Page 59 of Puck Lust

But even as my realization smacks me, so does the fact that he’s tormented by something, and whatever is sizzling my insides needs to fizzle the fuck out for now.

Sneaking a glance at him as I slow down for a red light, I feel the familiar thrum of my heart lobbing against my ribcage. His head is turned enough that I can’t see the pain in his eyes, anguish that I know flares in the deepseas of green.

My God, it hurt for me to look at him outside of the hotel, to see the sheer helplessness on his face while he sat there, all by himself.

He’s always been such a dominating force on the ice, the air around him charged with electricity, excitement, and anticipation.

Nobody in their right mind would dare look away.

I know I never did, even after he cut me with his scathing words years ago.

Shit, I never thought I’d see the day that an apology would slip from his lips.

And even after all he’s been through so far this season, I’ve never seen him so vulnerable. Not with that black eye, not in the stairwell after being verbally assaulted by those fucking haters in Ohio.

But something happened tonight. Something big. And it had everything to do with Coach Dalton, I’m convinced of that. I noticed him acting a little weird and very focused on Jack while we were talking, but I didn’t think anything of it until I found Jack cowering in a corner by himself.

Looking beaten down and broken beyond repair.

It was jarring, to say the least.

I would have done anything he wanted in those seconds when his defeated expression sliced my heart up like a mandolin.

I’d still do anything for him.

And even though a small part of me is afraid he’ll shut me down again, I’d have never said no when he asked me to take him home.

Because after all this time, despite his assholeness and pompous dickery, I’m still stuck on the guy.

I wordlessly pull into the parking garage in the basement of my building. For the time being, I’m renting a condo herewhile I look for a more permanent place. It’s private and protected from the paparazzi, so at least nobody will bother with us.

I don’t ask him any questions on the walk to my unit. The elevator ride is silent, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. It damn near chokes me while I wait for the ding that pierces the air when the doors open on the seventh floor.

Once we’re inside, I loosen my tie and turn toward him. “Do you want?—?”

But his lips swallow my words. “The only thing I want is your cock inside of me,” he mutters against my mouth, pulling on my lower lip with his teeth.

Ohhh,fuck.

Words I’ve dreamed of hearing.

And words I fear because…what happens when he’s done with me this time?

Will he shut down and walk away, leaving me drowning in one-sided emotions because he doesn’t give a shit about anything more than what I can do for him?

It doesn’t even take me a split second to decide that I don’t care.

Because I need my cock inside of him, too.

I don’t bother flicking on any lights. The room is covered in a soft glow from where the moon peeks into the floor-to-ceiling windows that line one wall. The city below is quiet, tranquil, the exact opposite of the way our frenzied hands grope and tug and fist. Our teeth crack, tongues tangled in a seductive dance, determined fingers tearing away the fabric barriers that keep us apart.

Jack yanks open my shirt, panting heavily as he breaks our kiss. Buttons pop, flying through the air. He pushes the shirt off my shoulders as he tugs open his belt buckle, then unbuttons his pants before shoving them to the floor.

I bring a hand to my mouth and lick the palm before gripping his hard cock.

“That is so fucking hot,” he moans, thrusting his hips against my fingers.

With my free hand, I grab him by the hair, fisting it tight and pulling his head closer. “Tell me whose cock this is, Jack.” I stroke him harder, my heart hammering. Precum drips over my finger as I drag it across his slit.

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