One Pucking Secret (One Pucking #1)

Prologue

Chloe

The wind whips through my hair as I pedal faster, my heart racing for reasons beyond just getting to the party. The late Saturday afternoon sun dips lower, casting the streets in a soft, golden glow. I’m cutting it close, but I refuse to miss this chance.

Wyatt Banks will be there.

The thought sends a jolt through my chest. Wyatt, with his effortless charm and those piercing blue eyes that seem to see through everything. He’s the guy everyone knows—popular, talented, completely out of reach. But tonight, I might actually talk to him, maybe even catch his attention.

The streets are mostly empty, but I can feel the buzz of the weekend in the air. As I swerve around the corner, my mind drifts to what I’ll say when I see him, how I’ll act cool and composed for once .

Then—out of nowhere—he steps into the street.

I yank the handlebars. Too late. My tires skid, my stomach drops, and before I can brace myself—

Thud!

I hit the ground hard, my bike toppling to the side, sending a jolt of pain through my body. I groan, wincing as my wrist throbs from the impact.

“Whoa—Chloe? Are you okay?”

I blink up, and there he is. Wyatt Banks, towering above me, wide-eyed, yanking his earbuds out. His blue gaze sharpens as he kneels beside me, worry etched across his annoyingly handsome face.

“I… uh, yeah, I’m fine,” I mumble, trying to laugh it off despite the sting in my knees and the embarrassment burning my cheeks. “Just testing gravity. Seems like it’s still working.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You sure? You don’t look okay.”

His concern catches me off guard, and suddenly, the pain in my wrist is the least of my worries. I open my mouth to insist I’m fine, but the words get stuck in my throat. Being this close to him, feeling his attention on me—it’s like the world has shrunk to just the two of us .

“I’m fine,” I start to say, but my voice falters.

“Let me help you,” he says, cutting off any protest.

Before I can argue, he’s already slipping his arm under mine, lifting me effortlessly to my feet. His touch is warm, steady, and I hate the way my heart stutters from the contact. The last thing I want is to look even more pathetic in front of him.

“I can manage,” I insist, trying to pull away, but my legs betray me, wobbling under the weight of the fall. Wyatt steadies me, his grip firm but gentle.

“Right. Because you’ve totally got this under control,” he says, a hint of teasing in his voice as his eyes flicker down to my scraped knees.

I roll my eyes, feeling the embarrassment creeping up my neck. “Okay, maybe not. But I’m not going to fall apart over a little spill.”

“Good to know.” His lips curl into a smirk, and for a moment, I forget about the pain. He glances at my bike, lying in a sad heap beside us. “You heading somewhere important?”

I hesitate, glancing in the direction of the party. “Just… the party.”

“How about I walk you back to your dorm? You should probably clean up those scrapes before anything else. ”

“I was heading to the party…” I start to protest but trail off when I catch his expression. His eyes lock onto mine, and I feel the air shift between us, something unspoken hanging in the space.

“You should take care of yourself first,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “The party can wait.”

“I don’t want you to miss it,” I murmur, glancing back toward the street.

He gives a small shrug, his lips quirking up into a grin. “Already made an appearance. Besides, I’ve got practice early tomorrow. Hockey season, you know?”

Of course, he’s dedicated to his sport. It makes sense he’d be off his feet early, prepping for his next big game. My chest tightens, a mix of admiration and nerves making my head spin.

I nod, feeling a strange flutter in my chest.

Wyatt bends down and picks up my bike like it’s nothing and gestures for me to sit on it. “You sit, and I’ll push.”

I hesitate, then carefully slide onto the seat. As he grips the handlebars, his arm brushes mine, and I can’t ignore the warmth radiating off him or how close we are .

Wyatt Banks is helping me. Talking to me. And now, he’s walking me home?

As we move slowly, my bike rolling steadily under his guidance, his deep voice breaks the silence. “You look pretty tonight, by the way.”

My stomach flips at his words. Pretty? I glance down at my oversized white tee and black skirt. Practical for riding, but maybe a little too casual. I glance down at my sneakers, wishing I had gone with something a bit more chic instead.

I laugh nervously, shrugging. “I don’t know about that. It’s not exactly runway material.”

“I think it suits you.”

My cheeks heat up, and I bite my lip, trying to shake off the flutter of nerves. This is Wyatt Banks, the guy every girl dreams of, and here I am, bruised and embarrassed, with him pushing my bike like it’s no big deal.

“I usually have Lainey to help me pick out outfits,” I admit sheepishly. “This was more of a ‘throw on whatever works’ situation. Since I was biking to the party.”

He chuckles softly as if finding humor in my admission.

“Are you meeting Lainey at the party? I can walk you there after we get you cleaned up.”

“No, Lainey is out of town. ”

Wyatt glances sideways at me, eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. “Going solo?”

