“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. She was quick enough to turn off the voice recording and hold her phone in her lap.
I arched an eyebrow at her. “I know when someone is faking it.”
“Happen often?” she quipped. Her eyes snapped with something that hadn’t been there before; anger. No, maybe it was there and I hadn’t wanted to see it.
I smiled. A real smile. She wasn’t the only one putting on an act. Frankly, it felt good to drop it.
“Only out in public,” I replied with confidence. “In private, it’s always real, and satisfying.”
I expected her to blush, but she didn’t. Instead, she gave me an epic eye roll. Yeah, I guess I deserved that.
“Sure,” she said sarcastically. She crossed her legs at her knees.
I stared, I admit it, but she had longer legs than I remember, and bigger breasts. Were they real? I tried to get a good look when she entered the room, but I couldn’t tell.
I shook my head to clear it. “You didn’t answer my question. Why did you pretend you didn’t know me?”
“Why did you?” she shot back. “I had no reason to believe you did. It was a long time ago.”
It was. And it wasn’t. The fuzzy memories of high school came back in a rush and almost knocked the wind out of me. I lowered my arms and gripped the sides of the chair beside my thighs.
I lowered my face and closed my eyes for a few moments.
“Yeah, it was.” I looked back up at her. Her green eyes watched me intently. Had they always been that color? They weren’t contacts, or she wouldn’t be wearing glasses too. I guess they were then. My mother used to have a jade statue almost that exact shade. Where was that statue now? I had no idea. Maybe Dad threw it out after…
Before I could say another word, she spoke.
“Why do you think I did it?” She gave me a challenging look through her long lashes.
I hissed in a silent breath through my teeth. “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe you thought I would open up more if you acted like a groupie.”
She snorted. Now there was the Beckie I knew.
I rested an elbow on the arm of the chair and hid a smile by rubbing my upper lip, just under my nose. I could use a shave.
“If you were actually Hawkeye, it might not be an act,” she said.
I couldn’t hold back a grin now. “I can’t believe you actually pretended not to know who the Hulk was.”
She responded with a smirk. “I can’t believe you think you have his physique.”
Touché. “It sounds like you’re the green one,” I retorted. I puffed out my chest. It didn’t hurt to remind her how fit I was. It took a lot of work to get to this point and I was proud of it. The fact women seemed to like it was a bonus.
She barked a laugh. “Hardly.”
I shrugged with one shoulder. “At least I didn’t compare myself to Thor.” I only did that in the mirror.
“Not in public,” she said, shooting my words back at me. “What about in private?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She seemed bitter about something, but I enjoyed the banter. Other than Mary, few women were so real. Once Becca stopped being fake, that was.
“Not if you were the last guy on Earth,” she replied.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. She was quick enough to turn off the voice recording and hold her phone in her lap.
He picks me up easily, one arm lifting me and pressing me against him at the same time, the feel of his hand under my ass, the hard muscle against my side thrilling. He’s completely in control and I’ve never been more aroused. Never felt less inhibited. All I want to do is touch him. Kiss him. Connect and be connected, Hamish’s tongue finding new ways to explore me, his arms encircling my back, fingers at the nape of my neck, stroking the soft skin there as he kisses me. Until I am just movement, touch, caress. “Ye taste so good,” he whispers against my mouth as we come up for air. My body is suspended by his sheer strength, as if I’m nothing yet everything to him.Read More
The two of us being roommates was bad news. We’re either going to kill each other or I’m gonna give her the best kiss of her life. I’m not sure which is worse.
The Philadelphia Bulldogs hockey team are back, in this all new-standalone novel. Books can be enjoyed in any order. If you love a steamy enemies to lovers romance, this one is for you.
Get your copy of Against The Boards by @danicaflynnauthor today ➞
“So, when can you start?”
I stared at the blonde woman in front of me in disbelief. I thought the interview was going well but not that well.
“Whenever you need me,” I said with a smile.
When I saw the posting for the sales manager position with the Philadelphia Bulldogs, I applied on a whim. I never thought they would call me back or offer it to me on the spot. I needed to get out of St. Catharines and would have taken any job. Literally any job if it meant working for an NHL team. Even if it meant leaving Canada.
