Hot Hockey Players Novels & Stories

“They’re just finishing up the group shots. Rhett’s been… cooperative enough.” I followed his gaze, and the world tilted. Out there, gliding easily across the rink with his team, was Rhett Voss. Full hockey gear clung to him like a second skin—shoulder pads, jersey, gloves, the sharp gleam of his helmet tucked under one arm. His dark hair was damp, his jaw shadowed, his shoulders impossibly broad beneath the gear. He wasn’t the tallest of the men out there, but it didn’t matter. He commanded space without asking. Without trying.

As if that’s not bad enough, now they are kissing at hockey games, like some madly-in-love couple. I hate it. I hate it so much. I do not wish to let them get away with it so easily. There’s got to be something I can do. That is when I see him, tearing across the rink. All six foot five, hunk of male sexiness. Even in gear and paddings, it’s easy to make out the form of Aiden Cross, hot on the enemy’s tail. He’s feral in his pursuit and my breath hitches as he steals the puck from the enemy’s stick. He switches direction with the swift grace that only a pro can pull off and the crowd is going crazy as he passes the puck to another player. The Omega team pass the puck to one another, gliding

DOMINIC "A hockey team, Dominic? Seriously?" Jax stood on the balcony overlooking the yard, watching as two dozen teenagers and young adults—the Blackridge 'Howlers' hockey squad unloaded crates from the back of an ice-truck. "They’re not just kids, Jax," I said, leaning over the blueprint spread across the railing. "They’re athletes with a specialized skill set. They know how to move on ice, they know how to coordinate at high speeds, and more importantly, they have access to industrial-grade liquid nitrogen and high-tensile netting."

"Hi, babygirl." "Father. You did not tell me the 'dumb jock' was an actual hockey star," I growl out, my eyes glued to the man on my computer, wearing a blue jersey with the number '17'. MY day of birth, by the way, "He is a very famous person. He's been on TV! He won a big flashy trophy called the Stanley Cup. ESPN has a thirty minute segment discussing him!"

As soon as the referee’s whistle blew and the championship tournament officially began, the stadium exploded into a deafening roar. The puck dropped onto the smooth ice, and the battle was instantly on. The Hawks were an incredibly skilled and disciplined team, but their European opponents were an absolute nightmare to face physically. Every single one of the European players was huge, towering over six feet tall, built like solid brick walls, and playing with an intensely rough and tough style. They slammed their heavy bodies against the boards, swinging their hockey sticks aggressively. However, Julian quickly realized something as he skated smoothly across the ice. The Europeans played ro

Yet here I am, front row, about to watch Rhett train with his team. And you know what? Hockey might actually be… nice. Their jerseys are cool, the energy is electric, and the men? Ohh God! I’ve clearly been missing out, because hockey players are ridiculously hot. Tall, broad, all muscle and power. I’ve never noticed before, probably because, like I said, I don’t do sports, but watching Rhett in that jersey, with those skates and that focused, determined look, I might be falling for this sport. My stomach flutters with excitement as Rhett skates out onto the ice. The coach blows a whistle and the whole team takes off, slicing across the rink so fast the air feels like it shifts.

Lila wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. He knew she was lying. Before the awkward silence could grow worse, a loud voice suddenly called from behind him. “Ryder!” Both of them turned. A group of hockey players were walking across the parking lot, laughing and pushing each other. Lucas Hale was among them. The team’s goalie. He was taller than most of the players, with messy blond hair and a calm expression. His eyes briefly scanned the area before landing on Lila and Ethan. Lucas slowed down slightly.

Below me, on the ice, both teams were finishing their pre-game warmups. Mark Spence was at center ice, taking practice wrist shots. Every time the puck hit the back of the net, the home crowd erupted into deafening cheers. He looked larger than life—flawless, dominant, radiating the untouchable aura of a star captain. On the opposite side of the red line, Ryder Callahan circled his net. He was a creature of pure, dark focus. His black Westbridge jersey made him look like a shadow on the ice, his dark eyes occasionally flashing upward toward my video box.

Ryan then took his iPad, then scrolled down then showed it. "The new player of National Hockey Team, Logan Brooks, embarrasses himself at his first appearance, in the team's party." The statement was written in bold. Then down there, was a picture of Logan at the party, his face twisted, his hands clenched at the sides. And behind him, was Nyra Owen. Opposite him, was Ryan Hayes. "See?" He scrolled down at the comments. "Damn, he is still young for a team like National Hockey team." "What? Nothing like that has happened before for our legendary National hockey team."

KAIDA’S POV Hockey players are known for their hotness and handsome faces, but their personalities and love-lives are nothing to write home about. It’d be almost impossible to find a hockey player who is responsible and doesn’t cheat on their women. They are rare. 99% of hockey players are playboys. And the number one on the list was Maverick and number two goes to Liam. The two men in my life. Liam, my Ex-boyfriend of two years, cheated on me with his childhood best friend and Maverick?