Page 49 of Puck the Coach's Son
“I want to be here.”
“Good.”
“I want you to?—”
His hands on my face don't move.
“Yes?”
“I don't know what the thing is called.”
His mouth does something that's almost a laugh but isn't a laugh. He doesn't laugh at me. He's decided not to let me hear it yet.
“That's okay,” he says.
“It is?”
“Yes.”
His forehead comes down to mine.
“You have to tell me what to do.”
“I will.”
“I don't know how.”
His palm warms against my cheek.
“I know you don't. That's the whole point.”
He takes a breath.
He lets it out.
His voice changes. Quieter. Slower. A weight in it that wasn't there on the pier or in the hall or at the door. Something he's been holding back. He's not holding it anymore.
“I've been at a run since the second you walked into the Guild Arena,” he says. “Do you understand what I'm telling you?”
“No.”
His jaw works.
“I've been furious since your dad put you on the ice.”
“I know?—”
“Not at you. At him. At what he's doing. At the fact of you. The fact of you is a thing that's been eating me all week, Theo, and I'm done pretending it isn't. I've got one way to put it down tonight. Do you understand?”
His thumb stills against my jaw.
“Tell me.”
“I want to put my cock in your mouth.”
My knees do the thing again.
I'm standing in the middle of a rug the color of a bad hotel, and Maddox Creed has just told me, in a voice I've never heard any man use on another person, that he wants to put his cock in my mouth.