Quinn smiled at me. “I’m gonna be honest: I need the position filled ASAP. Can you start tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?” I choked out.
“Do you need to give notice to your current employer?”
I shook my head.
After my messy break-up, I had been so gutted that I ended up quitting my job. Not the best plan when your ex-girlfriend kicked you out after you caught her cheating on you. Jobless and technically homeless, I had nothing holding me back from moving to a different country.
Quinn flipped through the paperwork on her desk. “Shit, you’re Canadian, right?”
“Oh, I don’t have to wait for a visa. I have dual citizenship.”
“Oh, perfect, because I’d rather not wait. We’re not in the playoffs again this year, but there’s a lot of prep work for next season.”
I stared at the Bulldogs’ calendar on the wall behind Quinn, and dread spread through me. This month’s photo depicted right-winger Tristan “TJ” Desjardins lobbing the puck into the back of the net. Kinda weird to be staring into the face of your twin brother during a job interview. Although, it might have explained why I applied for the job to begin with.
“There’s something I should tell you first,” I admitted, and I pointed to the calendar behind her. “That’s my brother.”
She stared at the photo of my brother on her wall and then looked at me curiously for a second. “Huh. Now that you mention it, I can see the resemblance.”
“We’re twins. Is that gonna be a conflict of interest?”
She tipped back her head and laughed.
I raised an eyebrow in confusion.
“Sorry. The GM’s my husband, so it’s funny you asked that. As long as we keep things professional, I don’t foresee it being an issue.”
A lot of NHL teams had fraternization policies, so it was interesting that the Bulldogs didn’t have one. The OHL team I worked for back home in Canada had a strict policy. Not that it ever mattered to me. I hadn’t been single. Or into douchey hockey players who reminded me too much of my brother.
“Can you start tomorrow?” she asked again.
She went over the information I needed for tomorrow and then walked me out of the office. She shook my hand in the hall. “I can’t wait for you to get started.”
“You don’t even have to wait a full twenty-four hours,” I said with a grin.
She waved goodbye to me, and then I walked outside. Once there, I finally took a breath.
Holy shit. I got a job with an actual NHL team!
Noah screwed the last leg of the bed together, and we hefted my memory foam mattress on top of the frame. Thank the hockey gods most of my teammates were like me — over six feet tall and strong. I could have put this together myself, but Noah was good with his hands and too nice to say no when you asked him for help.
Noah wiped his hands on his jeans. “That should do it, eh?”
I nodded and wiped the sweat off my forehead. Moving freaking sucked. “Thanks. I would have asked T for help, but he ran out of here in a huff a few minutes ago.”
At twenty-five, I shouldn’t have been happy about having a roommate. But when my long-term girlfriend and I broke up, I needed a place to stay, and TJ had come in clutch. His old roommate, Noah, had moved in with his girlfriend, so TJ offered me his vacant room. After our season ended without a playoff run a couple of weeks ago, I high-tailed it back to Boston to visit my abuelos, but I came back today to move my stuff in. Mostly because my ex wanted me to get my stuff out of her house.
“Um…” Noah trailed off.
I raised an eyebrow at the pained look on his face. He rubbed the back of his neck. I spent a lot of time with the guy; I knew that was one of his nervous ticks. You don’t spend a lot of time on someone’s wing without learning a lot about them.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“You don’t know?” he asked and cringed.
Noah didn’t have time to explain what I didn’t know because I heard the front door of the condo open and TJ’s hyena laughter. Then I heard a familiar feminine voice with him, and I froze.
No. For the love of God, no.
I glared at Noah. “What is she doing here?”
Noah cringed. “I thought T told you since he texted me to come over here to distract you.”
“That’s why you came over to see if I needed help?” I asked.
I thought Noah was just being nice. The dude was a legit Canadian stereotype; I never thought he had an ulterior motive.
He ran a pale hand through his newly grown-out beard.
“Noah,” I growled.
“Rox is moving here.”
I felt all the blood rush to my head. I hoped he meant Philly and not here as in this condo.
Here’s the thing. I never planned on having a feud with Roxanne Desjardins. When I first met her, my brain shut off at the sight of the curvy, statuesque woman. Instead of saying, “Hello,” like a normal person, I blurted out, “Are those things real?” while staring at her tits.
