Dirty Pucker (Denver Bashers #2)

16. Ingrid

Chapter 16

Ingrid

I board the Bashers’ private plane for our flight to Las Vegas, my stomach in knots.

The team and staff are traveling for the Bashers’ matchup with the Las Vegas Bandits. I’ll be filming social media content. This is my first away game with the team, so I need to be on my A-game and brainstorm lots of cool content for social media.

But right now, all I can think about is Del.

I spot him standing a dozen feet away from me as we all make our way down the aisle of the plane.

I wonder if he can feel my eyes boring through the back of his head.

I’ve been staring at him nonstop ever since I spotted him ahead of me a few minutes ago. Because he looks hot as hell in that suit.

I recently learned that hockey players wear suits when they travel for games. Initially, I thought that was so random.

But now I am one hundred percent on board with it. Because damn, is it hot to see a fit athlete wearing a suit.

Especially Del.

He looks like a Hugo Boss model in that charcoal gray suit he’s wearing. It’s tailored to fit his tall, broad, muscled frame perfectly.

Like a creep, I stare at him as he lifts his carry-on bag and slides it into the overhead compartment. Even through his suit jacket, I can see his muscles. They pulse and ripple through the thick fabric as he stretches and flexes his arms.

Drool pools in my mouth as I gawk at him.

When he finishes loading his bag, he runs a hand through his thick, coffee-brown hair. It flops in every direction, making him look deliciously disheveled and put together all at once.

He glances in my direction and I quickly look down, pretending to be super interested in the strap of my bag.

We haven’t spoken since we fell on top of each other while we were half-naked in the steam room and kissed.

Technically, it was barely a kiss. Our lips touched, but only for about two seconds, and our mouths didn’t even move.

That doesn’t make that moment any less hot, though.

My brain slingshots back to that moment, when I fell onto Del’s hard lap. His skin felt hot underneath me. I think about the look in his eyes, how his pupils were blown out and dazed as he gazed at me.

I blink and the image of his flawless body pops into my head. That man looks like he was carved from marble. His torso is a shelf of muscle: perfectly sculpted shoulders and biceps and pecs and a six-pack that mortal humans would die for…

And his dick…

I almost choke when I think about Del’s cock.

It was impressive. Not just big, but thick. And pretty.

The second my gaze landed on his perfect cock, my mouth watered. I wanted to drop to my knees and suck him, then ride him.

And if Theo hadn’t interrupted us, that’s exactly what I would have done.

My clit pulses at the thought of taking Del’s massive dick.

I’ve been fantasizing about it nonstop since that night…

How I’d sink onto his hard dick slowly at first, so I could get used to his size…how his voice would get all rough and low as he coaxed me through it…how, when I’d take his entire cock in my pussy, he’d give me that sexy-as-sin half-smile and rasp, “good girl…”

Just then I feel someone tap on my shoulder. I twist my head to look to the side and see the flight attendant looking at me expectantly.

“Miss, could you please keep moving forward in the aisle?”

And that’s when I realize the aisle ahead of me is clear and I’ve been holding up the line behind me while replaying this filthy fantasy about Del inside my brain.

I apologize and walk forward, stopping to shove my bag in the first empty overhead compartment I spot.

God, I’m such a deviant—and not just for my dirty little fantasy a second ago.

I’ve been playing with myself every night as I replay that imagined hookup with Del.

Shame engulfs me from the inside out and my cheeks heat.

I glance around for a seat and spot the first available one…which is right next to Del.

For a second, I hesitate. It’s gonna be weird for us to sit together during this flight, given we haven’t spoken since the last time we saw each other, when we were half-naked, I was sitting on his lap, my thighs nudging his hard cock…

But it would be even weirder if I walked past him without saying a word.

I walk up to the empty seat next to Del. “Is it okay if I sit here?” I try to smile, but I’m so nervous that all the muscles in my face feel stiff. I bet I look deranged.

The corners of his mouth curve up in an easy smile. “Of course.”

I settle next to him. We’re quiet as the rest of the team staff and players find their seats. The airplane doors close and the flight attendants start their safety demonstration.

“You a nervous flyer?” Del asks quietly.

I twist to look at him. “Huh?”

He glances down at my lap, where I realize I’m fidgeting with my seatbelt strap.

“Oh. No.” I let out an embarrassed laugh. “I just…”

I trail off as I look at him, his mahogany gaze fiery. My stomach flips.

He clears his throat. “So, um, about the other night. In the steam room.” His voice is low and quiet, which is good because my cousin is sitting two rows ahead of us and I don’t want him to find out what Del and I did in the steam room.

“Yeah?” I ask, my voice soft and breathy.

He clears his throat again and looks down. He rubs the back of his neck, then tugs at his tie.

When he looks at me again, his brow is furrowed and his eyes are shy. “If I did anything to make you feel uncomfortable, I’m really sorry.”

I blink at him, confused.

“You didn’t.” He blinks and his brow eases. “Del, you didn’t make me uncomfortable. At all.”

He lets out a breath. “I’m relieved to hear that.”

The plane engine kicks up and we start to roll forward on the runway.

