The Pucking Wrong Number: A Hockey Romance (The Pucking Wrong Series Book 1)
The Pucking Wrong Number: Chapter 20

Lincoln was back to his normal self when I joined him in the kitchen, as though the weight of his words on the balcony had never happened.

I didn’t press him on it. I knew better than most that gashes in the heart needed to be treated with care.

And I had no desire to reveal any of my own secrets–at least the ones he couldn’t possibly know about.

Lincoln heaped a mountain of food onto a plate and slid it over to me.

“I love you,” I breathed, my eyes locked onto the delicious feast in front of me…before realizing exactly what I’d just said.

I gaped at him in horror, and I shook my head frantically, trying to take my words back. But Lincoln’s cocky grin only grew wider.

“I love the food, I meant! The food!”

“Knew you’d say it first, dream girl,” he teased.

I groaned, wishing the ground would swallow me whole, but a second later, I was digging in…because, well, food. Duh.

He slipped onto the barstool beside where I was standing and patted his lap. ‘Come here,” he murmured.

My face turned red as I brushed my hair out of my eyes, suddenly feeling self-conscious. ‘I can get my own seat,’ I protested.

He smiled slyly. ‘I’m aware. But I’d much rather be your seat.’

I hesitated for a moment, but then his golden gaze drew me in, again, and before I knew it, I found myself sliding onto his lap.

“Oh,” I murmured, realizing he was…hard.

This was going to be an interesting dinner.

“Just ignore it,” he said casually. “It’s been an ongoing problem since meeting you.”

I stuffed a bite of orange chicken into my mouth before I could say something else awkward.

Dinner had indeed been interesting. He’d insisted on feeding me for half the meal, and I didn’t know what it said about me, but I’d fucking loved it. I bloomed under his attention, my pathetic self soaking up everything he offered like a flower under the sun.

Now I was curled up on the comfiest couch I’d ever been on, in the fanciest room I’d ever seen, surrounded by books and notes, trying to work on my paper. But, I could feel his hot gaze on me constantly, making me squirm. It didn’t help that Lincoln had changed into gray sweatpants, and I was feeling very…thirsty at that moment. The fabric hung low on his hips, and every time he shifted, those delicious abs of his made an appearance. Those sweatpants should be illegal, because he was making my growing addiction even worse. And my thoughts were definitely not on my English paper.

They were on the anaconda sized dick outlined in his pants.

I sighed, grinning over at him. ‘You’re distracting me.’

He smirked, shaking his head. ‘You always distract me, dream girl,’ he replied, his eyes lingering on me a little longer than necessary.

I rolled my eyes, focusing back on my work. ‘What game is that from?’ I asked a minute later, gesturing towards the recording playing on the TV when I realized he was still staring at me.

‘Just some film from the last time we played Chicago,’ he answered. “They’re the only team to beat us twice this year, and it’s looking like they’ll be up in the first round of the playoffs, so I’m trying to figure out everything we did wrong.” He turned his attention back to the screen.

Thirty minutes passed, and I’d finally gotten in the zone of the assignment, when I felt Lincoln’s gaze on me again.

I glanced over at him.

“What’s your major?” he asked, sounding perturbed there was something about me he didn’t know.

I bit my lip, trying to decide what to say. He watched me, his eyes soft as he waited for my answer.

I finally cleared my throat, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny. ‘Umm, I don’t really know yet.’

His brows furrowed slightly. ‘What do you mean you don’t know? You’re a sophomore, right?’

I shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. ‘I should be. But with how much I work, I haven’t been able to take as many credits as I’m supposed to. I’m on the ten year plan at this rate,” I tried to joke, even though I hated that. “I’m hoping it magically comes to me about what major to choose. I’ve never really had the luxury of thinking about that kind of stuff before,’ I explained. ‘It was always just about getting through the day, surviving, you know?’

Lincoln nodded thoughtfully, his expression pensive. ‘Yeah, I can understand that. But now that you’re here, with a chance to do whatever your heart desires…what do you want?’

I bit my lip, feeling a strange mix of emotions. I wasn’t sure he really understood. As far as I knew, he’d grown up in a mansion, everything he could ever want at his beck and call. But I loved that he at least wasn’t judging me for what I’d said.

I had never really allowed myself to dream or imagine a different life for myself. It was almost too scary to think about. But as I sat there, staring at the blank screen in front of me, I knew that I couldn’t keep putting it off forever.

‘I don’t know,’ I admitted quietly. ‘I mean, I’ve always loved reading and writing, but I don’t know if that’s something I could actually do for a career. It just seems like such a far-off dream, you know? And I don’t want to ever worry about having a roof over my head, or grocery shopping. I don’t care about being rich, but I want to be secure.’

