Thoroughly Pucked (My Hockey Romance #3) Read Online Lauren Blakely

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: My Hockey Romance Series by Lauren Blakely
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Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
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“She’s already so fucking wet for us,” I say to Ledger, who seems to be getting high on her scent.

Then he stuffs the panties in his pocket, moves behind Aubrey, and palms her ass. “Because she loves it when we play with her.”

“I do,” she says breathily as I stroke her slick heat.

“I missed this mouth,” I say, then kiss those lush lips. Her taste goes to my head. Lip gloss and mint. Her desire goes to my dick as I coast my fingers through her wetness.

It’s too much and never enough. I’m so high on her in seconds. I break the kiss, drinking in her lust-struck expression. “I missed the way you look when you get so worked up for us,” I say.

“Missed you two touching me, looking at me, toying with me,” she rasps out, rocking her pussy into my fingers then arching her ass against his hands.

Back and forth, him and me.

“That’s our girl. Needing her men to get her off,” I say.

Ledger dips his face to her neck, murmuring, “You deserve double the pleasure, honey. You give so much of yourself to us.”

“I want you both to have me,” she murmurs as she seeks her pleasure, rocking faster against my fingers, her mouth parting, her head falling back. “I need you both.”

“I fucking know you do,” Ledger says, coaxing her along.

“And we need you, sweet thing.” I brush my lips over hers, hungry for her. “Need you so much.”

She moves, fearlessly, freely between the two of us. Making it crystal clear she missed this, missed us—what we give her together.

“Let’s remind our girl how good we can be to her,” I say to Ledger, but the message is for Aubrey.

Everything’s for Aubrey as I slide my fingers across her clit until she breaks apart in my arms. Then, as she’s gasping, Ledger moves around her, gets down on his knees, and pushes her against the wall. She’s grabbing his face, dragging him against her pussy as she tips her chin toward me, begging for a kiss.

I move in next to her, kiss her face, her jaw, her hair while he wrings another orgasm from her in mere minutes. When she comes down, she’s gasping and moaning, then smiling as she whispers, “I’ve missed you so much.”

I look her in the eyes. “Good.” Then I cup her jaw, tug her to me. “Now say it.”

Her brow knits. “Say what?”

“What you said when they scored a touchdown. Say it for us.”

With a loopy smile, she murmurs, “Yes, baby.”

“That’ll do,” Ledger says, and we leave.

We make our way to my car in the nearby parking lot, when a whimpering in the alley catches my attention. Then a scrabbling of paws.

A second later, we reach the source of the noise. A little black-and-white pup is pawing at an empty carton of takeout food. He’s not wearing a collar, and he’s skinny and dirty.

When he turns to us, he looks hungry and hopeful.

56

THE THIRD MAN

Aubrey

“I’m soaking wet!” Ledger shouts, but there’s laughter in his voice, booming through my little apartment.

“Well, yeah. Dogs shake,” I say.

“That’s clear,” he says, then peels off his shirt.

Mmm. Nice. I shamelessly stare at his sturdy chest while keeping my hands on the wiggly, wet body in the tub. “And I don’t mind that dogs shake,” I say.

“I’d strip, too, if I wasn’t busy helping this little dude be presentable,” Dev says. He’s kneeling on the floor of my tiny bathroom, scrunched in front of the world’s smallest tub, giving this puppy a bath.

I snap my focus back to the critter.

As I spray the nozzle over the wily guy, who’s maybe fifteen pounds, Dev scrubs some more of my cruelty-free tropical paradise shampoo into the pup’s short-haired coat. The dog was more black and gray when we found him. Now he’s gleaming.

But he’s no fan of getting clean. The little guy whines, then rears up on his back paws, hell-bent on scrambling out of the tub. His black-and-white legs reach the edge, then he hoists himself up and onto Dev’s chest.

The goalie wraps his arms around the sopping wet, soaped-up mutt of all mutts, and hugs the busy boy. “It’s all right. I’ve got you.”

Deep, but soft. Commanding, but caring.

There goes my heart. It thunders as the burly, bearded man embraces the homeless dog and then gently sets him back in the tub. “Let’s just get you rinsed off,” he says to the new guy, and I’m almost too fluttery to focus on the task.

But I manage, spraying the dog till he’s spick and span and both Dev and I are as waterlogged as Ledger. My sweater is dripping. Dev’s burgundy Henley is sticking to his pecs and abs.

When I turn off the water, Ledger snort-laughs at the two of us. “Join the club,” he says, then holds out his arms with a towel draped across them. Dev hands him the dog and Ledger wraps the dry, fluffy towel around the canine. “There you go, buddy,” Ledger coos.


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