Home>>read Forever Pucked free online

Forever Pucked(42)

By:Helena Hunting


"Slower than he'd like." He's only been able to start light workouts in  the past week, but it's been limited to lower body and he wants to do  more than he should.

"Darren says he's pushing himself hard."

"He's used to minor injuries. Logically he knows he won't play again  this season, but it's really eating at him that he's not going to be on  the ice during playoffs."

Charlene nods. "It's been a hard season for the team."

"It really has. He's also been worried about what next season is going  to look like. It'll take the entire summer for him to recondition his  shoulder." I bite my nail, but stop before I ruin my manicure. "He  thinks Randy's going to take his position as primary center."                       
       
           



       

"I don't know about that."

"Randy's really stepped it up since Alex has been out." I feel like a traitor saying it out loud.

"That doesn't mean they're going to hand him Alex's spot."

"I know, but he's concerned about it. If he isn't planning our wedding,  he's watching the games on repeat. He makes notes on Randy's moves, but  if I ask he plays it off like he's just staying on top of things."

"He's so competitive."

"He really is. And he's hyper-aware that he's getting older. There  aren't a whole lot of players who make it much past thirty. Alex is  afraid this injury could speed up his retirement." I scratch my wrist.  I've already taken an antihistamine. I can't go home with hives.

"He has a plan for what he wants to do after his hockey career is over, though, right?"

"Oh, he sure does. He wants to get me pregnant so I can birth his next hockey team."

Charlene barks out a laugh. "You and Alex will have pretty hockey  babies. Let's hope they have his coordination; otherwise they'll be  well-read accountants."

"Amen to that. It'd be nice to have kids whose GPAs aren't thrown off by  crappy marks in phys ed. You know, if they had a class in like, Tai Chi  or something, I might've had a hope in hell of getting a legitimate,  solid B."

"Instead your boobs got it for you."

"Gotta love the perks of perky boobs. I'll be sad when mine start sagging."

"Shh!" Charlene cups one of hers. "Don't talk about things like that.  Besides, you'll be able to afford to have the girls lifted if you're  desperate to defy gravity."

"So true. But this whole marrying a hockey player thing is way more complicated than I ever imagined."

"At least you've found the love of your life. You'll work through all the hard parts."

"He really is amazing. I can deal with the complications if it means spending the rest of my life with him."

Speaking of hard parts, I'm looking forward to jumping on Alex's when I  get home. My nails aren't the only thing I had decorated this afternoon.

-&-

Extra-loud music greets me when I open the door, as does the smell of  bacon and pancakes. I've discovered Alex likes to cook, and he's good at  it. Being out for the rest of the season means he's less restrictive  about his diet, too, so it's not all whole-grain this and high-fiber  that.

I find him in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove making  pancakes. In his boxer briefs. His Super MC boxer briefs. On the back it  says Violet's ASS. On the front is a Superman-style logo with MC in the  middle instead of an S.

His hair is wet. It's still longer than usual these days, curling around  his ears. I observe him for a minute, since he's still unaware that I'm  home thanks to the music blasting through the speakers. This isn't  Alex's usual music choice. I listen to the lyrics as I stare at his  ass-his super-tight ass, enveloped in red cotton.

I realize I know this song. It's from my favorite movie, and it's about  Oreos. Actually it's about beaver licking, and it's super dirty. Alex  busts out when the chorus comes on and shakes his ass a little. It's  awesome. And cute, and kind of sexy.

It isn't until he flips the pancakes that I realize his arm isn't in a  sling, and his ribs aren't taped. The bruises are gone, apart from a few  yellowish spots on his shoulder and legs.

"What's going on here?"

Alex startles and looks over his shoulder. "Oh, hey. I didn't hear you  come in." He grabs the remote from the counter and turns the volume  down.

"You're not wearing your sling."

I drop my purse on the counter and come up behind him. Snaking an arm  around his waist, I press my boobs against his back. His skin is warm,  and he smells like my favorite body wash.

"That's what I wanted to tell you! Doc gave me the all clear. No more sling."

It's been over a month since the accident, but the doctors projected at least six weeks before he'd be out of a sling. "Really?"

Alex moves the pan off the burner and turns around so my boobs are  pressed against his abs instead of his back. And now his snuffie is  pressed against my stomach.

He tucks my hair behind my ear with the hand attached to the injured arm  and shoulder. "Really. And it looks like there isn't any negative  residual impact from the concussion either."

I hug him tightly, relieved. More than the broken body parts and obvious  physical wounds, this was the part we were most anxious about. "That's  awesome news. Doesn't this mean you're ahead of what the doctors  projected?"                       
       
           



       

"Yeah, by almost two weeks. The doctor said I can start a modified workout schedule to rehabilitate my arm."

"That's so good, Alex."

"I think so, too. I'm looking forward to having my stamina back." He shifts his hips so I can feel him growing.

"I love your stamina."

He skims my arms with his fingertips, unhooking my hands from around his  waist so he can see my fingernails. "You have a good time with the  girls?" It's a French manicure except for my index fingers. Those are  painted white with the Super MC logo nail stickers I had made for shits  and giggles.

"We had fun like we always do."

He kisses the back of my hand. "I like these."

"I thought you might."

Alex has a weird fixation with nice nails. He's definitely mostly hard now.

"You get anything else done today?" He kisses the tip of every finger.

"My toes."

"Oh yeah? Is that all? You were gone most of the day." Alex bites my pinkie.

"Nope."

"What else did you have done?"

I shrug. "Just the usual."

"The usual?"

"You know, waxing, plucking, that kind of thing."

"Does that mean you're too sensitive?"

"Too sensitive for what?" I pretend like I don't know what he's talking about; obviously he means his dick, because it's hard.

"What do you think?" Alex runs his hands down my sides, then reaches around and palms my ass, pulling me tighter against him.

"What about the pancakes?"

"They'll stay warm in the oven."

"Wanna go upstairs?"

"Not really." Alex pulls my shirt over my head. He doesn't bother to do  any pre-bra-removal nuzzling; he flicks the clasp and bites his lip as  the straps fall and my nipples appear.

He sighs and cups my boobs.

"You know what I've really missed?" Alex walks me backward until my butt  hits the island. Then he lifts me by the waist and sets me on the  counter.

"What's that?"

"Being able to use both hands on you at the same time."

He cups my boobs again and bows his head, pushing his face into my cleavage. "And my mouth."

The stitches across the bridge of his nose came out two weeks ago, and  the scar isn't as bad as I expected it to be, thanks to the plastic  surgeon. The scar fits in with the slight bump from his nose being  broken more than once.

I run my hands through his hair and over his shoulders. The muscles in  his back flex with my touch, and his deep groan vibrates through my  body.

Ever since the accident, Alex has been understandably frustrated by the  restrictions and limitations. His inability to take control of things  has been a source of angst and irritation. I tried to do what I could to  make it easier for him, but I don't think I realized how much it  impacted his sex drive until now. Because when he lifts his head, the  look on his face is eerily similar to the one he wore when he fucked me  against the lockers at the arena.

Or the time he fucked me against the wall when I lived, however briefly,  in that apartment building. My beaver perks right up, getting nice and  drooly in preparation for what I'm thinking is going to be a seriously  kickass sex session on our kitchen island.

Alex threads his fingers through my hair and kisses along my throat and  over my chin. He backs up enough so I can look him in the eyes, though  he's still holding my hair. His eyes roam my face. God, he looks  intense. And totally in control. Oh, Christ, I think my man is back.