As soon as the words came out, I was alarmed at how easily I’d said them. I’d always been guarded, but with him, it felt like the walls were crumbling down with barely any effort on his part. I found myself sharing things I’d never even admitted to myself before.

He just seemed so genuinely interested in everything that came out of my mouth. No one had ever looked at me and really wanted to see more.

He was casting a spell on me, wrapping himself around my heart. And it was both exhilarating and fucking terrifying.

Every second with him was making it harder and harder to resist.

Lincoln smiled reassuringly at me, reaching over to stroke my cheek gently. ‘Everything starts with a dream, baby. And now you have me to make sure it all happens.’

I wanted to scream then, tell him to stop making promises that would devastate me after he decided he was done. But instead, I found myself smiling back at him, a warmth spreading through my chest that pulled on the residual cold my memories always kept around.

He was about to say something else when his phone buzzed on the couch next to me, interrupting our conversation. And when I glanced down, my heart sank at the sight of a woman’s enormous breasts on the screen.

It took me a second to actually process what I was seeing, but Lincoln was already reaching for the phone, his lips pressed into a thin, tight line as his jaw clenched.

‘What the hell?’ he muttered under his breath, quickly deleting the picture and blocking the number it had come from, and setting his phone face-down on the couch. He peered up at me, his eyes dark with emotion. ‘That’s not what you think. Sometimes people get a hold of my number…and I guess that’s their play. I have to change my number all the fucking time.” His voice was low and serious, his gaze pleading as he stared at me.

“So you didn’t know her?’ I pressed, hating how angry and jealous I sounded.

He smiled gently, once again seeming pleased by my raging emotions.

“Well, those were just her boobs, so I can’t be sure, but no, I don’t think those boobs belong to anyone I’ve ever met before.”

He was trying to joke with me, but my green-eyed monster was out of control. I never would have expected this to be me.

I started gathering my stuff.

“Hey,” he said, an edge of panic laced in his voice. “What are you doing?”

“It’s getting late. I need to get back home. I have to work early and all that.”

He sat for a second in silence, and I didn’t dare look at him.

“You’re really upset,” he finally muttered, as if it was just sinking in.

I chewed on my lip, shame turning in my stomach with how easily I’d let my jealousy take control. “I’m sorry. It’s not like I have any claim on you or anything.”

He tilted his head, his eyes searching my face. “Are you really saying that?”

I rolled my eyes, trying to cover my sudden nervousness. “Of course I am. This is our second date—if I should even be calling it that.”

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Alright, this is going to fucking end right now.”

My breath caught in my throat, and the tears were immediate. Fuck. How had this night gone so far out of control?

I stood up from the couch, but before I could go anywhere, he scooped me up, his strong arms enveloping me. I barely had time to process what was happening before we were walking down a hallway that wasn’t part of the earlier tour, and into what was obviously his bedroom.

He threw me on the bed, and I froze, breathless and unsure of what would happen next.

My heart was racing, my body trembling as I tried to process how we’d gotten here, with him standing before me like a dark and dangerous god.

I couldn’t even look at him, my eyes darting everywhere but at his face. I was a mess of emotions, my thoughts jumbled and scattered like leaves in the wind.

But even in my confusion and fear, I couldn’t ignore the way my body was responding to him. My skin was alive with electricity, my pulse racing with desire. He stood there, watching me with eyes that were more amber than honey at the moment, his intense gaze seeming to see everything. The heat of his stare was like a physical touch, and it made me want him even more.

For a moment, we just stayed like that, locked in a tense and charged silence. And then, without a word, he was on me, his lips claiming mine in a fierce and hungry kiss. All my fear and confusion melted away in an instant, replaced by a deep and aching need for him.

He suddenly ripped away from my lips, his chest heaving, his breath coming out in heavy gasps.

Lincoln took a step backwards until he was towering over me. He shook his head, his tattooed fingers raking through his tousled hair. Then his hand moved to the waistband of his sweatpants and he pulled it down, showcasing his hot, swollen, gigantic dick. His thick length was a dusky, silky expanse, textured by ridged veins. The gleaming head of his arousal was slick with his precum. It was a strange thought, because I’d never thought of dicks as attractive…but his was…beautiful.

What every woman was put on this earth to desperately crave.

Desire consumed me, a fierce ache that demanded to be sated. My center throbbed, slick and hungry, as I felt myself clenching in response.

I needed him.

“You think you don’t have a claim on me?” he finally growled, breaking the sex-fueled silence. “You think it’s possible for anyone else to exist now that I’ve found you?”

His tattooed hand slowly traveled his length, his thumb catching his arousal and bringing it to my mouth. I whimpered and parted my lips as he slid it inside, the salty taste my new favorite thing.

“Good girl,” he breathed.

My tongue swirled around his thumb, making sure to get every drop, and he slowly withdrew it.

