Lahat ng Kabanata ng Puck Me Hard: Kabanata 61 - Kabanata 70

Dorian's P.O.VI didn't sleep last night.Because every time I closed my eyes, I saw Noah on the ice, head tilted back as he laughed hard. I spent the whole goddamn night thinking about Noah and that guy. Ethan. Captain of the Magenta Mavericks. That pretty boy captain from Wisconsin with his stupid Magenta Mavericks Jersey and his perfect game. Ethan skated like he owned the rink, and Noah...skated like he was playing just for him. He was such a fucking asshole.And apparently, he wanted Noah too.I couldn’t unsee it. The scrimmage yesterday was supposed to be a light pre-game warmup, just two teams feeling each other out before the big match tomorrow. But the second Noah skated up for the faceoff at the center ice, it was like he and Ethan were in their own little bubble. They circled each other, two predators smelling blood, but instead of going for the throat, Noah was grinning, bottom lip caught between his teeth type of smile. Hell, if I didn’t know better, I’d have thought the

Dorian's P.O.V I shoved through bodies like a man possessed, shoulder-checking some drunk idiot into the bar-top and ignoring the sound of his glass shattering when it hit the floor. My skin was crawling and I was close to having a panic attack because I couldn't see Noah anymore. He'd gone into that back door with Ethan. and Ethan, was the fucking problen because I didn't trust him. Finally, I got close enough to that door and slammed it open, swallowing hard when I saw the hallway it opened into. It was a dark hallway with red lights that barely cut through the shadows, washing the place in an eerie feeling, like I'd steped into hell's waiting room. as I walked on, I saw it stretched on forever, lined with doors on either side. None of them were marked. None of them were telling me where the fuck Noah was. My pulse was jackhammering in my chest as I stalked forward and yanked open the first door.. Jesus Christ. There were two guys in the room. one was on his knees, sucking th

Noah's P.O.VThe rink was empty when I got there, just as I'd expected. Most of the floodlights were off and the single ones on were off in the corner, casting long shadows across the ice. The air was cold, even through my jacket, and my breath was making white puffs in front of me. November had barely begun, but the first snowfall of the season had begun to dust the ground outside.Anyway, I moved silently over the ice, squinting until I finally saw Dorian standing near the box where players' relatives usually sat during the games, gripping his hockey stick like he'd just finished a game. He was drenched in sweat, even in this cold, as he slowly moved his skates from side to side anytime he rocked forward. I could tell he'd been here for a while, probably hitting pucks into an empty net, over and over again as he tried to burn off whatever storm had been brewing inside him.However, that storm was still there and I could feel it.He turned at the sound of my footsteps when I got clos

Noah’s P.O.V.A few days later.Topping Dorian had been one of the best fucking experiences of my life. It was hot, overwhelming, and so intense I was still thinking about it days later but Jesus Christ, it was way too much work. The prep alone took patience I did not have, and the actual fucking? Making sure he was comfortable, making it feel good enough that he’d stop gritting his teeth and start falling apart under me? That shit took effort and self control.So sue me if I decided I was going to be a pillow princess from now on.Yes, I got the term from Imogen, who absolutely would not stop texting me about my sex life the second she found out. I hadn't meant to tell her but I was so fucking giddy that when we hung out two days ago, she noticed and grilled me endlessly until I told her everything. I could hear her voice in my head right now, teasing me and calling me a lazy lover and a pillow princess who just wanted to lay there and have their partner do all the work.And I couldn

NOAH'S P.O.VPractice was gold. We were prepping for our fourth game in the regionals—home against Denver—and everything was clicking. My assists were piling up, threading perfect passes through tight gaps, while Dorian was a fucking sniper, his wrist shots cutting through the air like a damn blade. The entire team was playing out of their minds—Matt, Jaxon, and Greg locking it down on defense, yes Matt finally was unbenched by the Coach so he's back on games. while Cody, Eli, and Shawn kept up the pressure up front. By the time Coach blew the final whistle, we were drenched in sweat, but the energy was electric and it felt like we were already on the ice for tomorrow's game, beating Denver out of the ice. I'd never felt as confident in our team until this season who was ironically my last in Bridgewater.“Four more games to the Frozen Four,” Coach told us, voice gruff but charged with something close to pride. “Keep this up, and that national title is fucking ours.”I felt so good th