Puck Me Harder: A Stepbrother Romance [BL]

Micah’s POV

Firstly, there was no damn way I could tell Noah the truth.

If I even uttered the words job hunting, let alone admitted I had been standing in an exclusive underground club entertaining an offer to cross-dress for wealthy VIP clients, Noah wouldn’t just get angry—he would destroy me. He would march straight to Father, spilling every single detail with that sickening, calm satisfaction he always had whenever I stepped out of line. And Father? Father would find a way to lock me in the windowless basement beneath the foundation of this cursed house. They would strip away every remaining scrap of human rights I possessed, reducing me to a prisoner in my own home, kept under lock and key until I completely lost my mind.

Father. Noah.

When it came down to it, there was literally no difference between the two of them. They were crafted from the exact same cold, controlling stone, born with the same terrifying instinct to cage me and clip my wings. The only real difference was the pathetic, twisted reality of my own heart: I hated my father with every fiber of my soul, but I somehow still loved my brother. And that love was the very thing that kept me weak, constantly bleeding out at his feet.

Secondly, I needed to construct a believable lie—something that explained why I was stepping out of Raven’s car in the dead of night, dressed in a sharp suit, without revealing a single truth about Phoenix or the club.

The problem was, I couldn’t even voice a single syllable. Noah’s massive, heavy palm was still clamped ruthlessly over my mouth and nose, his fingers digging into my cheeks so hard my jaw creaked under the pressure. I couldn’t draw a full breath, my hot air rebounding off his leather-scented skin.

I muffled a desperate sound against his hand, rolling my eyes upward to plead with him.

Sensations flared down my spine as he slowly, agonizingly dragged his palm down my lips, his knuckles brushing against my chin before he dropped his arm. He tilted his head, raising a dark, mocking brow at me while his gaze burned holes into my face.

"I... I only went for a ride with her," I stammered, my voice trembling violently as I tried to smooth down the front of my jacket. "That’s all. We were just driving around, talking."

"A ride?" Noah repeated softly.

I nodded rapidly, trying to project a fake innocence that felt completely unnatural on my face.

Suddenly, a low, breathy laugh bubbled up from his throat. The sound sent a icy jolt of pure dread straight down into my gut. Before I could pull back, Noah’s hand shot out like a striking viper, grabbing my wrist and squeezing until the small bones ground together.

"You really take me for a complete fool, don’t you, Micah?" he asked, his voice dripping with toxicity.

My eyes instantly flooded with hot, helpless tears from the blinding pain in my wrist. I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head as my heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped animal. "I-I wouldn’t dare! Noah, please, you’re hurting me—I wouldn’t dare lie to you!"

I opened my eyes, staring up at him through a watery glaze, letting him see the terror vibrating through my frame.

For a terrifying second, I thought he was going to twist my arm behind my back right there on the damp pavement. But then, a slow, unnatural smile creaked open across his face. He released his iron grip so suddenly that I stumbled back a step, clutching my bruised wrist against my chest.

"Don’t worry," Noah whispered, leaning in just close enough for his breath to fan over my cheek. "I have my own ways of keeping an eye on you."

He stepped past me, his heavy boots crunching against the gravel as he strode up the front porch steps and pushed the heavy oak entrance door open. He paused right at the threshold, turning his head back toward me when I didn’t immediately follow.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked, his tone dropping back into that deceptively calm, demanding rhythm. "Get inside."

I forced my trembling legs to move, pulling myself away from the cold night air and shuffling up the steps into the house behind him. The moment the front door clicked shut, the heavy, suffocating atmosphere of the estate wrapped around my neck like a noose. Noah kicked off his boots at the entryway, and I quickly slipped out of my shoes, placing them neatly beside his while keeping my eyes glued to the hardwood floor.

Noah didn’t go upstairs. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked straight toward the dimly lit kitchen.

I froze near the foot of the staircase, watching him out of the corner of my eye. He reached the stove, lifting the glass lid off the large metal pot sitting on the burner. Inside was the warm, freshly cooked dinner I had prepared an hour ago... before Raven had pulled me into her chaotic world, before I had met her mesmerizing, terrifying brother.

Noah stared down at the steaming food, then slowly turned his head to lock his icy gaze onto mine.

The unspoken question hung in the air, heavy and lethal:

If you were out taking a casual joyride with Raven all night... when the hell did you stand over this stove and prepare a full meal from scratch?

My throat closed up. The math wasn’t adding up, and he knew it. I didn’t give him the chance to voice the accusation. Panic kicked my survival instincts into overdrive, and I turned around, rushing past the kitchen and sprinting up the carpeted stairs as fast as my legs could carry me.

I threw myself into my bedroom, slamming the thick wooden door shut with my entire body weight.

CLICK.

I turned the lock, resting my forehead against the cool wood as I exhaled a long, ragged breath that rattled in my chest. My hands were shaking so violently I could barely function. I peeled the expensive, tailored suit jacket off my shoulders, letting it slide down my arms, followed by the trousers. Standing there in just my thin undershirt and socks, I felt exposed, and utterly exhausted.

My hands dove into the inner pocket of the discarded jacket, pulling out the pristine white business card Phoenix had given me.

The heavy, gold-embossed lettering gleamed under my desk lamp, his private cell phone number dark and prominent across the back. VIP host. Star attraction. Freedom.

A sickening coil of temptation and revulsion twisted in my stomach. I couldn’t process it tonight—my brain was fried, operating on pure fumes. I quickly unzipped the deepest, most hidden compartment inside my school backpack, shoved the card far down into the dark lining, and zipped it shut. I would deal with Phoenix tomorrow. Right now, I had to finish the school article for Raven.

I pulled my chair out and sank onto the cushion, opening my laptop. The blue light from the screen washed over my pale face as I pulled up the empty page.

I needed to concentrate, but my mind kept betraying me, throwing intrusive, chaotic memories into my head. As my fingers hovered over the keyboard, a sudden wave of intense, tingling heat flushed through my lower belly. My skin prickled, and my breath hitched in my throat.

Damon.