“Yeah,” I reply with a sigh. “I figured it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Brave.” He chuckles.

He nudges my shoulder, a playful glint in his eye. “Hey, remember that time in Professor Grant’s class? You know, when you totally wiped out.”

I groan. “Please don’t remind me.”

He leans in, his voice teasing. “How could I forget? You were the cute girl who tripped over nothing and took out an entire row of textbooks. It was like watching a domino effect, only… more chaotic.”

My cheeks warm, and I roll my eyes. “Right, because you totally had it all together with your smooth save, huh?”

Wyatt grins, his gaze lingering on me. “Please, I swooped in like a hero. You were blushing so hard. I’m surprised you didn’t melt into the floor.”

I nudge him back, the tension easing as I manage a small grin. “If I remember right, you were the one who nearly dropped your laptop trying to rescue me. Some hero.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Hey, I had to make sure you survived the embarrassment. ”

“Right. Thanks.”

“Alright, I’ll stop. But let’s be real. That fall was kinda legendary.”

I smile up at him. “It sure was.”

He gives me a grin, one of those easy, playful smiles that makes my heart do a little flip. It’s silly, really. Just a walk back to my dorm, but with him, even something as simple as this feels different, like there’s an unspoken energy between us, impossible to ignore.

As we reach the steps leading up to my dorm, I hop off the bike, but pain shoots through my knees, reminding me of my less-than-graceful fall. I wince, trying to hide the discomfort, but he notices immediately.

“Careful,” he says.

I groan inwardly. Why do I have to be so clumsy?

“Thanks for helping me,” I mumble, feeling a little self-conscious.

“Not a problem,” Wyatt says, flashing that smile again—the one that makes my heart do ridiculous things. “Besides, I wouldn’t want you crashing into any more pedestrians tonight.”

I laugh, the tension easing slightly. “Hey, I didn’t crash into you. I’m the one with the injuries. ”

“True,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes. “But I was close.”

With my bike locked up, I take a deep breath and glance up at the stairs leading to my dorm. They seem impossibly steep now that I’m sore and scraped up.

Before I can figure out how to navigate the steps, Wyatt swoops in, scooping me up into his arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Wait—what are you doing?” I yelp, my arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

“Just hold on tight,” he says, his voice light but firm. “I’m getting you to your door without any more accidents.”

My heart races, and not just from the surprise of being lifted off the ground. Being this close to Wyatt—feeling his strength, his warmth—it’s overwhelming. But in a good way. A very good way.

As he carries me up the stairs, I try to ignore the butterflies in my stomach, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear. It’s strangely comforting, like this moment between us is more than just a random encounter.

We reach my dorm room far too quickly for my liking .

“Which bed is yours?” he asks, glancing around.

I point to the one on the left, a mess of blankets and pillows I never got around to fixing after last night’s late study session. “That one.”

Wyatt sets me down gently, his arms lingering around me for just a second too long before he steps back, leaving me breathless.

“Do you have any antiseptic and bandages?” Wyatt asks, glancing around the room.

“Yeah, I’ve got a first aid kit under my desk,” I reply.

He raises an eyebrow, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Ah, so this isn’t an isolated incident for you, huh?”

“I like to be prepared, okay?”

He chuckles. “Always prepared, huh? You’re either a lifesaver or just really clumsy.”

“Maybe a bit of both,” I tease back, feeling more at ease.

As I reach for the kit, his gaze locks onto mine—steady, heated, and impossible to ignore. There’s a smoldering intensity in his eyes, like he knows exactly the effect he’s having on me.

“Sit,” he says, his voice low but firm, sending a thrill through me. The way he looks at me makes it impossible to argue. My pulse quickens under the weight of his attention. I sink back onto the bed, trying to stay calm, but I’m failing miserably.

He kneels beside me and starts cleaning my scrapes, his touch gentle, almost electric. I can’t help but notice how close we are, the way his strong hands move with surprising care. When he finishes, he looks up at me with a smirk.

“All done,” he says.

“Thanks again,” I reply, my voice softer than intended. “I owe you one. How about I treat you to coffee? Deal?”

“Coffee sounds good. Deal.”

My heart flutters at his agreement and I can’t help but smile at him.

I rest back on my bed when suddenly, my favorite song that I left on pause begins playing from my phone’s streaming app.

“Oh, jeez,” I say, grabbing my phone to turn it off.

Wyatt stands and chuckles. “Didn’t take you for that type.” He points to my phone, the melancholy ballad from my favorite indie pop group still filling the room.

“Hey, this band is good,” I retort. “Three Angry Ladies may be a tacky name, but their music speaks to me. ”

“You don’t seem like an angry lady.”

I close the app, silencing the song, and put my phone on my nightstand. “Only in the privacy of my dorm.”

