Forever Pucked by Helena Hunting Page A

around the corner before I let my shoulders droop. I’m definitely beginning to feel the divide between me and them. And I’m not sure how much I like it.
    Back at my desk, I flop into my chair and set my sandwich next to my keyboard. Shrugging out of my coat, I turn my monitor on, waiting for my login prompt.
    Dean makes a valid point. While he wasn’t a manwhore, Alex did make out with a lot of girls prior to dating me. There are literally hundreds of pictures of him with his tongue in various girls’ mouths. Now, I don’t know how many of those girls ever got their hands down his pants, or got on their knees and tried to get his massive cannon down the hatch, but I’m imagining there were at least a few. Maybe more than a few.
    Combine that revelation with the conversation about a pre-nup, and now I’m feeling less secure. Plus, the rumor about the Darcys being swingers is disconcerting, even if it is just a rumor. I don’t want to think about them boning other people while I’m presenting their financial portfolio next week.
    I thought swinging was popular in the sixties and seventies, when everyone was doing coke and didn’t understand the ramifications of banging all sorts of people. I shudder at the idea of Alex putting his hands, or any other part of his body, on Darcy’s wife.
    Her name is Bunny. How’s that for irony? She also has big boobs. Bigger than mine. Although, I think hers might be the paid-for variety. Not that it matters much. Boobs are boobs. If Alex can grab them and put his dick between them, he’s a happy man. What if he wants to slide his dick between her boobs? What if she wants to fondle mine? What if Mitch wants to have sex with me, and Alex wants to watch? Why has my life suddenly become a cheesy porno?
    I try to focus on work, but I’m distracted by porntastic scenarios involving Alex and Bunny. I need answers. The internet will have some, but those aren’t necessarily reliable, as I’ve learned over time.
    Buck is a good option. I pick up my work phone under the guise of doing my actual job and punch in his number. He answers on the third ring.
    “Hey, Vi. How’s it going?”
    “Okay. Fine. Good. You?”
    He goes into immediate brother-protection mode. “What’s wrong?”
    “Why would you think something’s wrong?”
    “Seriously?”
    “No, really, what tipped you off?”
    “You sound like a prepubescent boy.”
    “I have a throat thing.”
    “No, you don’t.”
    “Okay. No, I don’t.” I need to get better at lying. I wonder if there are classes for that kind of thing.
    “So what’s wrong? You and Waters get into it or something? You want me to break his nose again?”
    “No. Please don’t do that. He doesn’t snore yet, and if you break his pretty face, that might change, and I like sleeping beside his fuckhot body. Especially when he’s naked, and I’m naked, and there’s nothing but warm skin.” I inhale one of those deep breaths and release it so it makes the Darth Vader whooshing sound when I exhale into the receiver.
    “Thanks for sharing all of that. Sunny tells me I’m like a cuddly warm blanket when we sleep naked.” Buck returns the overshare.
    “That’s because you are a blanket. A big yeti blanket.”
    “Ah, there we go. Whatever’s wrong can’t be that bad. So what’s the problem?”
    “Are Mitch Darcy and his wife swingers?”
    Buck coughs, like maybe I’ve made him choke on something. “Where’d you hear that?”
    “It doesn’t matter where I heard it. Is it true?”
    “Shit. I don’t know, Vi. There are rumors, but then there are always rumors, ya know? Why’re you asking? Does Waters want you to go on a double date with them or something? I’ll shove my fist up his dick hole.”
    I make a disgusted sound. “No, Buck, Alex doesn’t want to go on a double date with them. And please don’t put images of your fist near Alex’s dick in my head. That’s just awful. I’m supposed to present a proposal for the Darcys’