Page 1 of Puck Me With Your Best Shot
Prologue - Kameron
Six Months Ago
“Idon’t know, Kendall.Do you really think it’s a good idea to marry some guy you barely know?” I say into the phone, cradling it between my cheek and shoulder while I grab my keys from my purse, ready to take a hot shower and wash away the stiffness from standing for so long inthe operating room. It might only have been a light case load and only half a day, but it felt like an eternity.
When Greg and I first saw this place, he immediately fell in love with its stunning view of the city skyline, which only a penthouse apartment can provide. He wouldn’t listen when I told him it was too far from the hospital where we both work.
As a psychiatrist, he can set his own hours and even work from home. Meanwhile, I, on the other hand, don’t have that luxury. Unlike Greg, my job as a Nurse Practitioner in a busy sports medicine practice keeps me on my feet all day, making rounds and assisting with surgeries.
It’s not the job I expected—I wanted more hands-on experience with awake patients, not ones under anesthesia or heavily medicated for pain. Still, the job pays well, which I need to cover my share of an apartment I can’t even enjoy.
Most nights, I spend a few hours sleeping in one of the physician call rooms instead of driving forty-five minutes to our apartment, only to turn around five hours later to start all over again.
Greg says he doesn’t mind me not being home at night, but the long hours and commute are starting to wear me down. I’ve begun looking for a different job — something I would actually enjoy.
I had an online interview with the general manager of the Iowa Poseidon Pro Hockey team two days ago. He offered me a job asthe team’s lead medical advisor, but I told him I needed a few days to consider his offer.
Greg is going to flip out when I tell him I’m ready for a change. Maybe it’s time for more than just switching jobs. Greg and I haven’t been intimate for over a year now. Neither of us has taken the initiative, not even a kiss, in the last twelve months.
“Chaz isn’t just some guy. He’s the guy.” My baby sister, Kendall, gives a dreamy sigh into the phone, clearly delusional about some guy she barely knows.
I adore my little sister—I truly do. But she always reacts this way whenever she falls for a guy. I’ve seen this behavior for the past eight years, ever since she had her first crush on our neighbor Johnny Henderson. Even though there's a ten-year gap between us, Kendall always confides in me. But most days, I feel more like her mother than her older sister.
“I’m just saying, maybe you should slow down and get to know him a little better before you make such a big decision. Maybe even take some time for yourself.” I glance at my front door, wondering if I should take my own advice. Moving to a new job in a new city and making a clean break from Greg is probably for the best.
“This time is different. This time, I know Chaz is the one.” The pleading tone in her voice always gets to me. Maybe this time will be different for my baby sister and her love life.
Chaz.
I’m not sure I'll be able to keep a straight face as I call my new brother-in-law, Chaz.
Unlocking my front door, I step into the living room and see piles of men’s clothing scattered all over the apartment. Upon closer inspection, I don’t recognize the silk leopard-print boxer shorts hanging on the antique lamp my grandparents gave us as a housewarming gift. Or the dark gray, sleeveless muscle shirt, dangling from the back of my favorite recliner.
What the hell is going on? Greg would never wear any of this stuff. And why is it scattered all over my apartment? Greg’s a neat freak--he doesn’t even let me set my drink on the coffee table without a coaster.
The sound of a deep male voice grunting from our bedroom snaps me out of any thoughts I have of the random clothing. It’s only the middle of the day, I can’t imagine what Greg might be doing in our bedroom, making that noise. Or maybe I can, since it’s been so long, I sometimes get myself off in the shower, which was the plan today.
“Kendall, something came up. I need to go. I’ll talk to you later.” I don’t give her a chance to tell me goodbye before I end the call and throw my phone on the coffee table.
Not sure if I want to disturb him because I definitely don’t want to join him, but knowing I need to walk through our bedroom to get to the shower and change of clothes, I call out to him. “Greg, are you in there?” I ask, heading closer to the shut bedroom door.
“Mmm.” I hear him moan, which makes me pause with my hand on the doorknob.
Do I really want to interrupt his alone time?
Still undecided, I twist the doorknob and push open the door and come face to face with my boyfriend in the middle of a three-way, and not the kind you would expect. Greg is the meat in an all-male sandwich taking a cock in his mouth and one in his ass.
“You’re such a good boy.” The large, muscular man, pounding into Greg from behind says slapping his ass, thrusting deeper into him, causing him to moan louder around the equally as large guy stuffing Greg’s throat with his shaft.
The man in front of Greg looks up, making eye contact with me, and gives me a wink. “You want to join in, honey? Jake and I go both ways, and I bet your tighter then this twink’s ass.”
Greg growls possessively around the length, sliding in and out of his mouth. Unfortunately, his possessive growl isn’t aimed at me, but at the two guys ramming him from all directions.
“Fuck no.” I cringe, taking a step backward as I consider pinching myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. Even though I know I would never dream of anything like my boyfriend getting railed by two dudes.
“Suit yourself.” The guy shrugs his shoulders, but not before giving me another wink, and grips the back of Greg’s head, shoving him hard on his shaft until Greg’s mouth is flush withthe guy’s balls and he’s gasping for air, drool running out of his mouth and down his chin.
Greg begins to squirm, fighting for oxygen, only to have his head held tighter in place as the guy behind him grabs his hips and pumps faster into his hole, grinding his hips with every thrust.
