LOGINLiam Lannister is the straight, no-bullshit captain of the Frostbite Wolves until the league trades his most hated rival straight into his apartment. Raphael Thorne is cocky, dangerously hot, and unapologetically bisexual. For two seasons he’s tormented Liam on the ice with filthy whispers and grinding hits. Now he’s in Liam’s space — shirtless, smirking, and calling him “pretty boy” every chance he gets. Liam hates him. He hates the constant teasing. He hates the way Raphael’s body brushes against his in their too-small apartment. And he definitely hates how his own body is starting to react. When a drunken welcome party ends with them chest-to-chest against the wall, years of rivalry explode into something raw, angry, and dangerously addictive. What starts as hate turns into desperate, sheet-clawing nights filled with biting kisses, powerful hands, and Liam’s first sinful taste of a man who knows exactly how to break him. On the ice, they’re unstoppable. Off the ice? They’re breaking every rule. Hate never tasted this good.
View MoreLiam rushed out of the shower stall with a towel wrapped tightly around his waist, water still dripping from his hair. The locker room was slowly filling up as the teammates that had gone in earlier were coming out now. But all Liam could focus on was the image burned into his brain.Raphael Thorne’s bare ass.Firm. Wet. Water streaming down the curve of it like some kind of fucking invitation. He needed to quit imagining and reimagining everything that had to do with Thorne.He clenched his jaw and started whistling — some random upbeat tune he barely knew — trying desperately to drown out the memory. The sharp sound cut through the chatter as he walked back to his locker and started pulling on his clothes.Lee, already half-dressed a few lockers down, raised an eyebrow. “What’s with the sudden chirpiness, Cap? Seconds ago you were a grumpy sad mess nervous about our competition, and now you’re whistling like you just won the lottery.”Liam’s whistling faltered for half a second. Pan
The locker room was humid with sweat and exhaustion. Liam's teammates helmets clattered on their benches, pads were peeled off with groans and laughter, and the usual post-practice chaos filled the space. And for once, Liam Lannister, captain of the Frostbite Wolves, stayed silent.He sat on the bench in front of his locker, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor between his skates. Practice had been a disaster. He’d been the biggest fuck-up on the ice today, and everyone knew it. He didn't have the right to give his usual post practice speech that constituted of corrections and encouragement.Kowalski, the big defenseman who had barreled into him earlier, walked over, still in his compression shorts, towel slung over one broad shoulder. He extended a hand carefully.“We good, Cap?” his voice was unusually calm.Liam looked up, forcing a nod. He clasped the offered hand firmly. “Yeah. We’re good. My bad out there. I was a wreck today. Should’ve been paying attention.”Kowalski shru
The whistle sliced through the frigid air of the practice rink, but Liam Lannister barely heard it. His skates felt heavy, his stick like a foreign object in his hands. A few days had passed since the absolute disaster with Chloe, yet the humiliation refused to loosen its grip. Every time he closed his fucking eyes, he saw flashes of that night. At this point he'd probably replayed the ear scene a million unhealthy times.He lined up for the next drill, jaw clenched so tight it ached. Focus, damn it. This is practice. This is what you do.The puck came his way from Marcus, it was a clean hard pass he would normally control without thinking. Today, it bounced awkwardly off his blade and skittered away toward the boards.“Shit,” Liam muttered under his breath, skating after it half-heartedly.“I’d rather fuck you instead, pretty boy.”The words Raphael had thrown at him that night kept slamming into his brain like a bad but addictive porno.The way he'd said it was so effortless, conf
Liam lay on his back in the bedroom, one arm thrown over his eyes, staring at nothing. The sheets still smelled faintly of Chloe’s heavy perfume sweet, floral, feminine. Exactly what he was supposed to want.But all he could think about was the moment her warm, eager mouth had been wrapped around his cock… and how his fucked-up brain had replaced her with Raphael.What the actual fuck is wrong with me?He groaned loudly, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw stars. A hot, willing girl had been on her knees for him, sucking him like she wanted to win a prize, and instead of enjoying it, his traitor mind had flashed back to Raphael’s wet tongue on his ear. The heat of his breath. The way his hips had jerked forward like a desperate slut.Shame burned through his chest like acid. He was straight. He had always been straight. He liked women. Soft bodies, pretty faces, tight pussy. Not… whatever sick shit Raphael was trying to shove down his throat.Chloe finished fix






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