Pucking My Best Friend's Little Sister

Chapter Three

RILEY’S POV

The next few days felt like I was walking around in a dream.

Every time I closed my eyes, I could still feel Jax inside me—thick, hard, stretching me open on that cold locker room bench. I could still hear the way he groaned my name when he came, the way his c*m had leaked out of me afterward. My body was sore in the best possible way, and every time I moved, I remembered exactly who had claimed me.

I tried to act normal around Logan. Really, I did.

We were sitting at the kitchen island having breakfast the morning after. Logan was scrolling through his phone, eating cereal like nothing had changed. I kept my head down, pushing my scrambled eggs around the plate.

“You good, Ri?” Logan asked suddenly, his voice sounded casual but his eyes looked different when he looked up at me. “You’ve been quiet since the game, and you look…different.”

I forced a small smile. “I’m fine. I was just tired from watching you guys almost lose in the third period.”

He chuckled, but his eyes didn’t leave my face. “Yeah? Because you disappeared right after the game and I looked everywhere for you.”

My heart skipped a thousand beats. “I had to study. A big test is coming up.”

Logan nodded slowly, but I could tell he wasn’t fully convinced. “Alright. But if something’s going on, you’d tell me, right?”

“Of course,” I lied smoothly.

He reached over and ruffled my hair like I was still twelve. “Good. Because if you’ve been running off with any guy on the team. I’ll break their legs and yours, especially Jax. That motherfucker knows the rules.”

He looked at me smiling like he hadn’t just low-key threatened my life. I just smiled back and took another bite of eggs, my thighs pressed together under the table as I remembered how Jax had felt between them.

The days after that were pure torture.

Jax avoided me like I had the plague.

He wouldn’t look at me during practice when I helped with equipment. He changed direction if I walked down the same hallway. But I could feel his eyes on me when he thought I wasn’t looking.They were dark, hungry, and full of guilt.

The tension kept building until it felt like the air itself would break through.

So after practice on Thursday, I finally cornered him.

The storage room near the rink was small and rarely used. I waited until I saw him walk past, then grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside, closing the door behind us.

“Riley—” he started, in a warning tone.

But I didn’t let him finish. I pushed up on my toes and kissed him hard.

For a second he resisted, he placed his hands on my shoulders like he wanted to push me away. Then he groaned and kissed me back, deep and desperate. His tongue slid against mine as he backed me against the wall, one big hand sliding under my shirt to grip my waist.

“f**k, you taste so good,” he muttered against my lips. “This is dangerous.”

“I don’t care,” I whispered, my hands sliding down to palm the hard bulge in his pants. “I need you again, Jax. Please.”

He kissed me harder, grinding his c**k against me. I moaned into his mouth, already wet and aching. His hand moved lower, slipping under my skirt and pushing my panties aside. His fingers found my soaked p***y and stroked me slowly.

“So f*****g wet already,” he growled. “This p***y misses my c**k, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” I breathed, rocking against his hand.

He was just about to push a finger inside me when we heard voices outside the door. A couple of teammates laughing and walking past.

Jax froze. He pulled his hand away like I burned him and stepped back immediately.

“We can’t,” he said roughly. “Not here. Not now.”

I reached for him again, but he caught my wrists gently. “Riley, stop. Logan is right outside. If he finds out…”

He looked torn. Both guilt and lust were literally fighting on his face.

Before I could say anything else, he opened the door a crack, checked if the coast was clear, and slipped out.

I stood there alone in the storage room, heart racing, p***y throbbing, and frustration enveloping my body.

Later that evening, I was walking toward the parking lot when I felt someone’s eyes on me.

I turned my head slightly and caught a glimpse of her.

Scarlett Voss.

She was leaning against one of the pillars near the exit, with her phone in her hand, looking every bit the beautiful, confident sports reporter she was.

Long dark hair, piercing eyes and bright red lips always forming a small smile. She was the one who had been hanging around Logan lately, always asking for interviews and “exclusive access.”

Our eyes met for a second.

She smiled wider, but there was something cold and mischievous in it.

I looked away quickly and kept walking, but I could feel her watching me the whole way to my car.

What I didn’t see was Scarlett lifting her phone, zooming in on the storage room door I had just come out of, and pressing record with a dark, satisfied smile on her face.