Shameless Puckboy (Puckboys Book 3)
Shameless Puckboy: Chapter 30

I STORM AFTER LANE. “What the fuck was that?”

He’s as calm as ever, even though he just quit his job. Because of me. Pretending he didn’t hear me, he keeps moving through the offices toward the exit, but I grip his arm to stop him.

He pulls out of my hold. “Not here, Oskar.”

“I think here is perfect. Because as soon as you realize I’m not worth losing your livelihood for, you’re going to want to march back in there and get your job back.”

Lane’s lips quirk on one side. “Never going to happen.” He heads toward the parking lot, and I have no choice but to follow him.

“You’re making a mistake.”

That makes him stop. He slowly turns, and his gaze narrows. “Am I? Why is sticking up for you a mistake?”

“Because …” My words get stuck in my throat.

Lane steps closer, standing chest to chest with me and way too close to be professional. He really doesn’t care about saving his own skin, does he?

Well, he should because … “I’m not worth it.”

“Don’t you think that’s my decision to make?”

“No. Because I know myself better than you know me. Therefore, I can make the judgment call that I am not good enough for you.”

“It’s a good thing I’m the perceptive one, because you’ve never known who you are. If I say you’re worth more to me than my job, I mean it.”

A rush of something passes through me so quickly my knees go weak. “You’ll regret throwing away everything you’ve worked for because of me.”

One of the administration assistants walks by and gives us a weird look, but Lane’s stoic glare makes her move on quickly.

“Not here,” Lane says again, turning on his heel.

I reluctantly follow him to his car across the street, but I’m determined to not let him out of this parking garage until he gets his job back. “I’m not going with you.” I fold my arms.

“No?” He smirks as he leans against the hood of his car.

“How the fuck have our roles reversed? Since when are you impulsive and I’m rational? Go back in there and beg.”

Lane licks his lips. “I’d rather take you home and beg you to cheer me up with your cock.”

I groan and almost give in immediately. “Lane. I can’t … You can’t …” I run a hand through my hair.

“I can’t what?”

“Only a dumbass would choose me like you did back there because eventually I’m going to screw up again, and you would have lost it all for nothing.”

Lane pushes off the side of the car and steps toward me. His whiskey-colored eyes are calculating as he closes the gap, and I hold my breath because I’m terrified he sees right through me.

“Aside from the fact that you are not nothing, I only did what you did in there. When it was me on the line, you were willing to end things to save my ass.”

“How do you know I didn’t end things because I just don’t give a fuck about you?” The crack in my voice is anything but convincing, and he knows it.

“Is that the reason why you did it? Because you don’t give a shit what happens to me?” There’s a tone of amusement, but it’s laced with a tiny bit of doubt.

Here’s where I need to do the Oskar thing and push him away. I could tell him that he means nothing, that the last few months were just more ways to mess with him, the team, and my life that I was so determined to tear down before Lane came into it.

I could walk away and not give a damn about what he’ll do now.

But … I can’t.

For my whole life, I’ve been immune to feelings. Real feelings. But it’s obvious that I care about Lane—more than I’ve cared about anyone else before.

When I still haven’t answered Lane’s question, he presses himself against me.

“You might think that this is me choosing you with some naïve hope that you could choose me back, but you’re wrong.” With him against me, all I want to do is wrap my arms around him and never let go, but I force myself to stay still. “You chose me first,” Lane says. “I know you’re a professional D-man, but you don’t have to defend yourself against everything. Let me in.”

“I can’t let you go down for me.”

We’re so close, his pink lips mere inches away from mine, his throat working as he swallows hard, and I want to kiss him and strangle him at the same damn time.

“What about letting me go down on you?”

Yep. Really not liking the role reversal here.

“Come on. I’m going to take you home, where I will spend all day convincing you that I’m completely on board with my decision.”

“How do you know you’re not going to regret it tomorrow?”

Lane lifts his lips, locking them with mine for a soft kiss that only lasts a couple of seconds. “Because I don’t have any regrets when it comes to you.”

For some unknown, fucked-up reason, my eyes sting, and my nose tingles. I’m helpless against this man, and I’m realizing all too late that he has a hold over me. A hold I don’t want to break. One I can’t walk away from.

This time, I’m the one to close the gap and bring our mouths together. It’s the most gentle we’ve been with each other, and it feels like more than kissing.

It’s giving in.

It’s taking down that wall between us and admitting that we’re more than a PR manager trying to wrangle his player.

It’s giving up pretenses.

It’s taking off masks.

It’s opening up the possibility for more.

And while my body and my heart are on board, it’s my brain that’s screaming at me I’m making a mistake. Yet, the rest of me won’t let myself stop.

I pull back from Lane’s lips but stay close and breathe him in. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“To you?” he asks. “What am I doing to you?”

My voice is shaky as I admit something I have never admitted before because it’s never happened. “You’re making me fall for you.”

I try to kiss him again so he can’t say anything back that I don’t want to hear, but he pulls away quickly and steps back. Just when I’m about to tell him I didn’t mean it because I’m scared I’ve admitted too much, Lane smiles.

“Then I’m definitely not going back in there to beg for my job. Get in the car, Oskar, before I push you against it and fuck you for all the cameras to see. I know you’d love for that to happen, but if what you said is true, no one gets to see you like that anymore. Only me.”

The possessiveness in his tone sends shivers down my spine, and it’s like a zap of electricity to my balls. It turns me on like crazy, possibly even more than the idea of CCTV capturing Lane bending me over the hood of his car and taking my ass right here.

Lane gets into the driver’s side, but before I take the passenger seat, I have to readjust myself.

Lane’s looking damn proud of himself when I finally climb in the car. He’s already got his seat belt on, but the car isn’t running. “I expected you to put up a fight and ask me to dick you out right here.”

“It was tempting,” I admit. “But if we’re doing this—if you’re giving up your job to actually pursue this for real—then rules are rules. No one gets to see me having sex anymore.”

Lane’s eyes narrow. “Who are you, and where is the real Oskar?”

“Turns out he might have a bigger kink than public sex and the thrill of possibly being caught.”

“What’s that?”

“Regular, boring sex with his … boyfriend? Is that what’s happening here?”

“I’m probably too old to be throwing around the boyfriend word, but if you’re asking if this is a relationship now, all I really have to say is I think we’ve been in one for a while and just didn’t acknowledge it.”

That’s probably true. “And hey, I haven’t fucked it up yet. Does that mean there’s hope?”

Lane leans across the center console. “I’m not hoping.” The disappointing sting about his lack of trust in me only hurts for a second because then he says, “I have faith.”

I don’t know if that makes him stupid or the perfect man for me.

Either way, I fall for him a little more.

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