Novel & Cerita Best Hockey Romance Novels

"Try me." Before I could say anything, he leaned in and kissed that exact spot. It started soft, then he sucked lightly, his tongue brushing my skin. A small moan slipped out of me. It felt way too good. He pulled back after a few seconds, admiring his work with a satisfied smirk. "There. A nice little mark. Looks good on you." I touched the spot, feeling the warmth. "You're trouble, Asher." "The best kind," he said, voice lower now. His eyes had darkened, staring at my lips like he wanted to devour me. The vibe between us shifted. Our casual hockey conversation got intense really quick. Asher's hand moved to my waist, drawing me in.

Specifically to the pages sitting next to his keyboard – a cover page visible with what appeared to be a very muscular torso sketched in pencil. “Cole.” He reached for the pages. Too slow. “Was that a romance novel?” He slammed his laptop shut like that would somehow help. “It’s literary fiction with romantic elements.” “There was a shirtless hockey player on the cover page.” “...Research.” Sienna looked at me. I looked at Sienna. For one second – one brief, ridiculous, beautiful second – the weight of everything lifted and we were just two girls in a boy’s apartment discovering that the 6′4" redheaded goalie with the deadpan delivery was secretly writing love stories.

Chapter One Allison If my brother Zane found out what I was wearing under his best friend’s hockey jersey, he’d probably have a stroke right here in the luxury suite. The jersey belonged to Roman Greyson. Number 87. It was massive, made of heavy black-and-silver mesh that swallowed my frame, smelling exactly like him—expensive cedar wood, icy rink air, and a faint hint of pure, intoxicating male heat. It fell down to the middle of my thighs, completely hiding the ultra-tight, emerald-green silk dress I’d poured myself into for later.

"Touchy subject. Got it. So is it daddy issues or new boyfriend issues? Because that look on your face screams 'man trouble.'" I pressed my fingers to my temples. "Why are you here, Ryan?" "Funny you should ask." He leaned forward, elbows on the table, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. "I got myself a hobby. Joined the NHL." I stared at him. Blinked. Stared some more. "I'm sorry, what?" "NHL, baby." He tapped the table twice. "Chicago Wolves. Just got called up." My brain tried to process this information and failed spectacularly.

The bond between us stayed steady even in the middle of the war. The sudden spark of our bond flared up my spine, a wave of sea salt cutting through the cold stadium air. Noah’s eyes met mine through his visor, burning with pure, unyielding devotion. "Nice try, Bennett," I muttered as we skated past each other. "Just getting started, Cross," Noah replied, his voice rough and steady. During a stoppage near the penalty box, Noah skated past the New York bench. His gloved hand dropped, his fingers brushing my hip beneath my heavy padding. The touch was quick, hidden from the refs, but the biological heat between us burned like wildfire.

She nods. “Always gets me, my heart is racing like crazy. Yours?” she asks. “So fast, honestly, I thought basketball which I usually cover was exciting but honestly, hockey is pure adrenalin.” This makes her laugh. “You can say that again, wait, he’s got the puck. Did you see Hawk’s play? That man is good.” Do I detect a bit of a liking for Alex’s wingman? “Are you and Hawk together?” She laughs at my question but does blush.

“You’re selfish, Hau Alexander Kane.” I tilted my head. “And you’re predictable, Alice Hau.” She adjusted herself on the bed, her movements stiff. “We’ve allowed you to play hockey, but as for this sexuality and romance issue, end it.” My brows furrowed. “End what?” “This nonsense,” she said. “Whatever… phase this is. Your involvement with that Eve girl. Your behavior. All of it. You need to focus on Geneva if you want to continue hockey.” I stared at her for a second… then burst into laughter.

“Let’s get this over with.” She leaned forward and the blouse gaped more. “So, Zane. The fans are dying to know. A man like you, rich, famous, built like that, why no girlfriend?” I stared until she shifted. She tried again. “Rumors say you’re getting serious with Sophia Lang. That you two are engaged? Care to comment on that for the fans?” I leaned forward slowly. “Let me explain something. You’ve been tugging at that blouse since I walked in. Either button it or stop pretending this is about hockey.”

As his biological heart swelled with a massive wave of emotion, his intellect instantly integrated two distinct realizations: happily-ever-after parameters did actively exist for his independent life path, and the primary plotline for his upcoming hot hockey romance manuscript was going to operate as a deeply personal, autobiographical file. "Deliver full verbal confirmation," the alpha rasped from the ice. Val dropped his own knees directly onto the frozen surface, and Finn immediately wrapped his powerful arms around his chassis to pull his frame tight against his chest. "My system demands a singular condition," Val murmured against his ear. "Oh, your soft strength is actively introducing

"And I'll recommend that the league drop the investigation." "Thank you." "Don't thank me yet." Dr. Chen pulled something out of her desk drawer. A book manuscript. Thick. Printed. The cover page read: "Love on Ice: The True Story of Hockey's Most Controversial Couple. By Emily Chen, Ph.D." Damian's blood ran cold. "What is that?" "My book." Dr. Chen set the manuscript on the coffee table. "I've been writing it for six months. Interviews. Research. Analysis. It covers everything—your rivalry, your relationship, the blackmail, the shooting, the wedding."