All Chapters of Puck Me Hard: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Noah’s P.O.V I was alive, that much I can tell. There was white noise around me. Indistinct sound that hummed around my subconscious, out of reach but just enough to slowly pull me back to life. Still, I lay sprawled on my bed like a broken spider-crab because it felt like my brain and skull had melted into this gross soup that’ll spill to the floor once I roll out of bed. But holy bejeezus, I was thirsty, and my head hurt and my mouth tasted evil like a cat had taken a piss in my mouth, forced me to swallow and then buried a dead rat’s carcass in it. My eyes were too tight in my head and I think my stomah was burning raw with acidic cat urine. God, my head ached in a way that started from a tingling in my lips and went up to my forehead, slowly seeping and digging into my skull. And anytime I tried to screw my eyes tighter and think of what happened last night, it hurt so fucking bad. Therefore, I now knew my brain wasn’t just gooey soup in my skull again. Something happened

Dorian’s P.O.VWe made it to the NCAA, baby. The big leagues. This wasn’t some backyard, bullshit, and the first game was in Michigan against a team that thought they owned the ice. Lucky for the Arctic Blades, they had me. I couldn’t wait to show those bastards what real players looked like.Coach put me in the startling lineup after my killer performance at practice. Guess all those extra drills, sleepless nights, and my absolute refusal to let anyone get too close paid off. “He is the best damn rookie I’ve ever trained.” I quote the coach as he announced last week Friday that our school was in the first fucking division of the NCAA.But you know what the best part was? Golden Boy himself would be leading our line. Mr. Perfect would watch me shine whether he wanted or not, and us playing together would give me every opportunity I needed to bring my plans to fruition.It was very unfortunate that Carter and I couldn’t sit together during the flight. I’d planned to tease him until he

Noah's P.O.VJust when I started to give up, Hayes bent his knees and distributed his weight between both feet. His gloved hand held the hockey stick with his top hand positioned at the top of the stick while his bottom hand was halfway down. And boom, he snapped his wrist and the goalie went jumping out of his position.But to everyone’s surprise, Hayes had faked a wrist shot. The puck was still with him! In a split second, I watched how he swiftly picked up the puck on the blade of the stick, controlling it like a lacrosse player cradling the ball.As he lifted his stick, time seemed to slow. With a flick of his wrist, Hayes tucked the puck around the post, and it soared into the top of the net, leaving the goaltender grasping at air.Holy shit!The final buzzer sounded and sealed our victory. 4-3. The guys poured onto the rink, shouting and chanting. At first, I didn’t hear what they were saying until I listened hard.“Seven!”“Seven!”“Seven!”That was Hayes' jersey number. He was

Noah’s P.O.V I woke up before my alarm. It wasn’t a lazy stirring where you slowly became aware of your surroundings. My body jerked to consciousness like it had just escaped a horrible nightmare. My chest felt tight. My throat, dry. My skin, hot. The room was still dark left for a faint pink glow creeping in through the hotel blind, and for a second, I lay there, staring at the ceiling as I tried to catch my breath with my mind blank. Blissfully, mercifully blank. And then I moved. A sharp ache pulsed through my thighs and I instantly remembered I never got to fully massage my ripped muscles yesterday, and just like that, last night crashed back into my memory like a punch to my stomach. I went rigid. Someone shifted behind me, letting out a sleepy sigh and without looking I knew it was Dorian. Jesus. My stomach flipped over. I shoved the sheets back, moving fast and ignoring the way my body protested. Every inch of me felt wrung out, and used, like my skin wasn’t sit

Dorian’s P.O.VNoah Carter was a fucking corward.I’d known it since we were kids, Knew it when he watched me get my face shoved into a toilet, when he saw those rich little pricks lay into me and did nothing. I’d known it when he swallowed his words instead of standing up for me, choosing to save face instead.And now, years later, nothing had changed.He was still biting his tongue and pretending like he didn’t want my hands on him. Like he hadn’t leaked in his jeans just minutes ago. The dude was so responsive, it would be embarrassing if the sight didn’t make me want to cum untouched.“I’m straight, Hayes.” The words echoed in my brain as I stormed back toward my dorm, my hands clenched into fists and my teeth grinding in anger. He was such a bad liar. Honestly, I should be feeling fucking smug right now. I had him exactly where I wanted–desperate, squirming under the influence of his own desire for me. He’d practically fucking whimpered in my hands.But all I could think about w