Todos los capítulos de Dark Desires : A Collection of Filthy Forbidden MM Sins: Capítulo 181 - Capítulo 190

His On-Ice RivalChapter 1: The Trade That Ruined MeI found out I’d been traded the same way everyone else did—on my phone at 6:12 a.m. while the coffee was still brewing.One notification. Three paragraphs from the team’s PR account. My name sitting next to the words “in exchange for draft picks and future considerations.” No warning call. No courtesy heads-up. Just the sudden, public knowledge that I was no longer a Wolf. I was a Blade.And the Blades’ captain was the one man in the league I hated more than anyone.Levi Ashford.Six-foot-three of smug, golden-boy talent. The kind of forward who smiled for the cameras and then buried you in the corner with a dirty elbow when the refs weren’t looking. We’d been chirping each other since juniors. I’d broken his nose in a playoff series two years ago. He’d given me a seven-stitch cut above the eye the season after. Every time our teams met, the hits got heavier and the words got uglier. The media loved it. “One of the league’s best riv

Chapter 3: The Night the Hate CrackedThe next night’s game was a bloodbath.We won 4–2. I had two assists and a five-minute major for fighting. Levi had a goal, an assist, and a matching major for the same fight. The refs had finally had enough of us boarding each other into the glass. We sat in the box together for the full five, shoulders almost touching, both of us breathing hard and refusing to look away first. The crowd loved it. The coaches did not.In the locker room afterward the chirps were quieter than usual. Everyone could feel the shift. Levi caught my eye across the stalls while he peeled off his jersey. There was a fresh cut on his lower lip from my glove. When he licked it, slow, something low in my gut pulled tight.The bus ride back to the hotel was silent.
The elevator ride up to our floor was worse.The second the hotel room door clicked shut behind us the air changed.Levi dropped his suit jacket on the chair, loosened his tie, and turned to face me. His eyes were

His Tour Bus TemptationChapter 1: The Singer Who Shouldn’t Have Looked at Me TwiceI never wanted to work for a band like Hollow Saint.I needed the money. That was the entire story. Three months behind on rent, a sister who still thought I had my shit together, and a friend of a friend who knew someone on the crew. One phone call later I was standing outside a loading dock in Chicago with a laminated pass around my neck and a duffel bag that contained everything I owned that still fit.Hollow Saint was huge. Arena-level huge. The kind of band that sold out nights in minutes and left hotel rooms destroyed on principle. Their lead singer, River Kane, was the face of it all—beautiful in a way that looked almost illegal, voice like smoke and broken glass, openly, unapologetically queer. The tabloids loved him. The fans worshipped him. I had never once listened to their music on purpose.I told myself I was just there to move gear, tune guitars, and keep my head down until the tour leg e

Chapter 3: The City That Broke the Last LieDetroit smelled like rain and old concrete.We rolled in just after dawn. The crew scattered to the venue for load-in while the band disappeared into black SUVs. River caught my wrist before I could follow the other techs off the bus. His fingers were warm. The look he gave me was not.“Stay,” he said simply.I stayed.The cabin door shut behind the last of the departing footsteps. Suddenly the bus felt too quiet, too small, still heavy with the scent of what we’d done in the dark hours before. My body remembered every second of it—the wet heat of his mouth, the slide of his cock against mine, the way I’d come apart under his hand while the highway lights streaked past. I’d spent the remaining ride half-dozing against his chest and telling myself it was a one-time crack in the foundation. Nothing more.River leaned against the closed door and looked at me like he could hear the lie forming.“You’re already trying to put it back in the box,”

Seared by the Head ChefChapter 1: The Man Who Ran the Pass Like a GodI never wanted to work at Ember.The restaurant was the kind of place that charged three hundred dollars a head and still had a three-month waitlist. Two Michelin stars. A head chef who had once made a grown line cook cry on camera during a documentary. I needed the money and the line on my résumé more than I needed my pride. So when the call came that they’d lost a grill cook two weeks before a major reviewer was due, I said yes.I told myself I could survive anything for six months.Then I walked into the kitchen at 1:47 p.m. on a Tuesday and saw him.Adrian Voss stood at the pass like he owned the air itself. Tall. Broad through the shoulders in a way that made the pristine white chef’s coat look tailored. Dark hair pushed back from a face that belonged on the cover of something expensive—sharp jaw, straight nose, a mouth that looked like it rarely smiled and never needed to. His sleeves were rolled to the elbow