Hidden Scars (Darby U Hockey Boys, #1)

by Andi Jaxon

“Dude. He watches you like a hawk. Did you not realize he fucked up the guy who tripped you during the game? He’s crazy protective of you. Every game, he retaliates against anyone who touches you.”

That can’t be true.

I shove him so he falls into Paul who flushes slightly. Oh, that’s what’s happening here.

I know Jeremy won’t let them touch me.

But he’s mine.

Why does he hurt me? No one else on the team has parents who hurt them. Why am I such a bad kid?

That is so fucking sad it is not okay

Did I show him the scars? God damn it.

Starting with what the actual fuck?

“What are they checking you for? Watching your stitches?”

“Concussion? Are you okay?”

Is he fighting to let himself need me? To accept the comfort I freely offer?

don’t know how to touch without fucking.” His confession breaks my heart. Has no one just held him because he needed it? Offered a hug? I wrap my arms around his neck and bring him into me. “It’s okay, I do.”

steps up behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist, snakes it under my shirt, and splays his hand low on my abdomen. My eyes damn near bug out of my head at the unexpected touch, especially in front of others.

“Remember to keep your hands to yourself or you’ll be the next one on concussion protocol.” “Is it possible for you not to be a pretentious dick for like ten seconds?” Brendon tosses back.

“I also didn’t need to know how rough Jeremy likes it.”

“It won’t happen again. I was making a point.”

“Yeah, your point was ‘don’t touch what’s mine’ but you haven’t even talked to me about it.”

“You are mine and I don’t share.” His hands grip my hips. “No one touches you but me.”

“I’m not the one with a concussion. I’ll live. I’m used to this.” The muscle in his cheek jumps as he clenches

“Keep looking at me with ‘fuck me’ eyes and I’ll do exactly that. I’m not above using you to make myself feel better and wearing you out until you can’t stand.”

“Stop. Looking. At. Me. Like. That.” He grinds out. “My control is shit right now.” “Lay with me?”

“Jeremy.”

“Yes?”

“Knock it...

“You aren’t going anywhere until your stomach is full of my cum. On your knees.”

Damn that’s fucking possessive but hot LMAOO

Oh, fuck me.

“On the regular, Little Bit.” He sends her a panty melting smile and Preston growls,

“Don’t look at her like that.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Hey, Preston.” I call his name calmly. “Wake up, babe.”

I don’t hate him. Not anymore.

love being used by him, claimed, owned.

Everyone will see them in the locker room but I don’t care. I want them to. I need them to know he’s taken. Owned.

“Use me,” he whispers. “I’ve got you. Take what you need.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumble into his naked chest.

“My father cuts me and stitches it back up.”

“What?”

“Every scar on my torso is from him correcting my behavior.”

“How old were you when it started?”

“How is he keeping your drug tests clean? How are you functioning so well on pain meds?”

“I was a kid, like, ten years old? I don’t know. It was around the time my mom was killed.” I rub my face against his chest. “I don’t get pain med...

No one cares. No one but him.

“Is that what your nightmares are about?”

used to fight him, hide so he would chase me. But I learned it's easier to just let it happen. The dreams are sometimes being chased by him, sometimes it’s walking in to find my mom dead or finding my sister dead at his hand.” “Jesus. You found your mom?” “No, I came home from school to the coroner parked in my driveway. I was ten when she was killed and I must have heard the cops or my father talking about it because I have this mental picture of it that I have no other way of having.”

“If I was better, he wouldn’t have to correct me all the time.”

“What the hell is wrong with you two today?” I turn on Brendon with a snarl. “I over fucking slept, didn’t eat on time, and my shirt isn’t ironed. We’re going to fucking lose today!”

They staged this on purpose to draw him out and get rid of him.

“I don’t think she wants to witness what I’m going to do to you when we get back to the dorm.”

“Touch him again and I’ll break your elbow,” Preston growls in Brendon’s face, jaw clenched tight. “Alright, alright! Jesus Christ!” Brendon yells.

“Are you that desperate to get used again?” “Yes,”