Puck Block : A Brother’s Best Friend Hockey Romance (Bexley U)
Puck Block : Chapter 45

His lips are greedy when he kisses me, and I’m obsessed with the urgency that backs every one of his touches.

“God, I can’t get enough of you.” He pulls away briefly before going back for more. Ford’s calloused hands brush against my ribs when he shoves my oversized tee over my head and drops it to the floor.

I straddle him from above and push his shirt up next. I eagerly touch every tight ab along his stomach and feel the burn scorch my insides.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this moment? Sneaking into your room late at night to make you mine?” He’s out of breath, and it does nothing but excite me.

I push at the waistband of his loose sweats, and he takes them off, all while keeping me steady on top. His hard length is in my palm, and I’m lost with lust when his hand snakes down his chest to cover my hand gripping him.

He gets harder, and I’ve never felt so untamed before. There’s a need pushing me to do things that I’ve only ever imagined.

“I thought about you back then too,” I admit, shimmying down his legs.

Ford groans quietly. “What did you just say to me?”

I lick my lips. “I said I used to think about you too.”

“Fuck, Taytum.”

All of a sudden, my feet hit the floor. Ford’s hands tighten around my hips, and he breathes down into my space. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have a hard time controlling myself when it comes to you, and with your mouth that close, all I want to do is feel it around my cock.”

I fall to my knees instantly, and he curses under his breath. I grip his thighs, and the sound he makes fulfills every single fantasy I have ever had.

My bedside lamp clicks on, and he’s gazing at me like I’m the most irresistible thing he has ever laid eyes on. He looks at me like this isn’t just some space in time where we touch each other in secret, behind closed doors.

He looks at me like he wants to keep me forever.

His hand cups the back of my head, and I lick my lips. “I don’t think I can hold back with you tonight.” There’s a tug on my hair, and my nipples harden. “Not with you looking at me like that while you’re on your knees.”

I answer by gripping him around the base of his length and putting him in my mouth. His hips tilt, and his fingers tangle in my hair. My stomach dips with eager anticipation every single time he plunges himself in farther.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles. “I don’t even want to know how you got so good at this when I’ve tried to stop every guy from even looking at you for the last several years.”

I pull back and smile. “You think you’re the only guy I’ve ever snuck around with?”

Surprise makes me yelp when he picks me up and throws me onto my bed. He glares down at me in a hot, jealous rage that I could easily become obsessed with. “You and your fucking games.”

My legs are spread wide, and he’s inside me before I take a breath. “I’m the only guy you can sneak around with, got it?”

I nod through the twisting in my lower stomach and meet him halfway when he thrusts into me. My eyes shut with every lasting tingle he leaves behind.

An orgasm is right around the corner, and I know he can feel it, because he won’t stop hitting the perfect spot. His hot whisper skims my ear, and I shake. “Oh, and Taytum?” He glides in slowly and pulls an orgasm from me. His hand slams onto my mouth to drown my whimper when he whispers the rest of his sentence. “Delete that fucking app. You won’t be going on any more dates.”

I come so hard that he pulls out of me half a second later and comes on my bare belly.

We stare at the mess he’s made without muttering a word.

I can hardly stand to look at him as I shove the rest of my eggs in my mouth. A little bit of the yolk drips to my chin, and when I reach up to wipe it away, I hear him gulp from across the table. I finally get the nerve to look up at him, and he’s staring directly at my mouth.

My tongue rolls over my lips slowly, and his nostrils flare.

We’re lucky no one caught him going back to his room this morning. To my surprise, Ford didn’t leave right away last night. After we cleaned up and got dressed, he pulled me into his arms and laid with me until my alarm went off at four. He grabbed my chin, kissed me hard, and then snuck back into the room he shared with my brother until they left for college.

Neither of us have touched on what we’re doing, or what it means, but part of me doesn’t want to. There’s fear lingering there whenever I think about it, and for once, I just want to be. I don’t want to worry about the future or what will happen if my brother happens to walk in on us, or what my parents will think if we tell them that we’re seeing each other. I especially don’t want to think about what’ll happen if we do start something real and it doesn’t work.

Not to mention, I have a good amount of baggage that he’s well aware of–like medical bills, a lifelong disease, and possible hospital visits, which just so happen to trigger him into panic attacks.

I snap out of it when Emory walks into the kitchen with damp hair and his backpack all ready to go. “Hurry up and eat,” he demands, biting into a fluffy waffle my mom wouldn’t let me have, despite the fact that I haven’t had any carbs today. “Coach will make us skate laps if we don’t get back in time for practice.”

