MasukChapter 10: Home The arena was electric. Final exhibition game before the season started. Sold-out crowd. Media everywhere because of the scandal. This wasn’t just hockey anymore — it was a fucking circus, and Ryder and I were the main attraction. We dominated. Every shift we were on the ice together felt supernatural. I’d pull the puck, draw defenders, then hit Ryder with a perfect pass. He’d bulldoze through checks like they were nothing and feed it right back to me for the shot. We were terrifying. Beautiful. In sync in a way that went way beyond hate. Midway through the third period, I got slashed hard behind the net. Pain flared in my ribs, but before I could even react, Ryder was there — dropping gloves and absolutely destroying the guy who hit me. The crowd lost their minds. When he skated back to me, helmet off, sweat dripping, eyes wild with fury and love, he grabbed my jersey and pulled me close. “You good?” he growled. “Yeah. Finish this with me.” We scored the gam
Chapter 9: The Test The scandal broke on a Monday morning like a bomb. A “anonymous source” (probably that asshole Tyler) sold a video. Not full penetration, but damning enough — grainy security footage from the rooftop party balcony showing Ryder railing me against the railing, my face clearly visible in the reflection, his hand around my throat while I moaned like a whore. It was all over social media, sports sites, and even mainstream news by noon. “Riot Kane and Julian Voss Caught in Explicit Gay Encounter — NHL’s Hottest Rivalry Turns Romantic?” Management called us in for an emergency meeting. The coach looked exhausted. The GM looked pissed. They gave us the speech: “Image concerns,” “Sponsor pressure,” “Possible suspension if it distracts the team.” We were given two choices: deny everything and “cool it off,” or come out publicly and deal with the firestorm. We didn’t even discuss it in the room. Ryder just grabbed my hand under the table and squeezed hard. When they a
Chapter 8: Midnight Confession The rumors had turned into a fucking hurricane. Everywhere I looked online or in the locker room, people were whispering. Management had “quietly” warned us again to keep things professional. Sponsors were getting nervous. One reporter even camped outside our building for three hours yesterday. I was exhausted. Ryder was pissed. And the tension between us had turned into something electric and terrifying. It all came to a head at 11:47 p.m. on a random Tuesday. We’d stayed late at the practice facility after everyone else had gone home. Just the two of us on the empty ice under dim lights, skating hard, burning off frustration. No pads. Just sweats and skates. I was breathing heavy, sweat dripping down my back, when Ryder suddenly slammed into me from behind — not a check, but a full-body pin against the boards. His massive chest pressed against my back, his hard cock already grinding against my ass through our clothes. “Enough,” he growled again
Chapter 7: Rumors and Rage The rumors started on a Thursday. By Friday night, they were everywhere. I was scrolling on my phone in the kitchen while Ryder cooked steak (shirtless, of course, because the man was a walking distraction), when the notifications exploded. Some hockey gossip account had posted side-by-side photos: Ryder and me leaving the same hotel weeks ago, then entering our shared apartment building together. Another blurry shot from the rooftop party where his hand was clearly on my ass. “Riot Kane and Julian Voss: From bitter rivals to roommates… and maybe more? Sources say the chemistry is off the charts. Is the hate actually hate-fucking?” I laughed at first. Then the comments rolled in. “Explains why they suddenly play so well together.” “Two closeted meatheads destroying each other in the bedroom lmao.” “Management has to address this.” Ryder came up behind me, reading over my shoulder. His big hand landed possessively on my hip. “Let them talk,” he gro
Chapter 6: Shared WallsWe moved into the luxury apartment two days later.The team’s “solution” for star players during off-season training: a sleek, three-bedroom penthouse overlooking the waterfront with floor-to-ceiling windows, a private gym, and a massive kitchen island that I already knew was going to get destroyed. Management thought it would help us “build chemistry.”They had no fucking idea.Ryder carried most of the heavy boxes like they weighed nothing, his thick arms and back flexing under a tight compression shirt. I followed with my good arm, shoulder still taped up, watching the way his ass moved in those gray sweatpants. My hole twitched just looking at him.The second the door closed behind the last mover, Ryder dropped the box he was holding, stalked across the living room, and shoved me against the wall.“Finally,” he growled, mouth crashing into mine. “No more fucking hotel. This whole place is ours. I’m gonna fuck you in every single room.”He didn’t wait. He sp
Chapter 5: Cracks My shoulder exploded in pain the second I hit the ice. One minute I was cutting hard toward the net during a full-contact drill, the next Ryder threw a perfectly legal but brutally timed check that sent me crashing into the boards at the wrong angle. I heard the pop more than felt it at first. Then the burn hit like fire. “Fuck!” I gasped, staying down on the ice. The whistle blew. skates rushed over. But the first person who dropped to his knees beside me was Ryder. His big gloved hand gripped the back of my neck, steady and surprisingly gentle. “Julian. Talk to me. Where?” “Shoulder,” I gritted out. “Dislocated, I think. Fuck.” His face went tight. Not angry — something worse. Worry. Real fucking worry. Coach and the trainer helped me off the ice, but Ryder stayed right there the whole time, towering over everyone, barking at people to move faster. I caught the look in his eyes when they popped my shoulder back in on the bench. He looked like he wanted to







