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

I should have named her something other than Belle, because with the way Taytum is moving her hips against some dude, she is the furthest thing from a Southern belle.

It’s typical of her to go against me in every scenario, so I knew she’d throw a fit when I offered to be her test dummy, but I didn’t expect to feel this cagey over watching her dance with some random guy, considering I mentally prepared myself for this. I can’t deny the strong urge to get in between them, though, and it has nothing to do with her brother’s protective streak rubbing off on me.

The song changes, and I should be paying attention to the two chicks dancing in front of me and how their tempo is nothing short of sexy, but I’m too busy staring at the sweat forming on Taytum’s hairline. My mouth runs dry when the guy leans down and says something inaudible in her ear, and I have to turn away to keep myself from doing something stupid.

This is for her. 

I brought Taytum here, without the watchful eyes of our peers, so she could embrace her freedom. It was supposed to be about liberation. It is supposed to loosen her up, yet I want to reach my hands out and trap her body to mine.

I take the brunette’s hand, and I spin her around, only to stumble and let her go at the last second. Taytum’s mouth is being ravished by the guy she’s dancing with, and I can’t breathe.

My heart falls to the floor, and my blood runs hot. The girl I let go of recovers from our stumble and starts dancing again, but I impulsively send her flying into Taytum and her boyfriend. They break apart instantly, and she sends me a glare, but I can’t help but drop my eyes and give her mouth a once-over.

The pink lipstick I watched her smear on her lips on the way to the bar is gone, and I’m annoyed. I want to wipe the remnants of her off his mouth with my fist.

Fuck. Stop.

My jaw locks, but I try my best to pull my shit together. “Howdy,” I say to Taytum, acting like I don’t know her. “Sorry about that.”

Her swollen lips fall into a scowl.

“What’s your name?” I ask, refusing to let go of her attention.

Taytum clears her throat. The guy she was dancing with keeps a hold of the brunette I practically threw at them, and I hope he takes her and gives me Taytum in exchange. “Belle.”

I raise a brow, and we stare at each other for a few seconds before her shoulders drop slightly, and a sweet sigh flies from her mouth. “What’s your name?” she asks.

Oh, are we playing the game now? I hold my hand out and step in front of another guy who has lined up to dance with her. I repeat my earlier line, but this time, the humor is gone. “Anyone you want me to be.”

Taytum tries to hold back a smile, but she fails. When her hand lands in mine, everything suddenly feels right.

I spin her around and chase her girly laughter. I pull her in close, and she rubs against the front of me, and just like every other time I’ve danced with her over the years, I regret it instantly.

Taytum reaches up, and I lower my head so she can grab my hat. She puts it on her head, and we dance for so long we’re both sweating and out of breath. I do a quick scan of the room and make sure there aren’t any wandering eyes that belong at Bexley U and spin her to face me. I take her arms and put them over my shoulders like we’re high-schoolers again, dancing at prom.

“Come closer, Belle.” I grin when she erases the space between us. My mouth is right beside her ear when I tip my chin lower. “Good work. But now what?”

Her voice is a rasp as she says, “What do you mean?”

“What’s your next step?” I snake my arm around her lower back. The small space between us crackles, and I wonder if she feels it too. “You’ve danced long and hard with me after I stole you away…so now what? What do you do next? This is practice, remember? So, what’s your next step if you were trying to score me?”

I feel her smile against the crook of my neck. I get a whiff of her shampoo, and my abs tighten. Shit. “Why did you do that?”

I pull away to get some distance between us. “Do what?”

“Why did you steal me away? I thought you weren’t going to interfere.”

A rough swallow works itself down my throat as I try to come up with a good excuse. “You don’t seem mad about it.”© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

She scoffs lightly to conceal the truth, but it doesn’t work. All I can think about is how cute she looks in my cowboy hat.

“Were you jealous, Ford?” She’s teasing me, and typically, I’d tease her back, but her flirty smile and glittering blue eyes do something wild to me.

“I wouldn’t say I feel jealous when I see you with another guy,” I answer truthfully because I know how it feels to be jealous, but I’ve moved past jealousy when it comes to her. I feel something much more dangerous.

My arm tightens against her lower back as I creep my other hand up her body and cup her warm cheek. There’s fire in my veins with our close proximity. There’s no one around that can bring me back to reality and remind me that she’s Emory’s little sister and the daughter of two people that I owe most of my life to. Taytum is gasoline to me, and I’ve never burned the way I burn with her.

“Then what would you say you feel? Because that was totally something an ex-boyfriend would do. Not my brother’s best friend who swore he would help me get laid.”

I grip her face a little tighter, and her blonde hair gets trapped beneath my fingers. The word flows out of my mouth without restraint. “Possessive.”

The air shifts around us. Taytum jolts in my grip from my truth, and the little grin that she was wearing a few seconds ago disappears when she registers what I just said.

“I feel so fucking possessive when it comes to you.”

Fuck. Shut up. 

I’m not drunk, but I’m speaking the truth like I am.

“Possessive…” She toys around with the word a few times, and I hate myself for letting it slip.

“It’s hard to let someone kiss these lips.” I lift my thumb and rub the soft skin. My hand has a mind of its own, and I’m trying to lock my muscles so I stop giving away all my dirty little secrets, but Taytum is pulling them out of me one by one with the unexpected surprise I can see swimming behind her baby blues.

Shit. I have to fix this.

“Stop looking at me like that, Belle.” I wink and hope, for both of our sakes, that she buys my act of pretending I’m in character and that this is all a little game.

Taytum blinks a couple times, and I see the realization click.

“Are you still playing the game?” I ask.

She looks away, and I wait with a breath trapped in my chest. There is a part of me that wants to take back everything I just said if she, even for a second, thinks that it’s true, but the other part of me wants her to keep playing the game just so we can take it a step further.

“Walker.”

I pause. “What?”

“You said you’ll be anyone I want you to be, so your name is Walker.” Taytum’s warm fingers snap onto my wrist, and she pulls my arm snug around her slim waist. She pushes us back together like that’s where we belong. “I’m Belle. And you’re Walker.”

Relief settles onto my shoulders, and although the plan was in the back of my head the entire night, the moment I saw her in those boots, I knew I was going to regret this night come tomorrow morning.

But still, I run with it.

“Okay, Belle.” My voice is strained, and my hands itch to touch parts of her body that I refuse to let myself fantasize about. “Then, what’s next? You have me. What are you going to do with me?”

Taytum parts her lips. I zero in on her bow-shaped mouth and nearly buckle at the knees when she smiles.

“A friend once told me to take what I want, so that’s what I’m going to do.”