Who Said 'If You Can'T Spot The Sucker In Your First Half Hour At The Table, Then You Are The Sucker' In Rounders?

Alex’s life is a wild whirlwind at this rich hockey school. He’s a poor scholarship kid, but he’s killer on the ice. Damien, the hot, cruel team captain, hates him — but can’t stop touching him while claiming he's not gay. He slams Alex hard into the boards and whispers dirty words that make Alex’s body burn with heat and shame. Then Lila, Damien’s crazy childhood friend, wants Alex for herself. She has dangerous secrets that can destroy him if he says no. But Jax arrives — a kind, sexy hockey star who truly cares. He wants to protect Alex and make him his. Now Alex is trapped between hate, obsession, and desire. One wrong move and he loses everything. This steamy MM hockey romance is full of hot hate-to-love tension, dirty obsession, and a love triangle that will leave you aching.

“Admit it,” He growls, slamming my back against the wall, his body caging me in. “You like it when I piss you off.” My breath catches as our bodies collide, heat and hatred sparking between us. I hate Dorian Hayes with every fibre of my being...so why can't I pull away? For Noah Carter, hockey isn’t just a game–it’s an escape. The golden boy captain with a killer smile and a secret he can’t afford to slip, Noah’s carefully crafted lie is falling apart with every practice and every time he locks eyes with HIM. HIM. Dorian Hayes is fire on the ice with only one mission--Make it to the NHL. But there’s one person he never expected to see when he got in Bridgewater to play for the Artic-Blades. Noah Fucking Carter. The one person he hates with everything inside him. Cue in a plan to destroy everything Noah stands for. But every time their bodies collide on the ice, Dorian can’t deny the pull. It’s infuriating, maddening…and addictive. He doesn’t want to want Noah, but when their rivalry shifts from Icy stares to scalding touches, Dorian is forced to confront a truth he’s spent years skating away from: sometimes, the person you hate the most is the only one who truly sees you.

Reese: I know all too well the sting of heartbreak and rejection. Not a lot of men can handle a woman of my stature. I only hope that love is out there. When I agreed to meet up with my Frost cousins and their kids for a Christmas event after another breakup, I didn't expect sparks to fly with their friend Don Hunter. Don: I was surprised to be invited by my coworker Darius Frost to join his family and friends at the holiday lights at the park. It's not like I have family in the area, and I'm self-aware enough to know I wouldn't have some hot date. So why is the gorgeous Reese Nikolaidis giving me the time of day? It has to be a joke because she is out of my league. This is a standalone story but is the four book in the Ravenwood series. Book 1 - The Princess of Ravenwood Book 2 - Chasing Kitsune Book 3 - Expect The Unexpected Book 4 - Out Of My League Book 5 - Man's Best Wingman

"Arms up baby, let me play with you. Have you ever been played, Allen?" Her voice was raspy, her breath fanned my ear. She took my wrists and wrapped my silk tie on it, she was straddling me. Her pink perky nipples teased my face, making me let out another moan. "Lou baby, just ride me alre..." she shut me up by kissing me hard. ***** Nothing prepared him for the one forsaken night he decides to go out clubbing with his buddies. It was the night that he met her, he didn't realize that he had fallen for her right then and there. Allen is a young, successful, filthy rich world champion surfer with a face to match. Louise is a smart young business owner, with a group of sassy sidekicks. Can opposites attract? Can their best friends strengthen their feelings?

They were supposed to be on the same team. Santos Khyle arrived in Seattle as the Soul Reapers' most anticipated rookie in years, a natural-born scorer with something to prove and a chip on his shoulder the size of a regulation puck. Gunner Jäger had been tearing up the ice as the team's feared enforcer for two seasons, and he had zero interest in sharing his spotlight with some orange-haired twenty-one year old who looked at him like he was a problem to be managed. From the moment they met, it was war. On the ice, they were a disaster. Off it, they were worse. Screaming matches in corridors. Fists through locker room walls. A live on-air brawl that made every highlight reel in North America and earned them both a suspension, a lecture from their furious coach, and the undivided attention of the entire hockey world. Nobody could stand to watch them together. Nobody could look away either. Because underneath the fury and the bruises and the months of spectacular mutual destruction, something else was building. Something neither of them had language for yet. Something that felt uncomfortably like the only fight either of them was actually afraid to lose. The Soul Reapers are one playoff run away from everything. Gunner and Khyle are one honest conversation away from falling apart completely. Or maybe, just maybe, from finally figuring out what they are to each other. Pucking Up the Ice is a slow burn MM romance set in the brutal and beautiful world of professional hockey. It contains explicit language, on-ice violence, emotional gut punches, two men who are absolutely terrible at feelings, and a love story that had to break everything before it could build something worth keeping.

My hand wraps around his wrist, and I try to break free of his hold. It’s no use, so I just dig my fingers into the tendons there and glare at him. “What the hell’s your problem?” His forearm presses against my sternum as he crowds me more, ice-blue mismatched eyes full of unchecked rage. “You’re my fucking problem. Hockey’s little golden boy, coming out here with your good game tonight, acting like you own the sport.” He’s trying to get under my skin, but it won’t work. Unlike him, I don’t let my temper control me, and I definitely don’t toss hands at the drop of a hat whenever I can’t rein in my feelings. Which is why he doesn’t get the reaction he was hoping for, and I snort out a laugh. “Seriously? It was a compliment. One I meant, so just take it and move the fuck on.” “Move the fuck on?”