Pucking Obsessed (Bay Rebels #4)

Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Captain’s Hall, Freedom

E den

“Stop offering to resign.” Robyn points the spoon that’s coated in thick strawberry jam at me warningly. “Is that a reflex for you? Whoops, I let a virus onto the computer…I resign. I accidentally triggered the haters…I resign. What will it be next? I used too many yellow Post-its…I resign?”

I don’t reply.

Partly because there’s no such thing as using too many Post-its — ridiculous.

Mainly because the words burn my throat.

It’s been hard to speak, since I scrolled through the thousands of hate-filled comments online.

I caused those.

I didn’t speak until I was twelve. It took years of support from my twin and adoptive parents to put more than two words together. Sometimes, my throat feels like it’s closing up, and I can’t force the words out.

Instead, I focus on boxing up the fruit scones that I’ve just baked.

It’s hard to bake with one arm in a sling. But I’ve become used to it by now and I won’t let any obstacle stop me.

One set of scones with the jam and cream that Robyn is already diving into are for dessert. The other set are to take with me, when I visit Cody in his cottage tonight.

That’s what friends do. Shay told me that. They take each other gifts.

He suggested beer. Cody and I are in a Bakers of Bay Rebels online WhatsApp chat, however, and he’s been asking about my mum’s special English scone recipe.

Cody will prefer the scones. I want to give him what he’s been hinting that he’s keen to try.

I don’t want him to stop talking to me. I think that’s how these groups work, if you keep your best cake recipes secret.

I’ve never been invited into a WhatsApp chat before. I’m surprisingly unwilling for Cody to kick me out of it.

Is this friendship?

Transactional chats online?

Visiting someone and taking them shit?

I don’t understand it but I’m trying.

D’Angelo is the first person to call himself my friend.

It may be true.

I don’t know why.

Cody is the second person. I’m trying to believe that but I also know that I’m not likable whatever Robyn insists.

Cody is probably only putting in an effort because of my hurt shoulder or because he’s Robyn’s brother.

It makes me feel like I may be a real person, however, rather than my twin’s shadow, for the first time in my life.

I want so fucking much for that to be true.

The kitchen is flooded with warm afternoon light through the wide, bay window behind the oak table. It looks out over the forested mountains. The high ceilings are vaulted with beams.

I wrinkle my nose at the buttery, spicy aroma that fills the kitchen. It reminds me of all the times that I baked these scones with Mum.

Homesickness washes through me.

I didn’t think I could experience that for a place where I barely felt like I existed.

No one spoke to me. No one noticed that I was there.

Perhaps, I truly wasn’t a real person who deserved to be seen, until I came to America.

I run my hand through my slicked back hair.

Mum couldn’t afford to buy us cakes and treats, but these scones were cheap to make.

Shay would bounce with excitement to discover that Mum and I had woken up at dawn to bake on a Sunday, so that he’d have scones to eat after hockey practice.

I loved to make my brother happy. I’d have died to make him smile.

Is it strange that now I feel the same about Robyn?

She’s smiling already as she perches on the vast kitchen’s marble counter, swinging her legs.

I watch her pretty tongue curl out and lick over the spoon.

My cock hardens.

I glance away, turning to put the lids on the boxes harder than needed.

I’m wearing a I’LL FEED ALL YOU PUCKERS hockey cooking apron over black leather trousers and gray t-shirt.

I never doubted my love of leather trousers, until I fell in love with Robyn. Now, my cock regrets my style choices.

Robyn groans as she licks off the last of the strawberry jam.

I try not to let my own discomfort show on my face.

I’m good at hiding pain. I’ve had a lot of practice.

Then Robyn points the spoon at me again. “You’d be just the sort to throw yourself forward as tribute.”

“I volunteer.”

Haven’t I already done that?

I sacrificed myself for my brother for two long weeks as a kid. I died and rose from the ashes for him.

I’d sacrifice myself again for every member of this family.

I want to — because I care for Robyn like I care for Shay.

I can’t put it into words. I’ve never felt like this before.

I struggle for a moment.

Robyn laughs. “Don’t even think about it.”

My shoulders stiffen.

I snatch up a cloth and start to vigorously clean down the counter, wiping off the flour. “Tea?”