He smirks. “It’s a shame you’ve been caught.”

“You can head back to your dorm if you want,” I say, offering him a small, reassuring smile. “I’m not going to the party anymore, so you don’t have to worry about walking me back.”

A flicker of disappointment crosses his face before he masks it with a casual smile.

“Would it be okay if I stayed a little longer?” Wyatt asks.

Surprise jolts through me, and my heart races again. Why would he want to stick around? “Um… yeah, of course,” I say, motioning to the edge of my bed. “You can sit if you want.”

Wyatt nods, sitting beside me, his eyes never leaving mine as he settles in. “I’ve always thought you were cute, you know. I’m glad your friend isn’t around for a change, so the two of us could talk one-on-one.”

His admission catches me off guard, and I feel my pulse quicken. “Yeah, me too,” I manage after a beat, my voice a little quieter. “But I’m not, like, pining over you or anything.” Plenty of girls do that. I certainly don’t need to. “I think it’s really cool how ambitious and committed you are to your dreams. It’s… kind of hot, actually.”

He tilts his head, studying me. “Judging by all the communications textbooks scattered around here… I think it’s pretty hot, too, how serious you are about it.”

I let out a light laugh, shaking my head. “You’re just teasing me.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He smirks, though there’s something more genuine beneath his playful tone.

I bite my lip to keep from smiling too much. “No. I’m just saying… I can take it.”

His eyebrows raise slightly as he leans back a little. “Oh, so you think you can handle me teasing you?”

I shrug, trying to keep it casual despite my racing heart. “I mean, it’s not like you’re that intimidating.”

Wyatt chuckles, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Yeah, right. You’ve been flustered around me all night.”

My cheeks warm as I nudge him with my shoulder. “Not even close.”

He leans in just a little closer, the space between us shrinking. “You sure about that? ”

I meet his gaze, the pull between us undeniable. My heart’s pounding, but I manage a small smile. “Pretty sure.”

We hold each other’s stare for a beat longer, the room feeling smaller somehow. I shift forward just as he does—and our heads bump lightly. I wince, rubbing my forehead. “Well, that was graceful.”

Wyatt grins, shaking his head. “Definitely not our best moment.”

His eyes soften, the teasing replaced by something more sincere as he leans in again, slower this time. “Chloe.” My name is a low vibration in the air. “Can I kiss you?”

I nod, unable to find the words, despite being a communication major. Wyatt always has this effect on me, leaving me speechless. And then, his lips are on mine.

The kiss is soft at first, a gentle exploration that speaks of the tension we’ve been holding back. But then it deepens, and I can feel the need in the way his lips move, testing boundaries, teasing, and coaxing more out of me. My hands instinctively find their way into his wavy black hair, tugging him closer. His arms wrap around me, strong and secure, pulling me into his lap as we tumble back onto the bed .

I don’t resist. I give in, pressing against him, feeling the heat of his body beneath mine. His lips leave a trail down my jawline, pausing to suck gently at my neck, sending shivers through me. His free hand skims along my thigh, and I gasp, my pulse quickening.

I clutch his shirt, my fingers curling into the fabric, needing more, craving the warmth of his touch on my skin. His mouth finds mine again, hungry and urgent, and I lose myself in the kiss, in the feel of him.

I slide my hand up his shirt, my fingers tracing over the lines of his abs. He returns the gesture by running his hands over my shirt, groping my breasts through the cotton fabric.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers against my neck, his voice thick with desire. “We can slow down if you need to.”

I pull back, just enough to meet his gaze. There’s sincerity in his eyes, the kind that makes my heart skip. He would wait, take his time learning every inch of me.

Kissing him is everything I imagined it would be, and more. It’s like the anticipation and the nervousness all melt away, leaving just this—us. I’ve wanted this for so long, and now that it’s real, it feels like I’ve crossed some invisible line, stepping into something new, something thrilling.

“I like the pace we’re going,” I manage to say before claiming his lips again, this time with more certainty.

My hands continue to explore his chest from beneath his shirt, tracing every ridge and dip until our breaths are coming in pants.

His touch reaches the back of my skirt, then I feel his fingers caressing my thighs. They run along the smooth skin of my ass, causing a shiver to run up my spine.

I clasp onto the bottom of his shirt, and he moves his hands so I can slide it over his head. He reaches for my shirt next, his fingers sending tingles through me. I peel off my shirt, exposing my lacy white bra.

“This is cute,” he says, but his fingers are already unclasping the hooks of my bra. “But I think it’d be even cuter if it were on the floor.”

Within an instant, my breasts spill out. His fingers tease my nipples, causing them to harden. And then his mouth is on my breast, tongue swirling over a nipple while one hand cups the other, massaging it gently. His breath is a soft sigh against my sensitive skin, and I moan in pleasure .

“Wyatt,” I whisper, because there’s no other word for this delicious torment.

