Romans & histoires Good Hockey Romance Books

“You'd taken me to the City of Love as a surprise. What was I supposed to think?” “That we'd only been dating for two months,” he said, shaking his head. “It was a little too soon for marriage.” Looking back, Ollie realized that those two months had been some of the longest months in his entire life. Being with Nikki had been exhausting. It was just too much effort to be her boyfriend. When they weren't talking business or making love, they were fighting. It was so much different than his interactions with Elsie. The complete opposite, really.

“Your mansion. Tall gates. Sneaky Damien sneaking the guy disaster inside. Romantic.” “Not romantic. Putting you under control.” I kept driving, jaw clenched so tight it hurt. Every time he shifted I smelled him, booze and sweat and that stupid sweet cologne he wears that makes my mouth water. I hated him for it. Hated how my cock was throbbing like it had an issue against my brain. Straight guys don’t get hard over their teammate’s drunk giggles. Except apparently I did now. Thanks, Alex. Ruined my whole goddamn life in six months. He kept wiggling, legs spreading, hand now rubbing himself through his jeans like he forgot I was there. “Damien, come on. Feel how hard I am. It’s stupid. Hurts

I am greeted by the players as I make way through the stench. While fumbling, to get my key in the lock, Alfie questions “Is that what you're wearing tonight to have dinner with my mom.” “You do mean dinner with you and your mom, right?” I ask hesitantly. These boys and their attempts to set me up this summer have got me riled up. Let’s just say Candy wasn’t the last puck bunny that Quickie brought by. I had the unique pleasure to see the disappointment in the eyes of Tiffany, Foxy, Bambi, just to name a few. Even Kingston “King”, my left defenseman from Russia, brought over his 60-something year old aunt in an attempt to ‘save me from the single life’. She was nice enough and damn, her

“They work." "They terrify me." "They should.” Sandra folds one elegant leg over the other. "The public doesn't see Mercer versus Locke as a hockey rivalry anymore." Jim nods. "What do they see?" She smiles. "They see mythology. They're opposite archetypes.” She gestures toward the screen. "Locke is discipline, Mercer is chaos. Locke is cold precision, Mercer is pure instinct. They’re the two biggest personalities in the league, and every time they're photographed within ten feet of one another our engagement explodes."

Adrian leaned back slightly against the desk, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "It's stupid, right?" "It's not stupid" Elliot sighed softly before sitting at the edge of the bed. "Why do you want to play hockey?" Adrian shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe because anytime I see you on the ice, you're always happy. I wanna be happy too" he said. Elliot scoffed lightly. "So hockey makes you happy?" he asked. "Maybe" Adrian replied. "How about we do this? Go think of what really makes you happy. This next time we have this talk, you'll tell me what really makes you happy" Elliot said.

His mouth crashed into mine before I could even blink, the kiss so deep, so fiercely possessive that it tasted like the adrenaline we’d been running on all morning, mixed with the sudden, terrifying release of a pressure valve that had been screwed down too tight for weeks. I groaned against his lips, my hands automatically tearing at the collar of his hockey jersey, my fingers fumbling with the heavy laces and the thick fabric until I managed to bunch it up over his chest, wanting nothing more than to feel the solid, burning heat of his skin against mine without the barrier of the team colors between us.

“Excuse me?” “You heard me.” Jax stepped closer, towering over him. His lip curled. “Figure skaters prancing around in sparkly shit, bending over for each other in the locker room. Bet you love sharing showers, huh? Getting all close and personal with your ‘partners.’” A couple of hockey players nearby chuckled, glancing over with interest. Elias’s jaw tightened. He was used to the occasional jab, sports worlds colliding, but this felt targeted. Personal. The guy’s eyes burned with something darker than casual homophobia.

The way the camera catches things the naked eye misses. He stepped closer, leaning against the neighboring locker. "The way you and Miller look at each other... it’s not hockey, Liam. It’s something else.And very vulnerable." "I told you, it’s chemistry. I can’t be fighting with my teammate who was once my roommate," I snapped, finally looking him in the eye. "If you’re so interested in film, maybe you should spend more time studying the plays so you could be better on the rink and less time playing detective."

"The bet is over. You won. Everyone knows. You don't have to keep playing the part of the attentive boyfriend in your own house." His expression shifted. The corners of his jaw tightened, a small muscle pulsing there. "The bet." "Yeah. The one where you see if the girl with the viral breakup is pathetic enough to fall for the hockey captain. Remember that bet?" Ryan didn't flinch. Instead, he reached out, his hand slamming against the shelf next to my head. The sound echoed in the small space. He leaned in, his face inches from mine, his scent—mint and something metallic, like the ice, suffocating me.

They whispered when they thought he wasn't listening. “Captain is extra pissed today.” “Probably still mad about the loss.” If only they knew the real reason. Across town, Jaxon was doing the exact same thing with the Storm Hawks. He skated up and down the ice like something was chasing him. His ankle still hurt a little from the game, but he ignored it. Every time he closed his eyes during breaks, he saw Zane's shocked face after the kiss. He kept waving it off. It was nothing… he thought. Just a stupid mistake, leftover anger from the game.