I roll my eyes, but at the same time, I stuff the rest of the egg into my mouth. Hockey coaches aren’t the only strict mentors–Professor Petit has demoted the star of a show before because she thought they were slacking when, in all reality, they weren’t.

“Chill. I’m ready.” I slide out from my chair.

My mom rounds the island and lowers her voice. “Did you give yourself a shot today? The right dose?”

I immediately look at Ford, and his brows furrow as he tries to read my expression. The shake of his head is discreet.

I test the waters with my mom but tread lightly. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m wondering the same,” Emory adds. “Of course she took her insulin.”

Ford stands up and collects our plates. “I think we’d know if she didn’t,” he says through an airy chuckle. He turns the water on at the sink and starts to wash our dishes before my mom sends him away and finishes. “It would be obvious because she’d probably pass out or go into DKA. It would be totally unsafe, and she wouldn’t do something to jeopardize her own health. Right, Taytum?”

I narrow my eyes. Is he testing me?

“Right,” I answer, letting the word pop out of my mouth with force.

My mom dries her hands on the towel and sighs. “Okay, but after last night, I just worry that you’ll do something rash because of the cost of your medicine. It’s not for you to worry about. Just take what you need, and if you need to change your medication, we will figure it out.”

“But that’s where you’re wrong,” I argue. “It’s my medicine. Of course I’m going to worry about it.” I leave out the part where I feel absolutely sick over the fact that they’re selling my childhood home to afford everything.

“Taytum,” my mom stresses.

I sigh and decide to let it go. “Okay. Let’s just drop it.”

She grabs my hand and squeezes three times, I love you. “We’ve got it figured out. You just go to the pharmacy when you’re due to fill the prescription, and it’ll be taken care of. We need to get your levels straightened out.”

I look over at Ford briefly, and he’s staring directly at me with a flexed jaw. I pull my attention back to my mom and fake a smile. “Okay, Mom. I love you.”

Her hug lasts for a long time, and behind her shoulder, I watch Ford leave the kitchen to follow after my brother, who is likely already in the car, waiting for us to scramble inside so he can get to practice on time.

“I’ll let you know when we get in,” I say, turning the corner.

I’m almost to the front door when a hand lands on my elbow and tugs me into the foyer.

“What are you doing?” I ask, looking from Ford to the hallway that leads to the kitchen.

“Do I need to start checking your injection sites to make sure you’re actually taking your insulin? I checked your levels, and they’re still all over the place.” His calm demeanor from last night is long gone, and in its place is my brother’s overprotective best friend.

I snatch my arm from his grasp. “Did you tell my parents?”

He pulls back, and I recognize the tiny slip of hurt that flashes across his face. “I told you I wouldn’t.”

My brother blares the horn, and both Ford and I look toward the window and see him in the driver’s seat of his car, waiting impatiently for us. “I know. But then she acted like–”

Ford steps closer, and I stop talking. His thumb goes under my chin, and he tilts my face to his. “You have my word, Tay. I’m not going to ruin your trust by telling them something you asked me not to. You are taking your insulin, though, right?”

I nod. “I am. I don’t know why my levels are wonky. I’m trying to correct them.”

“You know why she asked you that?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“Because you’re you. You’re selfless, loyal, and your heart is the size of Texas. I’ve never met someone who could care so much for others until I met you.” I open my mouth to deny his claim, but his grip on my chin tightens. “You should have hated me my senior year after I ruined your prom night.”

Oh God. I still hate when anyone brings up that god awful night.

“Except, you were the only one who attempted to snap me out of my panic, just hours later, when we were at the hospital.” He laughs under his breath. “I used to think it was your need to prove something to someone. Like you wanted to show the world that you could be the one to bring me out of my panic attack, but that’s not why you did it. It was because you cared about me.”

My heart slips. That night was the start of Ford Collins latching himself onto my soul. He’s been there for years, and I’ve refused to admit it aloud, but it’s true.

Another sound of the blaring horn makes us both jump. His hand falls away, and the wall goes back up. But before we walk out the front door and pretend like there’s nothing going on between us, he hooks a finger into my belt loop and pulls me backward until I hit his chest.

“When you’re ready to admit it, say the word.”

“Admit what?” I ask.

“That you care about me as much as I care about you.” He lets go of me and starts to walk past, but I stop him.

“And what if it doesn’t work? You and me? Then what? Everything will get messed up, Ford. Everything.”

Ford shrugs. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”