Page 19 of Pucked Up (Punk as Puck #2)

CHAPTER

NINE

BODEN

I felt like I was losing my mind. I knew who I was, what I wanted and what I was willing to accept.

I didn’t compromise on those things ever.

I would have rather died. The closest I’d ever come was at the Paralympics, letting Ford and Tucker convince me to pick a fight, and that had cost me almost everything.

I swore I would never be so reckless again.

So why the fuck was I in a small, two-person shower stall at the rink where anyone could walk in, literally resting on Hugo’s thigh as he washed his come from the crack of my ass? Why was I letting him run his obnoxiously strong hands over my body?

Why the fuck did I like it so much?

The day had been shit already. I’d woken up with spasms so bad I was tempted to head to the ER for a couple of shots to calm my muscles down, I fell several times in the kitchen trying to make my protein shake, my car started making a weird noise that even I could hear—and the last thing I wanted to do was call my dad and ask him for money to fix it.

Then, there was a department meeting letting me know that my office was getting moved into the physics building—which would have been fine except that it was one of the oldest buildings on campus.

It was notorious for having broken elevators and wheelchair lifts, no ramps, and the disabled automatic door buttons never worked because asshole eighteen-year-olds liked to kick them on their way out of the building.

My protests went largely unheard, and when I got into my office, there was a stack of moving boxes waiting for me.

And the cherry on the goddamn sundae? My father called right as I was heading to the rink after work.

“There’s going to be a celebration banquet and event for the PPHL in two weeks, and I want you there. If you want a chance at ever being drafted—” he said, his voice filtering into my hearing aids from the Bluetooth. I couldn’t stand the sound of him in my head.

“Yes. Yeah. I get it.”

I hated that he was right, that I really did need to rub elbows if I was going to have a shot at getting picked up on a team.

I also hated that he liked to parade me around these things like I was some kind of disabled trophy kid.

I’d ruined my chances of ever getting in on my own merit, even if Hugo was still promising he could do that for me .

But I was tired of waiting.

And that had fueled my mood when I got onto the ice. It was made worse every time I looked at Hugo and remembered what he’d done to me. And how he made me feel.

And how much I was still craving it. Craving him .

When he ordered me into his office, I told myself I was going to tell him to get fucked and not let him toy with me.

Instead, I’d melted like snow on a warm spring day.

He had me like putty in his fucking hands with a desperate cock and a sore ass and feeling better and more centered than I’d felt in so, so long.

I detested him, but I couldn’t get enough.

And now, I was here under a stream of warm water, wishing the night would never end.

“I have to go,” I told him after what felt like a short forever of basking under a warm spray. I pushed at him gently. As much as I wanted to piss him off because I was still convinced it would make me feel better, I didn’t have it in me. He’d fucked my energy clean from my body.

Hugo stared at me for a long beat, then nodded and turned the water off. He was careful with me without being infantilizing. He helped me to a bench and let me dry and dress myself without offering to help, though I could tell he wanted to.

But I was pretty sure it wasn’t because he was afraid I was incapable. The man clearly got off on spoiling his lovers.

I wasn’t his lover though. I could not let myself get confused. That would only lead to wanting this more, and I intended to use him exactly the way he was offering himself: as a way to scratch an itch.

As a vent.

As a method of calming myself down so I didn’t ruin my chances of fulfilling my dreams before they were realized.

My muscles had stiffened back up with tension, so it took me an annoyingly long moment to redress, and I could still smell him in my clothes. I wanted to bury my face in it and relive the fantasy of what we’d just done.

He was everything I’d ever wanted in a partner. He was the one person who knew how to give me what I needed—how to take control and allow me to let go without making it feel like I didn’t have a choice.

And he wasn’t mine to keep.

Sucking in a breath, I let it out on a trembling exhale as I finished strapping on my orthotics and got my trousers over them, then my feet in my shoes.

I hadn’t realized he’d brought my crutches with us when he carried me across the hall, but now they were waiting for me, propped against the wall next to the lockers.

Bowing my head, I searched for my voice. This time, I didn’t want to walk away without a word. It had felt cruel the first time, and I really wasn’t a cruel man. “Thank you.”

I wasn’t looking at him, and I didn’t have my hearing aids back in yet, but I still heard his rustling pause.

He cleared his throat. “Anytime.”

“You mean that?” This time, I did look up. I wanted to know. I wanted to be certain that this wasn’t just for me. That it wasn’t out of some misguided sense of pity.

His gaze locked on mine, and then he stepped closer and knelt beside me. My guts twisted with a renewed, fiery want the moment he was on his knees for me. I was not going to act on it though. Not again.

At least, not today.

“Mon petit feu,” he started.

My eyes narrowed. “Must you?”

His lips twitched. “When no one else can hear? Yes.”

I wanted to argue, but deep down, I knew I was going to let him have that.

He waited another beat, then said, “You’re difficult to resist. It isn’t making my job to coach you easy. I have never crossed a line like that before.”

I had no idea what to say to that. I didn’t know his history—I didn’t want to know. More details were dangerous because I’d end up finding out he rescued kittens, or herded fuzzy mini-cows, or ran a petting zoo for cancer kids or something.

Then I’d want to fuck my career right up the ass and just marry the guy.

Oh my God, shut up, Boden. Shut up.

“Boden?”

I blinked up at him and realized I’d been silent for a long time and probably missed whatever else he had to say. “Sorry. I couldn’t hear you.”

