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

I send Taytum a reassuring smile when we enter her room. She’s looking at me with little hints of skepticism, and when I reach forward to pull her hair out of her bun, she quickly jolts backward and tries to stop me.

“What are you doing?” she rushes out.

“Will you stop?” I ask through a chuckle. “Don’t you trust me?”

I flick her bottom lip the second it pops out with her pout. She’s used to my endless flirting, just like I’m used to her attitude.

Her voice follows me as I walk into her closet and scan the overflowing racks of clothes. I have no idea how one person can have so many articles of clothing, but toward the end of the rack, I find exactly what I’m looking for. I toss out the outfit along with her cowgirl boots and try my hardest to shove away the memory of the last time she wore them.NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

Taytum + slutty cowgirl Halloween costume = hell.

I clear my head and throat as I walk out of her closet. She’s holding up her best pair of skinny jeans–the pair that puts any peach to shame–and the little top that I know looks good on her.

“Your outfit for tonight.” I take a seat on her bed. “Now get dressed.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to hide my smile. I know my tone will irritate her because Taytum hates being bossed around, especially by me.

“What does this have to do with me and dating? I thought you said you had a plan to help me.” My mouth opens to explain, but Taytum squeezes her eyes shut and stops me by holding her hand up. “I swear, if you say something like you’re ‘showing me the ropes’ or ‘teaching me how to ride a horse,’ I will throw one of these boots at your head. I am not dressing up in a cowgirl outfit just for a pun, Ford.”

I laugh out loud and kind of hate that I didn’t think of using those jokes myself. “I’m taking you out. So, get dressed, and I’ll fill you in on the rest of the plan when we get there.”

She stares at me, and I stare right back. I know how stubborn she can be, so instead of wasting any more time, I pop up from her bed with her girly scent following my every movement, and I rip her shirt off in a single whoosh.

“Ford!”

I move back when Taytum tries to slap my chest. I quickly bend down and grab the shirt I threw at her moments ago off the floor prepared to pull it down over her head before I fumble at the sight.

Pretend it’s a bathing suit, Ford. It’s just a bathing suit. 

Taytum’s light-pink bra has suddenly grown hands, and they’re wrapping around my throat. I choke at the sight of her perfect creamy mounds and the way they spill over the thin lace to the point that I can’t breathe. I discreetly clear my throat, and with some well-honed self-restraint, I pull myself together enough and shove the top over her head to hide her perfect body from my untrustworthy thoughts.

I start to button the little cropped shirt but stop when I notice that she’s gone eerily silent. Her eyes dart to her left arm, and anger fills me when I realize her focus.

“Knock it off,” I demand.

Her blue eyes flare with anger when she peers at me, but I’m angrier than she is for acting self-conscious in front of me. My hands fall to her hips, and I spin her quickly to walk us up to her mirror. “Never do that again.”

I’m surprised at how gruff my voice is and even more surprised when Taytum doesn’t snap back with some kind of rebuttal at my tone. I snag her stare in the mirror before I shift my attention and look at our reflection.

She’s half-dressed, and her long, messy hair is hanging over her shoulders, hiding those perky breasts that I couldn’t stop staring at a second ago. I’m towering behind her with my hands on her hips, and I hate that, for a split second, I picture her as mine instead of my best friend’s little sister who I’m forced to keep in a tightly tied little box that has the word danger printed on the front.

I snake my hand across her body and place it beneath the glucose monitor. “Stop acting like this is a flaw instead of a perfect addition to this killer body, Taytum.”

I nearly twitch from the compliment I give her but it’s the truth, and she clearly needs to hear it.

“Perfect addition?” She continues to stare at her arm, and I want to growl, just to make her look at me. “It’s…the furthest thing from sexy. Can you imagine some guy taking off my shirt and the first thing he sees is this?”

“This”—I circle the device with my finger—“keeps you alive,” I remind her. “So, to me, it’s a fucking gift.”

Taytum says nothing, and the longer we stand looking into the mirror with nothing but our heartbeats to fill the space, the more I feel obligated to prove to her that she’s perfect–which isn’t in my plans for this evening—or ever.

“Spin.”

Taytum doesn’t budge, which isn’t surprising.

I forcefully turn her, and my fingers slip into her tight leggings. In a single whoosh, I shove them down her smooth legs, ending at her ankles, and rip them from her cute little feet.

My teeth clank together when I turn and grab her ripped skinny jeans that make every guy salivate, and I beg myself not to drop my eyes to her panties when I turn back around, but I’m not that self-disciplined.

Matching bra and panties. Fuck me.

I hold out her jeans, and she snatches them with frustration. As soon as she buttons them, I move her to the bed and make her sit. I slip the cowgirl boots onto her feet, and I’m honestly a little surprised when she doesn’t kick me. Her high-pitched yelp makes me chuckle when I pull her to her feet. “You ready?”

She throws her hands up before they land on her hips. “I don’t know! Am I?”

“Oh, you’re ready.” I wink at her, and we head for the door.

To make myself feel better for the dirty little thoughts coursing through my head at the sight of her in nothing but a bra and a pair of panties, I glance behind my shoulder at her. “Give me some space, will ya? I don’t want your hot sorority sisters to get the wrong idea and think we’re together or anything.”

Taytum’s eye roll is the first of many for tonight, I’m sure.