“Look at me,” he ordered, and my eyes immediately snapped to his face. “No…look at me.”

My gaze trailed down his toned body until it landed on his dick that extended all the way to his abdomen.

And it was then that I noticed the dark black cursive script etched on the pink skin, the outline of the letters an angry red color that bordered a new tattoo.

“What?” I murmured, leaning forward so I could read it.

MONROE.

His cock was tattooed with my name.

My gaze snapped up to his smug, perfect face.

“Pretty obvious you don’t have anything to worry about, isn’t it?”

“When did you—?” My words trailed off…because, really, what did you say about a dick tattoo of your name?

“The second I knew you were real,” he commented casually. Like that was normal, everyday behavior.

“I—” I still couldn’t replace the words.

I traced the cursive letters with my gaze, emotion thick in my throat. It was like he had branded me as his own, claimed me in a way I’d never experienced before.

I was the girl who was never wanted, passed around like a burden from person to person, never feeling like I belonged anywhere. My mother hadn’t even wanted me. But strangely, seeing my name permanently etched onto his skin–his cock of all things–it filled a void inside of me that had always ached, a void left by all the years of abandonment and rejection.

I was suddenly starving.

I reached out my hand tentatively.

“Fuck yes, touch me. I’m desperate for it.” His voice was a pained, delicious growl, like gasoline on the fire that was already burning in my belly.

It was getting a little out of hand, the lust coursing through me. I was pretty sure I could come just from the sound of his voice at that point.

I leaned forward and worked my way down his stomach, placing light kisses and licks on every ripple of muscle. When I reached his sexy V, I lingered there, tracing his toned abs with my tongue.

He shivered under my touch, his breath coming out in sexy gasps.

I got to his impressive length, and I hesitated for a moment. I mean, the thing was massive, at least nine inches long. But the sight and scent of him had me so turned on, I couldn’t resist. My fingers trailed along the length of his throbbing cock, tracing the veins that pulsed beneath his skin. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the slickness of his arousal coating my fingertips. Lincoln was watching me intently, his eyes dark with desire. I squeezed it gently, my fingers not even coming close to touching, and another rush of slickness trickled out of the slit.

I couldn’t resist the urge to taste him any longer. He’d given me a sample before…and I wanted more. I leaned forward, letting my tongue flick out to touch the bead of moisture gathered at the tip of his cock. He groaned and thrust as I lapped at his crown. I’d always thought cum wouldn’t taste good, but his…I had a feeling it would become a non-stop craving.

I’d also thought I would hate this kind of thing, that I would feel demeaned…inferior. Now that I was older, I had distinct images of walking in on my mother in the act, and it had never been good.

But this was different. Lincoln was different. I wanted to make him lose control, to take what he wanted from me. The power I felt from making him a panting mess was heady…addictive even. I wanted to reward him for his gift to me.

Because that’s what his tattoo was…the best gift I’d ever been given.

He groaned, his head falling back as I explored him with my mouth. I took him deeper, my lips forming a tight seal around him as I sucked him carefully.

“Baby, just like that,” he moaned.

His words gave me confidence to experiment, and I teased him with my tongue, causing him to moan and pant, begging for more. I found an angle that I could handle and took him as deep as I could.

“Fuck, yes, sweetheart,” he praised as I sucked and pulled on him. “That’s so good, baby. So good…please, don’t stop.”

His hands gripped the back of my head, not forcing but not gentle either, urging me to take all of him. I tried opening my throat to accommodate his thrusts, but I gagged around his length.

“Take it all, Monroe. Just a little more. Choke on my cock.” His voice turned hard and demanding. I whimpered around his length, literally dripping wet between my legs from what we were doing.

“I want to fuck that perfect mouth. Will you let me, baby? Will you make me come?”

I moaned a response around his dick and he smoothed the hair back from my face.

With his guidance, I found a rhythm that had him on edge and my pussy flooding. He groaned and thrust in deeper, pushing at the back of my throat.

And with every stroke, I wanted him more.

His hand cupped my jaw, his thumb tracing the curve of my lower lip. My lips parted, and I tasted him, savoring the saltiness of his skin. My tongue teased, swirling around the head of his cock. A low groan rattled from him.

Then his hand slid to the back of my head, holding me in place as he fed me even more of his cock. He continued sliding in, steady and deep, until he hit the back of my throat.

‘Relax your throat, baby,’ he rasped softly. I took a deep breath and tried to relax as he pushed deeper, his cock sliding smoothly down. He groaned in pleasure, his head thrown back, his hands gripping my hair tightly as he held himself there.

‘Fuck.’ I moaned, my eyes rolling back as he moved in and out of my mouth, each thrust growing more urgent. ‘Yes,’ I gasped, my tongue swirling around him. ‘More, please.’

