Page 7 of Pucking Stepbrother
Without waiting for him to move, I take a swing and clock him on the side of his face. The instant ache in my knuckle’s rushes through my arm and into my shoulder as his head flings back and one of his teammates manages to catch him before he hits the ground. Coiling my fists, I watch his features morph into rage. His muscled arms wrap around me as he tackles me into the seats, making my back slam against the hard plastic. I let out a groan and I manage to dodge his fist, causing him to punch the plastic chair with all his force.
The fight is over before it starts. Asher is hauled back off me by his coach and told to walk it off. The coach holds out his handto help me up, but I manage to get up on my own, brushing myself off and pretending like my whole back isn’t aching like a motherfucker
“Mr. Huntington, I’m coach Lenox. It’s a pity we meet under these circumstances, but here we are.” He drips with authority in his sharp suit, chiselled jaw, and don’t fuck with me glare. He looks younger than my dad and has slicked back dark brown hair and a set of dark eyes to match.
“Here we are.” I stare at him, waiting for him to send me out of the stadium.
“I don’t know your circumstances, young man. But I know you’re one of the best players from the southern district schools. I looked up your stats and I have to say I’m impressed.”
“Okay.” I try to pretend like this isn’t making me uncomfortable in front of the remaining team members.
“Practice is at seven in the morning sharp. I expect you to be there, you can borrow gear for all I care.” He places his palm on my chest as he takes a step away from me. “Don’t be late.” He gives me one tap before stalking away.
“Hey man, I’m Theo, the captain.” A blond guy holds out his hand for me to shake.
He has tattoos to rival mine and I instantly know I’m going to like this guy. “Hey. Nate.” I nod and shake his hand.
“I hear you’re now a part of our frat.” He looks at me carefully.
“Apparently. Seriously, dude, I’m only here for a little while until I get my shit sorted. I won’t cause you all any grief.”
“You better not,” he chuckles and then looks at me like he might gut me if I step out of line. “Just kidding. Look, I know you and Asher are now stepbrothers and he can fly off the handle all the fucking time, but if you abide by the house rules, I really don’t give a fuck if you two are at each other’s throats constantly. Just keep me out of it. Deal?”
“Yeah, man. Deal. Thanks for accepting me. I know the ins and outs of becoming a member and living in the house. I won’t break your house rules.”
“We’ve only allowed to reside there on one condition. You survive the entry tests.” He winks at me and his team mates all holler and punch the air.
“Great. Looking forward to it.” I raise my eyebrows in anticipation of what torture they’re going to inflict on me.
“Don’t be late for practice. Coach doesn’t take no for an answer, if you know what I mean.” Theo punches me in the arm, hard enough to send a warning, and stalks off with his teammates trailing behind him.
“Fuck,” I groan and drop back into the seat. The last thing I want is to be on the ice hockey team, but maybe the distraction will be good. Getting pummeled and used at the team’s punching bag might make my time here go a little faster.
I’m mentally and physically exhausted; all I want to do is crawl under a cover and sleep for a week. I must doze off thanks to not fucking sleeping properly the last few nights and I’m jolted awake by being flung back into the chair and held down while my wrists are tied behind me.
“Wakey, wakey, big boy.” Asher’s voice fills my ears, and his ice hockey helmet covered face comes into view as I struggle against the restraints. His face hovers inches from mine and I can’t help but think about how good his full lips would look wrapped around my cock.
Trying to move my legs to kick him away from me, I realise the sneaky fuckers have already tied my ankles to the chair while I was asleep. “Fuck you.” I spit at him.
A depraved grin spreads across his face. “Nuh-uh, that’s not how we treat our siblings.” He stands at full height, and I notice he’s in his shoulder pads and hockey training pants still and noshirt. Saliva pools in my mouth at the sight of his muscles as he flexes his biceps in front of me.
“What the fuck do you want?” I jerk my legs and arms again in the hopes I’ll loosen the ties, but it’s useless, the restraints are too tight. Glancing around, I see that a few of the team are watching and there’s a few guys I’ve never seen before standing around watching.
He straightens and taps his finger on his helmet as though he’s thinking this through. His zipper is at my eye level, and I can’t help but stare at his bulge through his tight pants. Licking my lips as thoughts of bending him over the railing circle through my depraved mind, I watch in fascination as he adjusts himself in his pants and bends back down to look me in the eyes.
“Is that what you want, trailer trash? A dicking from the elite?” He gropes his dick in his large hand again and squeezes his bulge in front of my face, cocking his thick eyebrow, watching my reaction.
My dick hardens in my pants at the sight of his hands on himself, and I allow my gaze to roam over his muscled body until it collides with his caustic glare. Narrowing my eyes at him, knowing fully well his glare hides his true needs. “You’re too scared, puck boy.” I tease, testing what will finally make him snap.
Gripping my hair in his fist he throws my head back aggressively, my shoulder blades arching backward over the back of the chair, sending shooting pains through me.
“Move him onto the ice,” he winks at me and steps back as three of the guys I’ve not met yet rip the chair I’m tied to from the bolts in the floor and carry me down onto the ice. They place me in the center under the big screens and walk back off the ice and out the exit.
Watching as the ice hockey captain grabs Asher at the nape of the neck, bumping his forehead to Asher’s helmet, beforestalking out of the building with the rest of the guys, has me on edge. The lights switch off in the whole of the stadium, apart from the one spotlight above me. The amber glow barely illuminates the area around me, and I squint to see if Asher left with them.
“Fucking piss weak hazing, you amateurs,” I shout into the cold air. I can feel the cool of the ice slowly permeating my clothes and I know all too well that the thermostat has been turned up to ensure the ice is kept frozen overnight. Fucking great.
I hear a chuckle behind me, and I crane my neck to see Asher approaching with a hockey stick. “Piss weak, hey?” He drops the puck onto the ice and smashes it at me, the brutal force of it hitting me in the side of my leg.