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

Thump, thump, thump. 

My pulse is flying. I feel it everywhere. My neck, my wrist, my thigh…in between my legs.

I’d rather relive the moment when I walked in on my brother getting a sexual favor from the captain of the cheer team my freshman year of high school than ever admit that Ford’s little lesson has me completely turned on.

My cheeks are flushed, and my legs are wobbly. The floor beneath me moves, and everyone else disappears the longer I stare.

He told me to take what I want, but after standing across the party, watching him touch some girl with hot seduction, I find myself fully entranced and wanting him to touch me.

I press the back of my hand against my warm forehead. The wall holds me up as I continue to stare at Ford’s talented hand round the curve of a perfectly perky breast. I follow his movements like a magnet. His show has me in a chokehold, and I hate the warmth in between my legs, because Ford is the very last person I could ever toe the line with.

His hand quickly snaps to the blonde’s chin, and he grips it with a bone-chilling possession. My eyes widen, and I’m at a standstill. Her attention is fully grasped, and suddenly, mine is too, because he flicks his hooded eyes to me for the briefest of seconds before kissing her so deeply I can’t breathe.

The kiss is hot. Ford’s mouth moves over hers so seductively that it belongs in a porno. I’m suddenly involved in a provocative espionage, yet I refuse to look away. Ford is taking what he wants, and when his plaything’s leg creeps up, and she traps him to her, I know she’s giving herself up willingly.

They make-out for what feels like an eternity, and I fumble to breathe when he finally breaks the kiss. My lips part with shallow breaths, and I’m sweating. I finally force myself to look away, because if Ford sees the look on my face, he’ll be able to read my thoughts and I’m not willing to admit what I’m thinking to him. In fact, I’m not even going to admit them to myself.

Instead, I frantically search the party for someone to push my dirty thoughts onto. I pass on the hockey players, because that’s a no-go, and linger on someone I’ve never seen before. His dark hair catches a shine from the light, and he sees me staring right away.

Ford’s voice is in my head, feeding me encouragement, but I wish I could block him out. He’s paying no attention to me. Instead, his face is buried in the puck bunny’s neck, and it annoys me so much that I find myself walking toward the unfamiliar guy with steel-blue eyes.

“Hey.” He flicks his chin at me when I make my way over.

Flirting is second nature to me, so I don’t overthink it. I do exactly what Ford told me to do, I act like myself. “Hi,” I greet him with a sugary voice and smile. His eyes drop right to my mouth. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

The guy shrugs and then tips back his beer. There’s a little bit of foam on his mouth, but he is quick to jolt his tongue out from behind his lips to lick it clean.

“You could say that I’m new.” His voice is hot too.

I bite my lip and eye him closely. “Let me guess. You play…” After leaning back and checking him out, I laugh lightly. “Football for sure.”

His mouth tips into a grin. “You’re right, but I’m curious as to how you know that.”

I shrug. “I grew up around athletes. I can spot them pretty easily.”

He throws his beer bottle in the trash and looks at my face for a few seconds too long. “You’re Taytum.”

I shoot him a sideways glance. “How do you–”

“And your brother is the goalie of Bexley U’s hockey team, yeah?”

Here we go.

Disappointment flares, and I want to spin around, look at Ford, and shout from across the party, “See what you two have done!”

My shoulders drop, and I’m about to walk out of the party with my tail tucked in between my legs, but then the guy tsks his tongue and steals my attention. “Don’t look discouraged. Your brother isn’t going to stop me from asking you to dance.”

Disbelief takes me hostage, and the shock must be evident on my face, because his eyebrows knit together with confusion. In an attempt to hide my stupor, words fumble out of my mouth that take us both by surprise. “I don’t want to dance. I want to go upstairs.”

My subconscious is shaking her head in the back of my mind because I’m about to disappear with a guy I don’t know, but in my defense, I know almost everyone at this party, and they have all been warned by my brother or Ford that I’m completely off-limits, so the choices aren’t vast by any means.

He quickly grabs me by the wrist and starts to lead me upstairs. I want to look back at Ford in the worst way, but I don’t, because this has nothing to do with him.

“I’m Jasper, by the way.”

I stiffen for a brief second when he tells me his name, but I can’t pinpoint the reason why. I loosen my tense shoulders, letting Jasper pull me to the very last door at the end of the hallway and brush away my nerves. My subconscious is likely trying to trick me into turning my back on Jasper because, deep down, I know I’m on my own by having Ford’s word that he won’t barge in and ruin my night.

That is, if he keeps his word.

“Jasper,” I repeat, still feeling a little dose of familiarity when I repeat his name.This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

He shuts the door behind us, and before we even share another word, he pushes me up against it and starts touching every part of my body that he can get his hands on. My head hits the wood, and my hair falls down my back when he tugs on the long strands.

My neck is his for the taking, and when his mouth hovers above my racing pulse, I grab onto his torso to steady myself against him.

“Fuck, you’re way hotter than any girl here,” he mutters.

Jasper’s lips move from the hollow part of my collarbone, and he pulls back to stare at me for a second. There’s a strange look in his eyes, and my heart starts to beat faster. I lean forward to kiss him but pause when his hand finds its way to my throat. He isn’t squeezing hard, but it still makes me sputter.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he states, squeezing a little tighter.

I freeze when his other hand starts to pull at my shirt. I grip his wrist and pull because there’s still a very self-conscious part of me that doesn’t want anyone to see my monitor. “No,” I murmur. “My shirt stays on.”

“The fuck it does.”

My eyebrows knit together, and anger replaces my nerves. “Excuse me?” I bite back.

I’m repeating his name in my head over and over again, like my brain is trying to figure out where the familiarity is coming from in the midst of anger. Jasper, Jasper, Jasper…

He chuckles, and I’ll give it to him–he has a smooth laugh, and his dangerously dark features are enticing, to say the least. But I am not the type of girl who likes to be bossed around. Ford and Emory can attest to that.

Jasper takes my wrists and pulls them up above my head, slamming them onto the door. I’m not sure if he thinks I’m into the little game he’s playing, but he’s about to learn that I trust very few people in my life, and he isn’t one of them.

“I want to see your tits, so I’m going to take your shirt off. You got that, pretty eyes?”

My pretty eyes flare with his tone, and he chuckles again. My rebuttal cuts through a sarcastic laugh. “No, you’re not, Jaspe–”

I gasp.

I was wrong.

I do know him.

His grip on my wrists tightens when I try to pull them away.

“I know who you are,” I say, baring my teeth. “And if you think you’ll get away with fucking me like you fucked Aspen, you have another thing coming.”

Jasper’s lip rises into a half-smile, and I tug on my wrists again. This time, he lets me go and takes a step away.

For the first time, I’m grateful for growing up with a hothead brother like Emory, because thanks to him, I not only know how to break up a fight, but I know how to start one too.

I brace myself for the pain and steady my stance. My fingernails dig into my palm, and I wind my arm back with enough force to bring it forward quickly, landing right on Jasper’s nose.

He bends at the waist and calls me a bitch, but I hardly hear him because I’m already out the door and halfway down the hall.