‘You like that, don’t you?’ he growled, his fingers tightening in my hair. I whimpered in response, the intensity of the pleasure sending me spiraling towards the edge.

My hand moved to touch myself, needing to come.

He pulled back, his hand stopping me. ‘Not yet, baby,’ he said, a devilish gleam in his gaze.

He withdrew leisurely, then slid back in, his hand still gripping my hair. The motion of his thrusts turned into a smooth and steady rhythm, a gentle pumping that had me wanting more. I could sense his gaze locked on me as he pushed deeper, his hard length disappearing down my throat.

‘That’s just perfect. You’re so damn good at this,’ he gasped.

A raw, desperate hunger took hold of me as he plunged into my mouth with a gentle ferocity. I wanted to be good at this for him. I wanted to give him everything. My fingers traveled up and down his flexing hips, firm thighs, and sculpted stomach, feeling the tremble of his muscles as he relentlessly pushed in. His pace quickened, a symphony of grunts and moans escaping his lips. The sight of him, lost in ecstasy, only fueled my desire.

“Fuck, you look so hot with my cock down your throat, dream girl,” he said, his voice rough with pleasure.

My hands grasped his firm ass, feeling the muscles flexing under my fingers. I urged him to quicken his pace, moaning hungrily as I sucked on his cock, my breaths coming out in desperate gasps.

I whimpered as he tugged at my hair, his hand tightening almost painfully. I loved the way he dominated me, took over so I didn’t have to think…I could lose myself in the feeling of him.

‘Oh, fuck. Suck it. Suck my cock,’ he urged, his voice low and rough with pleasure.

My cries grew louder as he pulled harder at my hair, his grunts and moans filling the room as his thrusts became more forceful.

“Fuck, you are perfect, aren’t you? You really love this. You love me fucking your mouth. You’re such a good fucking girl.” His movements faltered for a moment, his grip on my hair tightening as he lost himself in the pleasure. I didn’t get a warning before his hot seed burst into my mouth, and I swallowed as much as I could, savoring the taste of him. It spilled past my lips and onto my chin and chest. He leaned down, kissing me deeply, his tongue exploring my mouth, not giving a fuck that he was tasting himself. His thumb smeared his cum all over my skin.

“Hottest fucking thing. Ever,” he whispered, his breath hot against my lips.

Lincoln

I chased the taste of myself on her lips, not because I liked it, but because it meant she had a part of me inside her. She owned a part of me I could never get back. I wanted her to have whatever she wanted from me.

I also wanted her screaming with soul rendering pleasure. To scream my name to the heavens because I owned a part of her too.

“You taste so good,” she murmured, her eyes dreamy and unfocused.

I started to harden again…because she was covered in me, her lips swollen and wet.

I knew it would be like this with her. This all-encompassing madness that grew with every touch. I knew I was staring at her like a man possessed.

But I couldn’t help it.

I pulled her leggings down and my fingers immediately began to play, running through her sopping wet folds.

She cried out softly, her gaze pleading and desperate.

I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to push inside her and never leave.

But I knew she wasn’t there yet.

My tattoo may have helped her trust issues, but she was still on the cusp of running the moment she got spooked again. ‘You’re such a good girl, Monroe. I’m gonna make you come now. Make you feel as good as you made me,’ I murmured.

‘Linc,’ she whispered as I glided my fingers across her clit and gently pressed into her tight pussy. She whimpered, her eyes fluttering closed. My girl loved praise, needed it in fact, desperately.

‘Look at me,’ I snapped, desperate for that emerald gaze to stay on me, for her to understand that I was the only one who could ever make her feel this good. Her gaze locked onto mine, her clear, starry eyes radiating a soft, mesmerized glow that sent electric currents down my spine.

I almost had her. She may not have loved me yet, but she was already addicted to what I could make her feel.

I felt drunk under her attention. I wanted her to obsess over me, to think about me every second. Like I did her. Her lustrous ebony locks framed her delicate features, and she looked like a dark angel, sent from below to drag me down with her. My lips crashed against hers and I sucked on her tongue, pressing two more fingers inside of her as she writhed against me.

And then she came, her tight pussy choking my fingers.

Her cheeks took on a rosy glow.

“Good girl,” I murmured, watching as her whole body melted, like I’d discovered the secret password to her soul.

I cleaned up after that, because while death by blowjob sounded like a good way to go, I wasn’t interested in a raging infection in my dick thanks to an infected tattoo. I was pretty sure I was supposed to have waited at least three more weeks before…activity.

Oh, well.

When I returned to the bed, I cradled her against me, my hands tracing the perfect lines of her body, wishing I could freeze the moment, keep her with me like this. Forever.

Eventually, her breaths evened, and she fell asleep.

And I stayed up all night, not wanting to miss a second of the first time she ever slept in my bed.