But before I can get a word out, Beckett spins me around, shoving my back into the wall. My head bounces off the brick, hard enough to make me grimace.
His hand wraps around my throat and squeezes, causing my breath to hitch.
A thrill runs through me at the contact, at the feeling of his body pressed against mine. This is what I've been craving, what I've been dreaming about since that night in his office.
He's seething, his face inches from mine, but I'm not afraid. If anything, I'm intrigued. Is this Noah guy the one who's been blowing up Beckett's phone?
“How’d you find me?” He snarls, pressing his forearm against my chest, pinning me in place.
He reaches up with his free hand, ripping the mask off. The cool air feels good against my flushed skin, and I can't help but smirk. “Evening, Becks.”
“Novotny?” He blinks a few times, features scrunching as his grip on my throat loosens slightly. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?" I lean forward, brushing my lips against his, just a teasing taste.
He growls, tightening his fingers around my throat, cutting off my air. “You need to learn to respect boundaries. This shit isn't okay.”
Even as spots dance in my vision, I can't help but laugh and push into his grasp, winking at him. “Oh, come on now. We both know you want me.”
“You don't know what you're talking about.”
“So, you just enjoy using my throat, then tossing me aside like garbage after you blow your load?”
“What?” Beckett's eyes widen, and he abruptly lets go of my throat and steps back. “That's . . . that’s . . . You’re not garbage.”
“Oh, so is it because of Noah, then?”
“You have no idea what you're talking about.” He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots as he paces. “I left because I fucked up. I'm your coach, Viktor. I crossed the line. You're off-limits.”
I roll my eyes, waving a dismissive hand. “Oh, please. Don't give me the power dynamic speech.”
“It's not a speech, it's—”
I cut him off, not wanting to hear it. “None of the staff at Crestwood really have any power, Becks. The power belongs to the families of the students. Well, except for the scholarship students, of course.”
Beckett's jaw clenches. “Doesn’t matter. We can’t do this.”
“Be honest with me. If I’d signed with the Islanders rights after the draft, and you ran into me at a bar, would you have fucked me?”
His jaw ticks.
“Well, would you have?”
“Yeah.” He shakes his head. “But that’s not reality, so nothing can happen between us again.”
I start trailing my hand down his chest, over his abs, feeling the heat of his skin through his shirt. “That ship sailed the moment you had me on my knees,Coach. The moment you fucked my face.”
He grabs my wrist, stopping my exploration. His eyes are dark, dominating. “Remember what I said, Chaos. Don't take what's not given.”
There it is again. That nickname. Does he even realize he's saying it? It makes me feel all fluttery inside, like I'm special.
I push the envelope, pressing my body against his once more, feeling the hard ridge of his erection against my hip. “But you want to give it to me, don't you,Coach? You want to lose control again.”
Beckett's hand comes up, smacking my cheek. It's not hard enough to really sting, but it makes me whimper and my hips buck, my throbbing dick brushing against his muscular thigh.
He hisses through his teeth, stepping forward and pinning me between his chest and the brick wall.
“Are you going to punish me, Becks?” I ask, my voice breathy, needy.
