Shameless Puckboy (Puckboys Book 3)

THERE IS nothing more frustrating than knowing something could easily be fixed, yet no one is fucking doing it.

“I need to stop coming to games,” I say from my cushy seat in the corporate box.

Ever since my injury, the team has been on a losing streak, and all I want to do is get back out there, but I’m not allowed.

Which is stupid because I’m fine. But then all the doctors have to say is if my wound tears, it could do damage to my eye because it’s so close, and I retreat back into my injured reserve list hole. One close call with early retirement was too much for me.

The only thing keeping me borderline sane is that I’m healed enough to have sex again, provided we don’t turn our bedroom activities into an extreme sport.

But that doesn’t stop the frustration bubbling up inside. When Forsyth lets a Dallas forward past him without so much as an attempt at blocking or stripping the puck, I get out of my seat and yell, “Where’s our defense? Come on!”

Lane pulls me back down into my seat. “There are sponsors here who pay a lot of money to get their logo plastered all over our arena. You might want to at least try to look like you have confidence in the team.”

I scoff. “If anyone said we were playing great this week, I’d ask what drugs they’re on and can I have some. We only had to win half our games. Half. And since then, we’ve won none. Which means, if we don’t pull a win out of our ass soon, we’re going to have to win every game from now until the end of the season. Do you know how much pressure that is? And do you know how frustrated I am that I can’t get down there and put this in the bag for us?”

The buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the second period and the score 4-2 to Dallas.

“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter.

Lane glances around the corporate box and then stands, grabbing my hand and pulling me with him.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“Somewhere where you can let out your frustrations without pissing off corporate sponsors.”

My dick perks up at that. “Blow off steam? And where exactly do you propose we do that?”

“I got an idea while we were in Chicago, but it’s risky. Especially when we only have fifteen minutes.”

“Intriguing … Will I get to touch you this time?”

He’s been reluctant to let me do anything because of my face, but it’s been almost a week, and it’s looking better by the day. My surface stitches have been taken out and the ones beneath the skin should have started to dissolve by now.

“Even better, I was hoping you’d do all the work.” Lane pulls me to the end of the hall to the emergency exit and down one flight of stairs.

When we get to a door, he knocks twice, but when no one answers, he uses his security pass to open up.

He lets me in first and closes the door behind him, and I take in the DJ booth and the glass windows that overlook the rink and the crowd.

“Are you sure you brought me to the right place?” I turn back to see him leaning against the side wall with his suit pants around his ankles and his underwear sitting under his tight, round ass. He has his jacket off and shirt lifted up so his hole is on full display.

“I’ve been tracking Roe’s movements. He leaves the booth during intermission for anywhere between twelve to fourteen minutes, hitting play on a playlist while he has a snack and goes to the bathroom. If you want to take my ass, suit up and take it while staring at the crowd out there.” He holds up a condom. “I’m all ready for you.”

I’m … speechless. “How are you real?” He’s perfect for me.

“What?” He looks over his shoulder at me. “We really don’t have time to get philosophical. Are you going to fuck me or not?”

I’m torn because the new me, the one who is open to whatever it is Lane and I are doing, the one who actually cares what happens to Lane’s job, the one who is wanting more than sex, is telling me I should say no. The inner caveman sex fiend is screaming at me to do this.

Having sex in front of a full arena? That’s … like ultimate fantasy.

“Oskar?” The need in Lane’s voice is what makes me break.

“Screw it.” I go for my belt and fly, undoing my pants as I walk toward him and take the condom wrapper and open it. While I get that rolled down my cock, I lean in close to Lane’s ear and whisper, “If we get caught, this is on you.”

“All on me. I’m already prepped for you.”

Testing that out, I sink two fingers inside him. His slick hole sucks me deep, and I buzz at the thought of taking him here. “You planned for this?”

“Well, yes. For days now. I was hoping to do this after the game while people were clearing out because Roe needs to be back before the break ends, but you looked like you were going to lose your head back there. So, plan B and quickie it is.”

“Lane … I …” I can’t believe he’d do this for me.

“You can tell me how awesome I am later. I need you to fuck me and fuck me fast.”