A half-lie. My hearing wasn’t great, but in a room like this, I could make out nearly everything he said. I was just, you know, lost in the fact that I was probably going to fall for this fucking guy, which would ruin everything.

“I need to go,” I said quickly. Reaching for my crutches, I heaved myself to my feet and cleared my throat loudly. “Thanks, um. Again.”

He didn’t respond other than a nod. His face looked torn, like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t stop me as I made my way into the hallway, checked left and right to make sure no one else was around, then hurried to my car as fast as my spasming legs would let me go.

I hadn’t had a seizure in years. My last one was so far back I could barely remember the details, but walking in after my evening with Hugo, I started to wonder if the foggy sensation was the start of one. I took a breath, sat on the couch, and waited.

And waited. But after an hour, nothing happened. It wasn’t shit in my brain misfiring. It was the fact that I’d just gotten fucked within an inch of my life, my ass spanked raw, and all by the one man I didn’t want to want. And I’d loved every godforsaken second of it.

But it also left me feeling weird and twisted up—still a little horny and also very alone in the empty condo.

Tucker and Amedeo weren’t around, and I knew it was only going to be a few months at best before Tucker untwisted his panties and told me that he wanted to move out.

I’d been preparing for it for a while. He and Amedeo had been talking about getting a place for all of us to stay, but I wasn’t deaf enough to live with a couple of dudes who fucked like they needed dick to live.

Which was great for Tucker. The guy had been through it in ways I never wanted to imagine. I’d never known what it was like to be able-bodied. He and I had both been robbed of the chance to play in the NHL—though from everything I’d heard, even that wouldn’t have pleased his parents.

But I’d been living with the disappointment since birth. He was still getting over his accident. Oh, and his shit-stain of a brother who stole his girlfriend from right under his visually impaired eyes. Pretty sure there was a special place in hell for people like Killian.

So I understood why he and Amedeo wanted to fuck like desperate, rabid, horny rabbits. And I understood why they wanted to be loud about it. Especially Tucker, who couldn’t be quiet to save his life.

But yeah, it was getting a little exhausting, and I was starting to get headaches from how often I had to put on noise-canceling headphones.

Not to mention, it would be nice to strip down to literally nothing and just exist with my dick and balls out, the fan wafting over my skin on a hot summer day.

I’d been living with Tucker since we got back from Beijing with our tails between our legs and realized that he was living off loans and other bullshit to make ends meet.

I had a nice fat inheritance from my grandparents and an okay salary, so I could carry the financial weight for him and give him time to breathe.

It was only in the last few weeks that Tucker had gotten the PPHL coaching gig, which allowed him to breathe easier when rent was due.

He could afford a nice house now, and he had Amedeo to drive him around.

I think he was worried I’d feel like I was being left behind, but frankly, the idea of being able to sit on the couch and jerk myself silly without worrying about the front door opening was worth adjusting to living alone again.

Even if I would miss him. And his wide-eyed, perpetually anxious, not-quite-husband.

Jerking off sounded good right about now.

I really was still horny as fuck just thinking about what Hugo and I had gotten up to.

I could still feel a faint sting in my ass where he’d smacked me and the ghost of his fingers washing me clean of his come in the shower.

I stood up and headed to my room because while Tucker was probably staying over with Deo, I was done with the days of us walking in on each other with our dicks in our hands.

I closed and locked my bedroom door, then used the warming lube Micah had gotten me as a gift a couple of months ago.

I hadn’t expected to like it, and frankly, I didn’t really.

But there was something about the idea of keeping my cock warm while I remembered how impossibly hot Hugo had been when I was sinking inside him the night we met that had me tingly all over.

I settled myself with my triangle pillow behind me, two round pillows under each knee to keep my legs apart and my hips relaxed, and then I leaned back. The warmth of the lube started the moment I closed my hand around my dick.

My hips twitched, and my calves started to spasm. I didn’t have the best range of motion in either of my wrists, but I could squeeze tight enough to get myself off, and that’s all I needed. Hugo had already fucked all my anger out of me.

I just needed one last, tiny orgasm to get me through the night.

Just one last push so I could sleep.

I breathed out and pictured the look on Hugo’s face when I sank inside him. It was bliss. It was ecstasy.

My hand sped up, and my eyes slammed closed as my body reached toward its peak. “Fuck,” I gasped. “Fuck, fuck. Hugo, more, please…”

BZZT BZZT!

BZZT BZZT !

“Fuck my life!” I let go of my dick as it started to flag a little, breathing hard as my phone had a mini tantrum on the nightstand. I could see Micah’s name on the screen, and I knew that fucker would only call me if it was an emergency.

I tried to sound like I hadn’t been jerking myself raw when I answered. “Hey, bud. What’s up?”

“Sorry to interrupt your little fuck fest or whatever you were up to,” he said. There was no way he could know. “But I need some help. I’m kind of stranded.”

I sat up a little too quickly, my head spinning. “What? Where? What happened?”

“Bad date. Had to punch him in the balls and run. Now, I’m on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, and I can’t get a Lyft to pick up my request. Save me, Obi-Wan.”

I sighed and moved my pillows to swing my legs over the side of the bed. “Send me a pin for your location.”

“I knew I always liked you best,” he said with a heavy sigh of relief. “See you soon.”

The line went dead, and I flopped back, staring down at my slick, limp dick. There wasn’t a chance I was going to be able to get it up again, and it wasn’t like I’d leave Micah stranded on the side of the road. So, my fantasies about Hugo would have to wait.

Maybe until the next time I saw him.

When, maybe , they wouldn’t be fantasies at all.