Caged (Gold Hockey #11) - Elise Faber Page 0,78
worst thing ever, “Mike Stewart.”
Oh shit.
—Backhand, books2read.com/Backhand
Boarding
Gold Hockey Book #3
Get your copy at books2read.com/Boarding
Mandy
Hockey players had the best asses.
No pancake bottoms, these men—and women—could fill out a pair of jeans. She wanted to squeeze it, to nibble it, bounce a dime—
Mandy dropped her chin to her chest, losing sight of the Sorting Hat cupcakes she’d been pondering.
Blane with his yummy ass had a unique way of distracting her.
No, it wasn’t even distraction, per se. He had always been able to get under her skin.
And that was very, very bad for her.
“Ugh,” she said, tossing her phone onto her desk and standing, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to sit still now.
Nope, she needed about forty laps in the pool and a good hard fu—
Run, her mind blurted, almost yelling at the mental voice of her inner devil. A good hard run.
Unfortunately, the cajoling tone wasn’t completely drowned out. Some sexy horizontal time with Blane would be more fun—
But the rest of the enticing words were lost as the roar of the crowd suddenly penetrated through the layers of concrete. Her stomach twisted. Mandy could tell, even before her eyes made it to the television, that it wasn’t in celebration of a goal or a good hit either.
This was fury, a collective of outrage.
She was on her feet the moment she saw the prone form lying so still face down on the ice.
Her gut twisted when she spotted the curving line of a numeral two on the back of the player’s jersey.
“Not him,” she said and the words were familiar, a sentiment she had whispered, had prayed a thousand times before. She needed the camera angle to shift, for her to be able to see more clearly who was hurt. “Not him.”
Then Dr. Carter was on the ice and the player moved slightly, rolling away from the camera, giving a full shot of his back and the matching twos adorning his jersey.
Fuck. Not him. Not Blane.
And that was when she saw the pool of blood.
—Boarding, books2read.com/Boarding
Benched
Gold Hockey Book #4
Get your copy at books2read.com/Benched
Max
He started up the car, listening and chiming in at the right places as Brayden talked all things video game.
But his mind was unfortunately stuck on the fact that women were not to be trusted.
He snorted. Brit—the Gold’s goalie and the first female in the NHL—and Mandy—the team’s head trainer—would smack him around for that sentiment, so he silently amended it to: most women were not to be trusted.
There. Better, see?
Somehow, he didn’t think they’d see.
He parked in the school’s lot, walked Brayden in, and received the appropriate amount of scorn from the secretary for being thirty minutes late to school, then bent to hug Brayden.
“I’ll pick you up today,” he said.
Brayden smiled and hugged him tightly. Then he whispered something in his ear that hit Max harder than a two-by-four to the temple.
“If you got me a new mom, we wouldn’t be late for school.”
“Wh-what?” Max stammered.
“Please, Dad? Can you?”
And with that mind fuck of an ask, Brayden gave him one more squeeze and pushed through the door to the playground, calling, “Love you!” over his shoulder.
Then he was gone, and Max was standing in the office of his son’s school struggling to comprehend if he had actually just heard what he’d heard.
A new mom?
Fuck his life.
—Benched, books2read.com/Benched
Breakaway
Gold Hockey Book #5
Get your copy at books2read.com/BreakawayGold
Blue
“Thanks for the ride.”
“Try not to go out and get a fresh bimbo to ride tonight. I hear STIs on are the rise in the city.”
Blue sighed, turned back to face her. “Really?”
She shrugged, smirk teasing the edges of her mouth, drawing his focus to the lushness of her lips. “Just watching out for Max’s teammate.”
He rolled his eyes. “Not hardly.”
“Okay, how about I’m trying to prevent you from spreading STIs to the female populace.”
“I’m clean, and I’m smart,” he told her. “Condoms all the way.”
“Ew.”
Except there was something about the way she said it that made Blue stiffen and take notice. Because . . . he stared into her eyes, watched as the pale blue darkened to royal, saw her lips part, and her suck in a breath.
Holy shit.
“You’re attracted to me.”
Her jaw dropped. “No fucking way,” she said, too quickly, pink dancing on the edges of her cheekbones. “You’re delusional.”
Blue got close.
Real close.
Anna licked her lips.
And fuck it all, he kissed that luscious mouth.
—Breakaway, www.books2read.com/BreakawayGold
Breakout
Gold Hockey Book #6
Get your copy at books2read.com/Breakout
PR-Rebecca
“You should go have your turn.”
“I’ll get mine,” he said with another shrug.
She frowned, honestly confused. “You don’t want—”
Suddenly he was