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

I’ll never admit it out loud, but for a split second, I forgot the real reason Ford brought me to a bar several towns over from Bexley U. We’re here to hone my dating skills, because if I were to be graded on it, I’d get an F.

However, if I were to be graded on my naiveté, I’d get an A.

Frustration backs my every move like I have a point to prove. But I have nothing to prove to anyone except myself.

For a second, I let myself get worked up by the one guy who is the reason I’m in this predicament in the first place. I’m not stupid enough to think he and I could ever be anything, and yet…there was a fleeting moment where I’d hoped he was telling the truth.

Ugh.

I pull Ford across the dance floor, and instead of being the flirtatious college girl that I usually am, filling the air with my airy laughter, I do exactly what he told me to do the other night. I take what I want.

Ignoring the sign on the door that says Out of Order, I push it open and shut it tightly once we’re inside. It’s one of two bathrooms, and it’s exactly what you’d expect a bar bathroom to look like–especially one that isn’t in use. Dim lighting, a musky scent that’s barely disguised with Lysol, and hand-carved notes all over the walls. There are even a few red lipstick stains on the mirror from girls blotting their mouths after reapplying.

Ford looks around before staring at me from across the small space. “What’s your plan now?” His voice is seedy, and it throws me off balance. My stomach takes a nosedive, and I have to force myself to feel the frustration I felt a few moments ago that set me on my mission.

He stays still when I slowly walk across the sticky floor to erase the space separating us. I take the cowboy hat off my head and place it on the doorknob before stepping back in front of him and pressing up against his chest. Our body heat mingles, and I reach up on my tiptoes to push my shaky hand through his sandy hair. At the last second, I grip the strands and pull his face down to mine.

I catch the faint groan coming from the back of his throat, and although I want him to kiss me, he goes for my neck instead. There’s a delicious squeeze against my hips from his strong grip, and every nerve ending in my body sparks when his lips brush against my delicate skin.

I gasp like I’ve never been touched before, and it’s followed by a line of chills racing down my spine. We’re so close that not even a breath could fit in the space between us. Ford’s lips skim over me as he trails kisses past my collarbone. I crane my neck to give him more access, and my vision becomes hazy when his warm breath mingles in front of my ear.

“Is this what you want?” he asks. “For me to kiss you and touch you all over?”

God, yes.

I shake in his grip. Ford presses against the door when I move closer to him, and my fingers tingle when I feel that he’s just as turned on as I am.

I pull away just enough to make eye contact with him and finally answer, “Yes.”

His jaw tenses, and his heavy hands squeeze me around the waist again. “Say it, then. The sooner you learn to take what you want, the sooner you’ll be on your way to those one-night stands you crave so much.”

He says it with a bitter tone, but I don’t let it deter me. I’m too eager to feel his mouth on mine and too infatuated with the idea of my brother’s best friend teaching me how it feels to be kissed by someone as experienced as him without the fear of someone pulling me away.

“Kiss me.” Our mouths are almost touching, and I’m on fire. If he asked me to get on my knees and beg, I probably would.

Ford’s fingers dig into my hair when he cups my face roughly. He’s breathing heavily against my mouth, and the only thing it does is put me into a frenzy. “And after I kiss you? Then what? Because I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop.”

I swallow. “Whatever you want.”

“Fuck.”

I’m tangled with lust, and his clenched eyes make the pulse between my legs beat harder. I breathe out a warm sigh, and Ford’s eyes open right away. I jump from the sudden heat in his gaze, and then his mouth is on mine, and everything just stops.

His lips linger for a split second, like he knows he shouldn’t be doing this, but then his hand races up my body, and he traps me by the neck. Just when I think he’s going to pull away, he goes in for more, and his hot tongue laps against mine like he can’t get enough. He kisses me over and over again, plunging in further and exploring every inch of my mouth before he pulls back unexpectedly and squeezes my face with one hand.

“Did…” He clamps his mouth shut and abruptly pulls his gaze from mine. “Did you drink?”

Uh-oh.

I remain quiet—mainly because I can’t catch my breath from our kiss. I’ve never felt that way from a single kiss before. Ford took my thoughts, jumbled them, and now I can’t even form a sentence.

“Taytum.” My name is a harsh sound squeezing from between his gritted teeth.

I want to go back to being Belle.

The disappointment I feel knowing that we’re back to being us is ground shaking. I try to fling his hand off my face, but he squeezes my cheeks harder, keeping me in place.

“Answer me.” The playful Ford, the one who insisted we play this little game, is gone.

“I had one tiny drink. A sip.”

“Goddamnit, Taytum! You can’t drink with diabetes! When did you even have a drink?” Ford groans and drops his hand. He quickly turns his back to me, and guilt washes away the last of my blissfulness. I know he thinks that I’m being irresponsible by having a drink, even if it wasn’t much, but that’s not true. I am well aware of my actions and the reasons behind them, and it’s not something I’m willing to explain to him.

“Calm down, Ford. And if you weren’t so entranced with the Daisy Dukes running around this bar, you would have seen me take a sip from that guy.”

Ford hurriedly turns around, and we’re both glaring at each other. I cross my arms over my heavy breasts, cursing him for turning me on so much.

What a terrible idea.

“Let’s go,” Ford snaps.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

“No,” I snap right back.

He stops right beside me, and there’s a twisted feeling digging into my lower belly that tells me to smile, just to push his buttons. When he turns his head to look at me, his glare is heated, and I can’t decide if he’s angry, turned on, or both. “I will put you over my shoulder and carry you out of this bar. Do not test me right now.” He half laughs, but I recognize his sarcasm. “Especially now.”

I open my mouth to refuse, but he stops me with the narrowing of his eyes. It isn’t often that Ford lets his guard fall and shows the true feelings behind his grin, but right now, he isn’t trying to hide.

“In fact…” he talks down to me like I’m a child. “I’ll call your parents right fucking now and tell them that you’ve been drinking.”

I gasp. He wouldn’t. My forehead furrows, and he raises an eyebrow as a challenge.

“I can make my own decisions, and if I want to take a sip of beer from a guy, I will! Stop treating me like a fucking child.”

“I would if you stopped acting like a fucking child.” Ford swarms me, and I’m pressed against the bathroom door in two seconds flat. He moves too quickly for me to react and grabs onto my arm right below my monitor. “In case you’ve forgotten, this thing is helping keep you alive.” Our eyes clash, and I can’t speak because I know I’ve struck a chord. “I’ll be damned if you do something to jeopardize your own health. I won’t lose you to your own stupidity.” He drops my arm in a huff and steps away. “Now go.”

The bathroom door flies open from his hasty movement, and he holds it open for me. When I pass by him, I drop the act because I know exactly what chord I struck, even if he doesn’t say it aloud.