Hockey Smut Books Novels & Stories

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 locker room of the New York Glaciers smelled like wintergreen, expensive cologne, and male sweat. To most fans, this was the smell of victory. To Oliver Hartley, it just smelled like forty thousand dollars of student debt. Oliver adjusted the strap of his heavy massage kit. He was twenty-three years old, with messy blonde curls that refused to stay flat and bright blue eyes that usually held a spark of mischief. But today, those eyes were tired. He had graduated top of his class in nursing, but nursing didn't pay enough to clear his loans fast. Being a massage assistant for a star hockey team did.

Also do check out my other books, all are COMPLETED: First Sokolov Brothers book: Bride To Be; My Boss Is My Tormentor; CAGED- A Dark Billionaire Captîve Romance; His Broken Princess; His Steel Princess.

Pink folds parted slightly, clit swollen and peeking out, wetness shining in the sunlight streaming through the window. Dominic’s hand moved—unzipping, freeing himself. His cock sprang out—thick, veined, head flushed dark red, pre-cum beading at the slit. He stroked—slow, firm—eyes locked on her pussy. Isabella stayed bent—head under the cabinet, pretending to search. But she knew he was watching. Knew he was touching himself. She arched her back a fraction—spreading her legs wider—giving him an even clearer view of her dripping entrance.

Because somewhere beneath all my frustration with Mason sat another uncomfortable truth, I was reacting. Meanwhile Mason always looked two seconds away from smirking through my breakdown. I hated that. Ethan noticed the shift in my expression and smiled faintly. “See? You’re thinking now.” “I don’t like when you sound smarter than me.” “Oh I absolutely do.” I shook my head softly before finally leaning back in my chair. For the first time all day, my thoughts felt less tangled. Across from me, Ethan lifted his drink slightly toward me. “To surviving emotionally unavailable hockey players.”

His hands slid under my hoodie, grabbing my breasts through my bra, squeezing them roughly. “Damian… please… someone will see us…” I gasped, trying to push him away. “Let them,” he smirked, sliding his hands under my bra to pinch my nipples. I bit down on my lip to keep from moaning out loud. My pussy throbbed, my panties drenched with shameful desire. “You’re such a dirty little slut,” he whispered in my ear, rubbing his hard cock against my stomach. “Look how wet you are just from me touching you.”

😅 At least the main two smuts will be posted in their full explicit detail. Though, there might be a couple of smutty parts that happened during the main plotline that might fade into black on Good Novel. And everything that happened after the plotline and isn’t relevant for the future plot will be written into extras that will be available in the published version only. The list of currently planned extras (S tag means it will definitely include smut): * [S] Noah’s and Levi’s honeymoon * [S] Levi and Noah going dolphin riding again * [S] a day in Levi’s and Noah’s married life, several years later.

"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."

he smiles, running his fingers through my curls as I pull out of his arms. “I thought so too.” I smile, still refusing to cry. “Okay, so remember, tomorrow you need to set your online profile up, and I want you to use the pen name “The Smut Slut”. I nod, making a mental note of the name. “The quicker you set it up, the quicker you can start working. All dates will be run by me first just to make sure you're not being sent off with a fucking weirdo, a killer, or someone who's just bad news. I'll take care of you like I promised, Savage, so don't worry your pretty little head about a thing.” He knocks back a shot of tequila and smiles, grabbing Lexi and pulling her onto his lap. “Alright, I'll

“There it is.” I looked at her confused. “What?” “The hockey voice.” My stomach tightened in an instant, and I immediately looked away. But I could still feel Harper leaning closer. “You know,” she said quietly, “ it’s nice hearing you talk about hockey again.” Suddenly the room felt smaller, and I found myself staring at the wall—at the photos I’d never bothered taking down, at the medals hidden inside a drawer. At a version of myself I didn’t want to speak about until God knows when.