I pull my fingers out of him and replace them with my cock, both of us letting out a loud breath of relief. But it’s not enough.

His ass holds me tight, and when I move even the tiniest bit, ripples of pleasure shoot down my spine.

“Look out there. At all the people in the stands,” he says breathlessly. “None of them can see through the glass, but imagine if they could. They could see your long, muscular frame thrusting inside me while I’m bent over and taking everything you’re giving.”

I pull out to the tip, only to push deep inside him again.

“Maybe the DJ left the mic on, and they can hear the sounds in here. All the moans you give when you’re close. The slapping of our bodies meeting over and over again. The sound of sex filling the arena.”

Holy shit. I’ve never been this close to the edge so soon, but I think that’s Lane’s intention. We need to be as fast as we can, and his words keep driving me closer and closer.

Even though I no longer have that need to fuck publicly for the attention, the fantasy of it is still hot. If I’d known I could get this type of rush from safe public sex, I wouldn’t have needed Lane to babysit me at all.

But then, we never would have happened, so I wouldn’t change a thing. Because even though what’s going on between us doesn’t have an official definition, there’s no denying that Lane has changed my life for the better.

He didn’t want to change who I was. He could tell from the beginning that my front was all an act. He just wanted to rein in that fake behavior and have me be myself. He has given me what I want while managing to keep my private life private. And after years of having my sex life splashed all over the tabloids, I didn’t think it was possible to be a private person.

I have to laugh at myself because I am literally dicking out my PR manager in front of seventeen thousand unknowing people. So much for being a private person. But the point is, Lane doesn’t force me to be anyone I’m not. He’s shown me that my old motto of any attention is better than no attention at all isn’t healthy and that I don’t need to do that. Because he gives me what I want. What I need. And I don’t have to do anything for his affection.

He gives it freely. He gives his support. And right now, he’s giving all of him to me.

I slam inside him, over and over again, loving the heat surrounding my cock and only wanting more. At the same time, I want to slow down and savor this, but I know I can’t.

The DJ could be back at any moment. The rest of the game will start.

“Oskar, I’m close.”

I take my gaze off the crowd and see Lane jerking himself off hard and fast while I pound his ass.

“Where are you going to come?” I ask.

“Where do you want it? You want me to hold out until you’ve come and then get on your knees for me?”

“Mm, I was more thinking I want you to come in your underwear so that for the rest of the night, all that discomfort you feel will be because of me. Every time you squirm, it will be because I made you come.”

“Fuck!” he hisses and then tenses. His ass tightens around my cock, triggering my own orgasm, and I grunt my release as it fills the condom.

My hips begin to move slower, my thrusts becoming infrequent and more gentle until I finally slump against his back, but he doesn’t let me fully recover.

He elbows me to move, and as soon as I’m free of him, he bends to pull his pants back up and hold his jacket over his front. Which he’ll have to do for the rest of the night with his underwear full of cum.

I’m slower to pull my pants up, and then I realize … “Shit. Where do I get rid of the condom?”

As I ask, the sound of the door opening has me scrambling to get my dick away.

Roe enters and pulls back at us standing in his office space. “Uh …”

Lane backhands my chest. “See, Voyjik? It’s the same view as the corporate box. One level doesn’t make a difference.” He shakes his head. “Hockey players. Can’t tell them anything once they get an idea in their thick heads.”

Roe nods. “Right. Uh … sure.”

“Sorry to interrupt. You better get back to it.” Lane’s overly bubbly tone doesn’t match his usual demeanor, so I don’t know if Roe is confused because we’re in here at all or because Lane is being nice.

We get back into the hall, and as if holding our breaths together, we both burst into laughter as soon as we’re in the clear.

“That was too close,” Lane says.

“Even for me.”

Lane steps closer to me, almost chest to chest, and then he reaches up and pats my cheek. “But was it worth it?”

How do I tell him that what he just gave me is worth everything?

“More than worth it. It was … indescribable.”

He steps back and gestures toward my crotch. “You better go deal with that.”

“And you better not deal with yours.”

Lane smiles up at me. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”