Robyn shakes her head. “Later. Look, I’m serious. You didn’t put D’Angelo at risk.”

“I did.”

I ignore the throbbing headache and the way that the light is hurting my eyes.

I know how to deal with a fucking concussion.

I don’t need to bother Robyn with my shit. Especially not when I’ve just caused this crisis for her.

“You took a beautiful photo of D’Angelo looking relaxed on a beach. That’s all. Do people think that professional athletes should be training, playing, or miserable the whole time? D’Angelo and Shay are already being wrecked enough at practice right now. So, fuck keyboard warriors. They’re simply trying to get a reaction. Security are dealing with the worst of it. We can ride out the rest. Famous people are real. D’Angelo doesn’t deserve to be hurt like this. We won’t let him be.”

I nod.

Robyn catches the determined look in my eye.

Startled, she leans forward, grasping my forearm. “And that doesn’t mean hunting them down and burning their computers, as you suggested.”

“Burning them ,” I mutter.

“Vetoed,” Robyn adds, “ again . Remember my plan? Delete and block.”

My plan would work better.

I won’t tell her about the secret burn list that I’m keeping of those who are leaving death threats.

No one hurts my family.

Who would want to be famous?

I’ve discovered, since trying out for the Bay Rebels with my twin, that fame is shit.

It’s safest in the shadows.

I’ve spent my life being invisible. My twin has taken the spotlight. But then, we deal with trauma differently.

Fame is dangerous. It infects your life.

Ice hockey has been Shay’s salvation. It’s his gift. He’s never lusted after fame. He wants to use his talent.

I guess, however, that he doesn’t have a choice. The two come as a package deal.

“We can control this if we act like it doesn’t matter,” Robyn says, but I can hear the anxiety that she’s trying to hide. “Trolls are going to troll.”

“But why?” I smack the cloth against the counter, letting go of it. I imagine that the counter is a troll’s balls. “Is it fun?”

Robyn drops the sticky spoon back into the half-eaten jam jar, which is going to drive D’Angelo crazy later. “The edgelords find it fun to make people cry.”

I nod.

That makes sense.

When I was dragged away from my brother as a kid, who was locked in the Room, the couple were amused every time that they made me cry.

I remember their laughter as much as my own tears.

Maybe that’s why I don’t understand emotions. Happiness and sadness are mixed up in my mind.

For a long time, I was simply numb.

It was easier.

My ink helps to remind me that I’m no longer someone’s plaything .

I am a man.

My ink protects me. I can feel the security of claiming ownership over my own body as I run my finger along the roses and thorns.

Yet Robyn makes me not want to hide in my numbness anymore. I can be brave enough to share my fears with her.

I can reveal the demons from my past and know that she won’t use them against me.

Also, allow myself to risk feeling…what everyone else does.

I want to experience the same intensity of life as my twin.

My breathing picks up, as I turn to Robyn.

She looks beautiful in a woolen dress but with bare feet.

I bend to lift her foot into my hand. It’s cold. Gently, I start to massage warmth back into it.

Robyn lets out a happy sigh. “That feels good, phoenix.”

I warm at the phoenix.

Her special name for me.

No one has given me a pet name before.

I keep massaging her, even though my shoulder is aching.

When a sharp pain shoots through my chest from my cracked ribs, I force my breathing to become shallow.

The pain eases.

Unfortunately, Robyn has become wise to my act.

She pulls her foot away from me. “Do you need your meds?”

I shake my head.

She assesses me for a long moment. “Pain scale?”

“Two.”

I push the boxes of scones further back on the counter.

Robyn snorts. “Let’s pretend I believe that. Look, you’re doing incredible work both as D’Angelo’s PA and as the team’s photographer. The true fans love the team. The haters aren’t fans. Trolls have four personality traits: sadism, narcissism, Machiavellianism, and psychopathy.”

“Not dangerous then.” My expression tightens. “We could still go with my plan.”

“No burning.” Robyn leaps off the counter, grimacing as her feet meet the cold floor. “My fear is that someone may have set these trolls on D’Angelo. The timing is suspicious.”

My eyes widen. “Someone like Colton.”

