publicity will lead to positive reinforcement. I almost laugh at myself because it sounds like I’m training a dog.

I dump the rest of my coffee down the sink.

It helps to think of Oskar as purely a work problem because it desensitizes me to him. All it took for me to throw myself at him was a hint of jealousy, and that’s without actual feelings involved. But is it worth protecting myself when I feel like dirt for treating him that way? I don’t want to play into his issues and make them worse, especially not when I think that under all the bullshit, Oskar is actually a good guy. He just doesn’t know it. I want to help him bring that side out, but doing that without getting emotionally invested might be impossible.

There has to be a middle ground though. A way to keep the sex detached without treating him like a walking sex doll.

He already has a wealth of issues over being treated like a fuckboy, but I know by the time we walk away from this that my issues are going to get me into trouble too. How I keep being attracted to the same type of man is beyond me, but it explains how I’m still painfully single.

I want a relationship, but I’m always attracted to the guys who don’t.

And Oskar isn’t even exhibit A. Maybe N. Or Z.

I swear I’ve gotten worse over the years, not better. In high school, it was being used by my crushes for rides to school or lunch money. My college boyfriend more or less used me as a sugar daddy, and through the years … there have been a lot of mistakes.

I can already tell Oskar will be added to the list.

I still don’t have my answer when Oskar’s front door slams open a few hours later.

Here we go.

“You told Damon?” he snaps the second he catches sight of me at the dining table.

I don’t answer right away, which I’m sure is driving him nuts. Instead, I finish reading over the media release Keerson has sent me before setting my laptop aside.

“How was your skate?”

“Great until I saw a million missed calls on my phone and got blasted by my agent for being a dumbass.”

“Aren’t you used to that by now?” I ask.

His sweaty hair is plastered to his forehead, and I take it he didn’t shower before getting his ass home. That’s how pissed he is. “You’re avoiding my question.”

“Because it’s a ridiculous question.”

“How is it? We said we weren’t telling anyone.”

“And we aren’t. But Damon is your insurance policy. If it gets out, you can bet your ass he’ll already have a story in the works.” Pity I don’t have the same safety net. Pointing out that I did it for Oskar will go straight over his head though, and I don’t want him looking into the action anyway. My protective side will stay well hidden because I’d be willing to bet he’s the kind of guy who’d use it to his advantage. The others were.

“It doesn’t mean I want my agent knowing about us.”

I laugh. “So, you don’t care that the entire world sees your cheap hookups, but you draw the line at one person knowing you had sex with me. Wow, Oskar. I’m feeling the love.”

He flips me off, then walks into the kitchen and pours himself a drink of water from the fridge door. “It proves his point that I’m incapable of making a single smart decision.”

“Did you tell him it was a choice between me and Aleks? Because I can guarantee he’d agree with your choice.”

Oskar’s face screws up for a second before he drains the glass and sets it in the sink. “You’re like a dog with a bone.”

“It’s called damage control.”

“And I’m the damaged one?”

“I thought that was obvious.” But even as I say it, I eye him. His attitude isn’t as big today. That mask of false bravado is missing, and he looks tired. It could be his usual post-training look, or maybe—just maybe—he’s actually stressed about what he found out yesterday. “I’ve had an idea,” I say, softer this time.

“Is it to give up on this hot-mess express before you go down with me?”

I don’t fall into the pity party with him.

“Sit down.” I kick out the chair next to me, and to my surprise, Oskar does it without argument. “I’ve been playing with your schedule for the next few months and trying to work out some promotional ideas for when we’re home and then teeing you up with anything happening in the cities you travel to.”

He points at the screen. “This one is before a game.”

“Yup.”

“You’ve clearly never played a game of hockey if you want me to help out at a youth center instead of having downtime. I’ll be wrecked.”

I give him a dry look. “And yet you have no issues with going out, getting drunk, and screwing some guy in the VIP area bathrooms the night before a game. I don’t think an hour of volunteering will kill you.”

His eyes cloud over as he remembers the time I’m referring to. Some jackass got a grainy shot under the bathroom door and thought recording the audio would give him five seconds of internet relevancy.

Oskar gives in way too easily. “Fine. But if we lose, it’s on you.”

“How about I promise to make sure you’re relaxed before you get to the game?”

“Before?”

“We’ll hire a car with a privacy partition.”

“And like that, I’m suddenly on board.”

“Of course you are.” I laugh, and it takes a second for me to notice Oskar watching me. “What?”

He pulls his stare away. “Nothing.”

“Well, that sounded like a lie.”

He nods back at the screen. “All of that seems so phony though. Our fans know I don’t do this shit. It’ll be transparent as fuck that I’m only going through with these things to make the team look good.”

“Yeah, no one will doubt that. But you know what the point of this is?”

“What?”

“We’ll keep you way too busy to have a chance to fuck up. Then if you’re not fucking up anymore, they’ll have nothing to talk about. Suddenly this ‘phony shit’ to create a positive image is real because you don’t have time for anything else.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He shoots me another odd look, then stands. “Email that through to me. I’m going to go shower.”

Then Oskar leaves, and I know something is up.

Because I’m pretty sure that’s the first conversation we’ve ever had where he didn’t hit on me. And I’m not at all paranoid that now I’ve given him what he wants that he’s lost interest.

I mean, I knew it would happen eventually.

I just didn’t expect it to hit so soon.