Page 46 of Not the Puck Bunny

My sausage cheered. My meatballs might have joined in.

I stroked the back of my hand down her smooth, damp cheek. Wiped away tears and brushed back her hair. “I was worried about you. When I saw youup there and realized you couldn't breathe, I couldn't breathe either. I couldn't do anything but watch. I've never felt so fucking helpless in my life.”

She leaned into my hand. “I don't think I have either.”

“You're not referring to the choking, are you?” I asked gently.

“I am, but not only that,” she replied. “When I was looking back at myself, with a mouthful of sausage, I realized I'd always be under the microscope. As long as I'm involved with the team, and while people think we're together, people are going to talk, and watch, and take photos and videos, and who knows what else. Everything I do is going to come under scrutiny because I'm a woman. Everything I do for the team, people will claim it's wrong, that I don't know what I'm doing. Some of the time, that'll be right, but the rest of the time I'll be acting on advice from those who know, or my own business experience. They think I'm going to fuck this up, but I'm not.”

“Of course you're not,” I said. “Haven't I been trying to tell you that? Maybe I haven't done a good enough job.”

“You might have, but I need to tell it to myself,” she said. “Because I need faith in myself to get pastall the things people are going to say. I need to be able to stand on my own two feet.”

“What are you saying?” Why was my heart suddenly in my throat?

“I'm saying that I'm done taking on board all the things people think they know about me,” she said. “I'm done listening to opinions that don't matter. I'm done letting gossip and rumors and innuendos make decisions for me. If the Internet wants to talk about me, let them. If they want to suggest I like to practice giving blowjobs to sausages, I don't give a shit anymore. I'm going to do my job and live my life the way I want to.”

She looked over at me. Her eyes glittered in the light of dozens of streetlights. “I'm done fighting the way I feel about you. I care about you, Cam. A lot. If people have a problem with that, that's their problem. Not mine, not yours, not ours.”

My heart felt like it was sliding across the ice. Heading straight for the basket. With no goalie there to stop it from sliding straight on in.

“I care about you too, Andi Welling,” I whispered. “Welcome to the world of not giving a shit about what social media says. I'm sure my sister Alice will have a lot to say about it to both of us. Probablysomething along the lines of taking control of the narrative.”

“That sounds about right,” Andi said reluctantly. “I guess I'll have to come out and admit I like to eat sausages.”

My balls were suddenly twice as heavy.

I grinned. “I can see a hotdog eating session in my future. Possibly with the whole team.” That was very much something Alice would suggest. Reminding people that there was no need to sexualize eating anything. Except pussy, which I very much wanted to taste right now.

I leaned in and brushed my lips over Andi's.

“You should be downstairs, playing,” she said against my mouth.

I slid my hand higher up her thigh. “If you insist.”

She laughed. “That wasn't what I meant.” But she wasn't pushing me away either.

I took the plate from her and set it aside before wrapping my arms around her and pulling her until she was straddling my lap, facing me. My steadily growing erection was nestled right between the juncture of her thighs.

“I don't think Coach is expecting me back toosoon.” I rolled my hips, rubbing my cock against her pussy, only our clothes between us.

“What is the boss expecting?” Her voice was already breathless. She pressed herself against me, grinding lightly.

“To feel good,” I said firmly. I kissed her again, more deeply this time, my hand on the back of her head, fingers tangled in her glorious hair. “You deserve to feel good.”

“You make me feel good.” Her hands were pressed against my chest, one right over my heart.

I slid one of my hands up the front of her sweater—blue this time, with the Sea Dragons logo, Ceecee on the front—and rubbed my thumb over her pebbled nipple.

She moaned softly. “Cam… If you keep doing that I'm going to…"

“Do it,” I whispered. “Come for me. I want to hear you.”

“Cam,” she whimpered my name and ground herself harder against me. “Oh my goodness, I?—"

She came apart right there, in my lap, rubbing her clit against my hardened cock. Her breath was a series of tiny little gasps and moans that were almost enough to make me lose my load in my shorts.

I barely managed to hang on until she was done,before rubbing her nipple a couple more times and kissing her delicious mouth.

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