“It’s just…I got carried away in the moment,” he says after a moment.

“I did too.” I bite my lips as I gaze at him. His stubbled cheeks flush. He flashes a shy smile. My stomach flutters.

This normally gruff guy is nervous and god, it’s so cute and endearing.

A question I’ve been dying to ask him since that night dances on the tip of my tongue.

I bite the inside of my cheek as we glide into the air. My ears pop as we gain altitude.

Part of me thinks I shouldn’t say it, that I should let the conversation end right here. We talked it out and made sure that we felt okay about it. We can move on as friends.

But the other part of me…the part that’s been fantasizing about Del for the past few days…wins out.

I turn to him and blurt out my question in a quiet voice so only he can hear. “What would you have done if Theo hadn’t interrupted us?”

I hold his gaze. My heart races and my nerves go haywire waiting for him to answer.

He pins me with that rich brown stare. “I would have kept kissing you. I would have ripped off that tiny bikini so I could feel every inch of your body on mine. And I would have made you ride my cock until you came so hard, you saw stars.”

I gasp softly, stunned and turned on that Del wanted me in that moment just as much as I wanted him.

“That’s exactly what I wish would have happened,” I say.

He blinks and clarity returns to his gaze. “It can’t happen though. Because we’re friends. And we work together. And your cousin is my teammate and he’ll skin me alive if I touch you. We can’t ever cross that line.”

I nod, even though I hate that he’s right.

We’re both quiet in the aftermath of what he’s said. My skin is hot and tingly, and my pussy is aching because all I want is Del and it’s turning me on even more that I can’t have him…

I glance over at him and notice how hard he’s clenching his jaw. My gaze falls to his lap, and I spot the unmistakable bulge of his hard-on.

Looks like he’s frustrated and turned on too.

The pilot makes an announcement that we’re in for a smooth ride during our two-hour flight to Las Vegas. The seatbelt sign light turns off, and a bunch of the guys hop out of their seats to visit with each other.

I grab my phone and take a candid photo of the guys on the plane, eager for something to do other than sit here and think about the fact that the man I want most in the world is the one I can’t have.

Then I pull up Del’s Instagram account and post the pic along with a caption.

“What are you doing?” Del asks.

“Indulging your Instagram followers.” I show him the photo and caption.

On our way to kick Las Vegas’s ass #bashers #denver #bandits #hockeyboys

Del smiles. “Thanks again for taking over my Instagram. And for putting so much effort into posting regularly. I’m so bad at that stuff.”

I smile at him. “It’s my pleasure. And hey, thanks for singing my praises to the guys on the team. Xander, Blomdahl, and Theo saw the boost in your Instagram account and asked me to take over theirs too. So I’ve been able to put my random social media skills to good use.”

Sincerity flashes in Del’s eyes. “Your skills aren’t random, Ingrid. You’re amazing at what you do. I’ve gotten a ton of followers since you took over my Instagram. You know exactly what to post to connect with people, get them excited, make them laugh. It takes talent and skill to do all that.”

I touch my cheek, blushing at his compliment. I’ve been posting at least three times a week on Del’s Instagram. Usually it’s photos of him at practice or a live shot of him on the ice during the game. But I also post fun photos, like an inside look at the Bashers locker room or a clip of a funny TikTok I film with him. Or I’ll make him take a photo of a meal or snack or his coffee order, or a screenshot of his workout playlist. Just something fun that lets his fans see that he’s a cool and fun guy, not just a fierce hockey player.

“You saw what a pathetic state my Instagram was in before you started helping me,” Del says. “Everyone thought I was a grumpy fucker who hated being on social media. Which, I mean, I kind of am.”

I laugh.

“But you helped me figure out how to showcase a different side of myself. A side that people actually like. They say nice things in the comment section of my Instagram now. Thanks for that.”

I smile, touched by how he praises my work and how much it means to him.

A second later, Alanna walks up to us. “Hey, you two. Just the folks I was looking for.” She turns to Del. “So about your physique photoshoot tomorrow.”

I heard that Del was asked to do a nude photoshoot about athletic physiques for Luc Jean Pierre, the world-famous photographer.

My cavewoman brain instantly pulls up the image of his cock. I press my eyes shut for a second and will the sexy image away.

“I won’t be able to make the shoot,” Alanna says. “I’m sorry, but I got roped into another meeting with the team owner that day.”

“It’s okay. I understand,” he says.

She looks down at me. “I was hoping you could go with Del? You could handle all the PR stuff for him so he can focus on modeling for the shoot. And hey, it would make fantastic social media content, don’t you think?”

“Oh. Sure, I can do it.”

Alanna beams. “You’re the best, Ingrid. Thank you.”

She promises to email all the credentials and info for the shoot as soon as we land in Vegas, then walks back to her seat at the front of the plane.

I glance at Del, who’s looking at me. A teasing smile plays along his lips. He tugs his tie loose and lets out a soft laugh.

“Looks like you’re gonna have to see me naked again, friend.”

I burst out laughing, feeling giddy, nervous, and in disbelief.

Watching Del as he models naked during a photoshoot won’t complicate things between us even more.

Nope. Not at all.