Page 146 of Pucking Them
I sat with a bowl of popcorn and pain meds and watched the game.
D’Angelo and Shay kicked Wilder’s arse. They both scored three goals.
The Penguins played a dirty game, unraveling as the game went on. They were undisciplined, despite Wilder’s furious hollering.
Possibly because of it.
He’s not a captain. He’s a bully.
Yet the Bay Rebels had a clear strategy. The rest of the team rallied around D’Angelo and Shay, protecting them from the Penguins, anticipating their attacks.
It was fucking satisfying.
I stretched out alone in our bed, thinking that I would struggle to sleep. The satisfaction at the wild grins and joy of the Bay Rebels, however, when they celebrated at the end of thegame, raising their sticks and hugging, meant that I slept better than I have in years.
Then this morning, I dressed in joggers and a gray t-shirt, only pushing myself in the gym as much as Cody medically allows, while the Arctic Monkeys blared loudly through the house. There is no D’Angelo to wince at my choice of English rock music.
It felt strange only needing to cook a full English breakfast for myself. Yet it was calming to keep the routine of cooking the breakfast that Mum would make for us each Sunday: fried eggs, bacon, two sausages, baked beans, and grilled tomatoes.
When Mum and Dad were struggling financially, I always knew it because we had to choose between having either bacon or a sausage. There were always plenty of baked beans.
After breakfast, I opened my emails in my office. I clicked quickly, when I saw the task that D’Angelo had sent me, as well as the fantasy scene.
D’Angelo has negotiated this scene with us several times. I know that it’s one of my brother’s top fantasies.
I can’t wait to attempt this position with Robyn.
Now, I glance at the pretty gray, silk panties and suspenders that lie on the marble floor next to my bare feet.
My eyes flash.
Then I drop the silk rope next to the panties in a coiled pile and concentrate on the Guide, which is balanced on my lap.
The others should be arriving home at any moment.
I need to finish the task.
…Write ten things thatyouneed as a dom from your relationship with Robyn…
I had expected a tutorial on knot tying or flogging. Possibly, more research on the safety aspects of BDSM.
I would have preferred any of those tasks.
Once, D’Angelo sent me an email with the subject: PRICK.
I furrowed my brow, wondering what I’d done wrong for my normally laidback boss to send me insults via email.
But then, it turned out that PRICK stood for personal responsibility, informed, consensual kink.
There are too many acronyms.
At least D’Angelo chose to call his club On the RACK. Shay would have probably called it On the PRICK.
I stare down at the Guide on my knee before snatching up the black pen that rests on the step next to me. I clutch it to my chest.
Will Robyn mind the crossed out mess I have made of this page?
I started the task several times…failed…and started again.
