Puck Block : A Brother’s Best Friend Hockey Romance (Bexley U)

I could ravish her.

Wide-eyed with pink-tinted cheeks, Taytum stops on the last step with those baby blues that suck me in with one look.

“Where’re you going?” I quip.

I shove my hands inside my pockets to lock them away because I don’t trust myself not to grab her waist, spin her around, and whisper more dirty things into her ear.

That is not part of the plan, and it’s vital that I stay on course.

“I’m leaving!” Taytum is on the edge of insanity, and I fucking love it.

I shake my head. “No, you’re not.”

She straightens her spine when she descends down the last step. I almost want to tell her to stay put because I can’t afford for her to get any closer to me, but instead, I remain in my casual stance with one shoulder leaning against the wall and my hands in my pockets. “You’re going to turn around, go back upstairs, and score.” A heavy sigh fills the tight space, and it seems like I’m frustrated with her, but I’m not. I’m frustrated with my semi-hard dick. “You’re supposed to take what you want, remember? And I’m supposed to be helping you score a few one-night stands and a potential date or two.”

Her arms fly across her chest, and it’s a temptation like no other. My eyes fall to her perfect tits, and my throat closes.

“What I want is to punch you in the face,” she snaps.

I chuckle. “That’s not what you want to do to me.”

Abort. Abort. Abort.

My restraints are loosening, and the seed of anger in Taytum’s glare is nothing but a lure. I push off the wall and stalk over to her, ignoring the warning bells going off in the back of my head. I’m not surprised when she doesn’t move, but I really wish she would.

I take the back of my hand and slowly brush my knuckles against her warm cheek when she tips her head to stare up at me. “I got you all worked up, Tay. So, what are you going to do about it?”

The pad of my finger tingles when I trace the curve of her lips. A raspy chuckle leaves me when she tries to bite it, and a second later, her back is up against the wall. The red exit sign paints the small space with a reddish hue, and the only thing I can think is how badly I want to unbutton her jeans, slip my hand in between her legs, and feel how much I’ve turned her on.

“You going to fix the problem I gave you? Or are you going to puss out like you keep doing with all those other guys you’re messaging?”

She swallows, and I tilt my head like a predator. I feel wild with her trapped in my arms with no one around to stop me.

I lean in closer, and Taytum’s blonde hair brushes against my hand on her waist when she tips her head against the wall. Her rib cage expands a second too fast, and the only thing I’m doing is making things worse, yet I can’t stop.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“It’s almost like you’re scared. I thought you wanted freedom, yet you won’t take it.”

Taytum’s sweet breath hits my face, and my mouth waters.

My dick is so hard it hurts, but I know better than to brush it against her. One single touch and my limit will be reached.

“Well, considering that every time in the past when I’ve run off with some guy, you or Emory show up like a fucking nightmare, yeah, maybe I am a little afraid. I don’t like to be left high and dry.” Her little jaw tenses, and I grip her chin to make her loosen it.

“You have my word. Emory has already disappeared with some puck bunny, and I promise you I won’t interfere.” I pull my gaze away and stare at the door. “Why do you think I sent all those messages? I’m trying to help you. I told you I’d help you date, have one-night stands, whatever. This is me keeping my word and pushing you out of your comfort zone.”

It’s total bullshit.

I’m pushing her out of her comfort zone so it’ll stop me from keeping her for myself.

Taytum’s fingers trace every one of my knuckles on the hand that’s holding her steady. I tighten my grip and watch her lips form words that are dangerous to my ears. “And what if, right now, I want you?”

I have to physically pull myself away. The images in my head of what I want to do to her are going to send me straight to the grave, and if she doesn’t get out of my sight, I’m going to do something I’ll regret.

“No.” My tone is harsh. “Go find someone else.”

A short gasp cuts from her mouth, and it’s sharp enough to make me bleed.

“Fine!”

I can’t fathom turning around to watch her stomp up the stairs, so I wait until I hear the door open and close before spinning and slapping the part of the wall I trapped her against.

Something would have happened if I kept her hidden away in this little nook with no witnesses, and I’d likely regret it. But standing here alone while she’s upstairs flirting with some guy who probably doesn’t deserve her is something I may regret even more.

I take a few more deep breaths and decide that it’s been a reasonable amount of time since she left, so I climb the same steps she stomped up and return to the party. The hall has cleared significantly, and it looks like Bexley U is on top with hardly any time left in the last quarter.

Theo and Claire have emerged from their room, and she’s leaning against his chest while they watch Rush take a blow after throwing a pass downfield.

I try to keep my attention on the game, but I can’t help myself. I do a quick search-and-rescue for Taytum. I turned her down, and it wounded her, which means she’s most definitely going to act out. She’s probably with someone I detest. Knowing her, she’s probably fucking him in my room.

“Where have you been?” Theo asks, throwing me his knuckles.

I hit them a little too hard, and both he and Claire look at me suspiciously. Theo studies me, and he likely knows where I’ve been, but I brush him off and stare at the screen before pulling out my phone and deleting all the messages between Taytum and me.

