Hockey Romance Books Series Novels & Stories

She could barely keep up with my passion, even though she was trying to dominate me. Suddenly, she pulled away, stunning me and making me crave more. She sat up and smiled down at me, making me roll my eyes. “You are playing with fire, baby,” I said and grabbed her thigh, then stroked the lace materials of her socks. “What if I want to get burned,” Sandy said and started to roll her hips, grinding my cock.

"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.

Everything about him felt easy. When he asked me to be his girlfriend, I didn’t hesitate. But he left. The moment he got the opportunity to become a hockey player, he chose it and left me behind. I remembered how broken I felt back then. How I cried for days, how I waited for him to come back, to explain, to say something that would make it hurt less. He never did. That was the moment I started hating hockey. Because to me, it took my love away. I almost forgot Duke was standing there until I felt his presence shift slightly beside me.

Noah got to Detroit a little after four in the afternoon, exhausted. The constant noise in his own head from hockey, Adrian, Chase and the drugs under his bed back at South Quad felt tangled together now, impossible to separate cleanly anymore. But through all of it, one thing had stayed at the back of his mind. Justin. He had not heard from him in days.

"She sent me a video of her watching the final minute. She was screaming at the TV so loud the neighbors called to check on her." "At least she likes hockey," Toby laughed. "My girl, Elena, still thinks a power play is something they do in politics. But man, I miss her. Seven days is a long time to be away." The table started a round of Girlfriend Talk.It was the kind of conversation that happens when a bunch of guys have been stuck in a hotel together for a week. "I’m taking Jess to that new Italian place as soon as we get back," the goalie said. "I promised her a real date if we won the trophy. She’s already picked out her dress."

The days when Harper and Chicago were fighting for space in my head. Richard watched my expression carefully. Then delivered the one sentence he’d driven all this way to say. “Tell me something, Logan.” His smile never reached his eyes. “How many NHL careers have started by putting a college romance ahead of hockey?” The room went completely silent. I wanted to tell him he was wrong. I wanted to tell him Harper wasn’t a distraction. That she made me better. That she reminded me who I was outside the rink. But for one split second… One awful split second…

She chuckled "Thankyou for loving me even I'm a jerk" "Your welcome and you're still a jerk now" "No I'm not" With that we end the night. 4 years later.. "Here" I'm playing basketball now, I always love basketball. I have been studying bussiness in college and Olivia is studying design in UK. We talk everyday through skype and calls. 4 years ago on december I went there and guess what? I saw Olivia with a western handsome guy, she linked her hand to him. I was so mad..

she hisses. But ignoring Cassandra is impossible. Every flick of her hair, every hand on Ethan’s shoulder it’s all a reminder: she’s the queen now, and I’m the ghost of last season. Later, I’m digging through my locker when a shadow falls over me. “Careful, Hart. People might start thinking you care about hockey again.” I slam the locker shut, finding Jax leaning casually against the one beside it. That damn smirk is back, scar catching the light. “What do you want?” I snap.

“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."