He changes our position in one swift motion. Now I’m on my back and he’s hovering over me.

He lifts my skirt and helps me out of my panties, the soft fabric pooling on the floor.

“You smell so fucking good,” he growls, lowering himself between my legs and parting them further. I lean back, offering more of myself to him, and he takes it greedily.

I cry out, arching into him. His hands spread my folds, his fingers teasingly tracing the dampening skin.

The sound of my moans fills the room as he eats me out, his tongue working like magic. I grip the sheets in fists, quivering under his touch.

“So good,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

He thrusts two fingers inside me, his tongue circling my clit in time with his movements. I scream, my body tightening around him, and he groans against me. His free hand grips my hip, holding me down as he presses into me faster, deeper.

“Fuck,” I gasp, lost in the sensations that threaten to consume me. My head spins as the pleasure builds, and then a wave crashes over me, an orgasm so powerful, it rocks my core.

We’re both panting now, shuddering from my release. My heart races from the sudden rush of endorphins and adrenaline, making my body throb with life.

His hot breath caresses my skin. He pecks my neck and reluctantly pulls away.

He stands, peeling off his shirt and jeans, revealing the hard planes of his body, honed from years of hockey. My eyes trail down, taking in every inch of him until they land on the bulge straining against his boxers.

“You’re so hard,” I tease, running my hand over his thigh and brushing my fingertips over his cock.

His breath hitches, and he grins. “Keep that up, and I won’t be able to hold back.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to.” And it’s the truth. My core is aching for him, to know what it feels like to have him inside of me.

“Have you ever had sex before, Chloe?”

I clear my throat. “I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re asking. Why? Do I seem inexperienced?” It isn’t a lie. I’ve had sex a few times, but I wouldn’t say the experiences were all that remarkable. The guys I’ve been with are nothing like Wyatt .

A laugh escapes him. “You seem hesitant, but judging by the way you’re touching me… you know exactly what you’re doing.” His eyes lock on mine. “I won’t hold back if you don’t.”

I bite my lip, his invitation turning me on even more. “Deal,” I finally say.

He returns to the bed, climbing on top of me.

I rest against the bed, arching my back. He slides one hand over my stomach, the other catching onto my hip.

“God, your hands,” I moan, basking in how phenomenal they feel against my skin.

“If you like them, you’re going to love my cock. Are you ready for it, baby?”

I nod, slowly but with certainty.

“Do you have a condom?”

“Oh…” I turn to my nightstand, even though I know there’s nothing there. Then I remember my birth control in my purse. “I’m on the pill, though. And I just got tested. I’m clean. If that’s okay with you.”

He contemplates this for a moment, then leans forward to press his lips against mine. “I’m clean too. I get tested regularly.”

“Me too,” I assure him, and he positions himself at my entrance.

“Oh!” I cry out as soon as his tip makes contact with my entrance .

“You’re huge,” I admit, and he chuckles.

“Don’t worry about that. You’re so wet. I’m sure I’ll fit just fine.” Then he enters me, filling me up completely with one thrust.

His size hurts, but it feels good too, in a way that leaves me wanting more.

“Feel okay?” he asks, still gentle in his thrusting.

“More than okay,” I say in between pants. “Please, don’t stop.”

We move together, our bodies in perfect sync as he begins to pound into me.

The headboard bangs against the wall in time with his thrusts. His grip on my hips tightens as he picks up speed, slamming into me harder.

“Yes,” I cry out, my body begging for my release to come. It does, and it’s explosive, my walls contracting around him as we both moan loudly.

“That’s it, baby,” he responds eagerly. “Come again for me.”

“I’m gonna,” I whimper, already feeling another orgasm building.

It crashes over me like a wave, shaking my body as he grunts his own release. He collapses on top of me, both of us a tangle of limbs and sweat-soaked skin. Our breathing is heavy, but the satisfied smiles on our faces say it all .

As we catch our breath, he kisses my forehead gently. “You’re amazing,” he whispers before pulling out of me. I whimper at the loss, but he just grins. “Save that thought for later.”

He lays down next to me, and despite the sticky, sweaty mess we’ve made of each other, I cuddle into him.

“Can I stay the night?”

“I was hoping you would. But only if it won’t make you late for practice.”

He pulls me in closer until my head is resting against his chest. “I’ll just have to wake you up to help me with my warm-up routine.”

“Stop, before you get me turned on again,” I joke.

He laughs, and I relax against his chest. His scent lingers on my skin as we lie there, talking quietly, sharing stories and secrets while the world outside fades away, the party long forgotten.

Did I really just have sex with Wyatt Banks, and is he implying that we’ll be doing it all over again tomorrow morning? A smile tugs at my lips, my body still humming from the night, and I can’t help but look forward to waking up in Wyatt’s arms.