If there’s no evidence, it didn’t happen, right?

“Do you know where Taytum is?” Claire asks.

She’s on her tiptoes, looking past the group of girls wanting my attention, but I can’t even pretend to be interested in them.

“Nope.”

Theo clears his throat, and I shoot him a lethal glare. Claire steps right in front of me, and I’m forced to shift my attention to her small frame. “Yes?” I ask, dragging the word out.

“What happened?” Her hand falls to her hip with the same amount of attitude her best friend possesses.

“Nothing happened.” It’s the truth, but it feels like a lie. “Emory is distracted, and she asked me to stay away, so I’m giving her freedom.”

“Is that so?” There’s a hint of skepticism behind Claire’s question, but all I do is nod and go back to watching the game. She sighs, shakes her head, and then strides over to Theo again. Before long, the game is over, and everyone is clearing out of the hall.

My cheek is raw from chewing on it, and I’ve checked my phone at least five times in the last minute. I turn it on silent for my own mental sake and shove it in my pocket. I force myself back to my room, ignoring the girls hoping to get my attention, and plan to stay there all night.

It wasn’t supposed to be this difficult to distance myself from Taytum. I’ve done it for years, pretending she wasn’t sleeping two doors down from me in high school and acting like she didn’t exist when we were in a crowded room when all I really wanted to do was look in her direction. I used to force myself to grab the girl off to the side instead of grabbing her, but right now, I feel tormented.

I open the door to my dorm with my head hung low.

As soon as I’m inside the threshold, I stop dead in my tracks.

She fucking didn’t. 

It’s scary how well I know her.

Taytum’s shirt lies at my feet, and I kick it halfway across the room. I pull my eyes away from the bundled cotton and land on her half naked body on top of my bed.

The ground shakes.

Her flimsy bra strap is pulled down her shoulder, and the guy she ended up with is sucking on her neck like a fucking vampire.

Words are nonexistent. All I can do is stare.

I take in the scene with an alarming calmness. A lethal dose of anger flies though my blood stream that’s quickly followed by desire. A little moan falls off her lips, and it’s the sexiest thing I have ever heard.

I have never been so jealous in my life.

Taytum knows I’m standing here. I know she can feel it when I enter a room, just like I can when she does. She’s putting on a show for me because she’s still playing the game, but I want to call it quits.

My throat bobs when I watch her straddle him. She wraps her smooth legs around his waist, and his dirty hands fall to her hips like she’s his to touch. His face goes to her breasts, and I know what he’s going to do next, because it’s what every guy would do. He wants to taste her, suck on her nipples, and make them pucker against his tongue.

That’s it.

Now I’m going to have to set my dorm room on fire, get thrown out of Bexley U, and never make it to the pros. But at least I won’t have to stand here and die a slow death as some guy touches what’s mine.

The moment Taytum peeks at me through the thick strands of her hair, I glare. At first glance, she appears deceitful. She’s so proud of herself, and the saying Payback is a bitch is ringing true at the moment. But then, something changes. She blinks those thick, dark lashes a few times, and her brow furrows. Her porn-star hip movements stop, and the guy—probably some stupid underclassman who fell for her lure—asks her why she stopped.

“Out!” I bark.

The guy practically throws Taytum, and I’m about to throw him. Fortunately, I’m too concerned with Taytum’s glazed daze to worry about if he lives or dies.

I rush over to my bed and run my hand down her face.

Her skin is clammy, and her breathing is erratic. I quickly scoop her into my arms and press my fingers to her pulse. Shit.

“Taytum, when was the last time you’ve eaten?” I’m on the edge of insanity. Fear grips me, and my pulse matches hers. I pull my phone out of my pocket, and nausea races toward me.

Her eyes drift, and I shake her. She blinks a few times, and I can tell she can’t focus.

“Fuck, Tay. Your sugar is low. Did you take too much insulin?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I…I’m fine.” No, you’re not. “I know what I’m doing.”

I place her on the bed and rush over to my gym bag. With a shaky hand, I undo the emergency snack kit that Emory and I both purchased as soon as she was diagnosed and pull out the bottle of glucose tablets. I open the bottle so quickly half of them fall to the floor, but I swoop up a couple into my palm and pull her into my lap.

“Open your mouth.”

She does as I say, and I pop the pink tablets into her mouth and close her jaw. Her head sways to the side, and we’re both sweating. I brush her hair away from her sticky forehead, and she closes her eyes.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper.

We stay in the same position for almost twenty minutes before she nods against my chest. I run my hand down her arm and watch goosebumps rise. “Better?”

“I’m okay,” she croaks.

Her eyes are shut, and she turns further to her side. I shimmy down onto my bed, and she exhales slowly when my arm comes around to trap her. I cup her head to my chest when she drapes a leg over mine.

I have no idea what just happened or why her sugar was so low, but instead of asking, I let her rest with the promise of bringing it up later.

Right after I punish her for trying to fuck some guy in my bed.