“Or Kates, Lee, Stansfield, or Bronwyn… Hell, any one of the men or women on the board who want to take him down. It could even be the club’s owner. Heine fits the profile of a troll himself.”

Shay told me about Heine.

I will stand up against him, if he becomes a threat to my family.

I don’t care that Heine is a playboy with mansions that probably have games rooms that are bigger than the entire house I grew up in. I don’t care that I’m poor and he’s a billionaire. And I fucking don’t care that he’s powerful enough to destroy me as casually as a complaint from him could have the entire staff of a restaurant fired.

That happened to me once in my kitchen job.

I worked three jobs to make sure that I could stay in college with Shay.

One term, I only ate every other day because some rich, popular college student from my course casually complained about their meal.

We all lost our jobs that night.

I saw the rich student in the lecture hall the next morning, laughing with his group of friends. He didn’t look like he even remembered being unhappy with his food the night before.

I bet he didn’t remember complaining and wrecking the lives of a dozen people.

I had to see him every morning waltzing into my English lectures, while my stomach clawed with hunger.

“We’ll protect Jude,” I swear. “Shay as well.”

No arrogant bastard is going to hurt them.

Robyn’s expression gentles. “We’ll protect each other.”

She pushes herself onto tiptoes and presses her lips to mine. She tastes deliciously of sweet strawberries. I bury my hand in her hair and pull her closer.

My tongue thrusts deeper, dominating the kiss.

She moans.

Then she pulls back, sucking on my lower lip.

“Phoenix,” she murmurs.

Robyn’s pupils are dilated, as she stares up at me with a look of adoration that startles me.

She only looks at D’Angelo like that normally.

It makes something spark in me.

I growl, biting on her lip and tightening my hold on her hair. “Don’t move.”

I drag her head to the side, before kissing down her neck.

She whines.

I kiss, lingering and slow.

I watch closely the way that her skin goosebumps. Every time that she shivers, I kiss over the same spot, wanting to get the same reaction.

Kiss, shiver, kiss, shiver.

Fascinating reaction.

I’ve never been with anyone but Robyn. I never want to be with any woman but her for the rest of my life.

I want to explore and discover how to please her in the way that Shay and D’Angelo can.

When I lick over the shell of Robyn’s ear, she melts against me, resting her hand on my uninjured shoulder.

Then I kiss behind her ear, over and over.

Robyn’s fingers claw into me in a way that makes my skin feel as sensitive as hers must be.

I raise my knee. “If you want to get off, hump against that.”

Robyn’s pupils are blown wide, when she raises her gaze to meet mine.

I arch my brow. “Problem?”

Robyn steals another kiss like she can’t resist. “Fuck, D’Angelo must have been training you. I don’t know whether to kiss or spank him.”

“Kiss.” I tilt my head. “I studied his kink list, and face slapping is on it but spanking isn’t. At least, not receiving.”

D’Angelo enthusiastically spanks my twin. And my twin is just as enthusiastic about having his arse turned bright red over D’Angelo’s lap.

Shay loves being tormented with that type of pleasure. I can tell the difference between hurt that makes him come apart with desire and harm that’s abusive.

If anyone raises their hand against Shay, I’ll break it.

Robyn lifts up her dress and then balances her throbbing core on my knee. When she humps against my leather clad leg, I shake.

I may come before she does.

Fuck.

Robyn is hot and eager. She’s panting against my mouth. She’s riding my knee, unashamedly chasing her pleasure.

I don’t help her.

She can work for it.

She’s careful of my sling and ribs as she balances against me.

She loops her arms around my neck.

“I’m almost… I can’t quite…” Robyn is desperate, riding a wave that won’t break.

She needs something more.

I swallow at the sensation of how desperately she’s rubbing herself against me.

I try to forget the trolls, the danger to my lovers, that I could lose this new home after next week.

Instead, I push my knee up against Robyn hard, and she gasps.

“Look at me,” I demand. Robyn’s gaze snaps to my molten silver one. “Be my good fucking girl and come .”

I yank Robyn by her hair into a hard kiss at the same time that she squirms on my knee in a wild orgasm that’s tearing her apart in the best way.

Her pleasure is like a drug to me.

I’m addicted to the way that she comes.

My Robyn.

My world.

The person who I’d burn the world down for.