I malfunctioned when I saw a beautiful woman, and she was one of the hottest women I had ever seen. Too bad she hated my guts.
Danica Flynn is a marketer by day, and a writer by nights and weekends. AKA she doesn’t sleep! She is a rabid hockey fan of both The Philadelphia Flyers and the Metropolitan Riveters. When not writing, she can be found hanging with her partner, playing video games, and reading a ton of books.
Love & Other Forbidden Things by @lyndseygallagherauthor is perfect romantic reading for fans of Lyssa Kay Adams, Tessa Bailey and Sally Thorne!
‘I’ll show you everything I know.’ His wink is weighted with promise. I slap his arm in a flirtatious feminine fashion that I had no idea I was capable of.
‘If only.’ I don’t even try to deny my attraction to him.
‘You want it, you know you do.’ It’s become our mantra.
‘I never denied it. But what I want, and what I can have are two entirely different things. As you very well know.’ I arch my eyebrows at him and take the kettlebell he offers.
‘I could give you another workout. One which I guarantee will have all of your muscles trembling.’ He stands a foot behind me, both of us watching ourselves in the immaculately polished glass. Strong hands grip my waist, angling my bottom backwards, just inches in front of his groin. I freeze as he traces the length of my spine. His hands settle gently on both my shoulders, before encouraging my body to drop downwards.
‘Squat,’ he whispers seductively in my ear.
The way his darkening eyes focus intently on my figure, exuding a hunger that no food could satisfy, sends my thighs bending and my ass dropping into the slowest, lowest squat of my life. The Lycra covering my backside slides against the soft cotton covering his front. Rising upwards again, I inch further back to brush against him a little harder. His eyes finally leave my body, locking into mine in the mirror – the heat from our stare could melt Antarctica in seconds.
When I reach a fully standing position again, his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. His deep raspy breath tickles my ear as he whispers, ‘Again.’
With that skinhead, those twinkling come-to-bed eyes and huge strong arms, Ollie Quinn is the perfect fantasy. He’s easily the sexiest guy I’ve ever seen. Not that I’d ever dare voice that out loud, because he’ll only ever be a fantasy. Even if by some magic miracle he ever did notice me, my brother, Eddie, would be certain to make sure he never acted on it.
Trembling fingers grip my jaw before running over the stubble on my head. A moan slips from her throat like she’s enjoying the sensation. Pressing myself further against her, her thighs part and my hips rock against hers. I grip her ankles and she attempts to wriggle out of her stilettos. The building desire is charged powerfully enough to fuel a freight train for a month.
‘Leave them on.’
Lyndsey Gallagher is the kindle bestselling author of six contemporary romance novels, with many more on the way! An unashamed romantic, forever in search of the next happy ever after, her debut novel The Seven Year Itch was inspired by the weekend she met her husband. Lyndsey lives in the West of Ireland overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. She enjoys long walks, deep talks and the occasional G & T!
Grab the series everyone’s been snort-laughing about!
This is a book about soccer – as it is called in USA – or football to Europeans. And yes, it is a pun on the game! And a Matchmaking site too.
The team in question is called The Sharks, and they are a mid-level team in the various hierarchies of soccer. There are national teams, professional leagues, and amateur leagues in soccer,but it is the professional leagues that concern the Sharks.
According to Wikipedia, soccer is the 3rd most watched sport in the USA, and the highest-level men’s professional soccer league in the U.S. is Major League Soccer. MLS began play in 1996 with 10 teams and has grown to 27 teams (24 in the United States and 3 in Canada), with further expansion planned to 30 teams. MLS is currently the largest first division professional soccer league in the world. The MLS season runs from February to November, with the regular-season winner awarded the Supporters’ Shield and the post-season winner awarded the MLS Cup.https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soccer_in_the_United_States
So having explained some of the necessary confusions, as it is important to the players in the books, we can now continue with the review.
Overall, this is a light, fun set of stories based around romance and male testosterone. Max is the author of Mr Match the matchmaking system that he has devised using a mathematical formula that is complex, but then he is, as well as being an excellent soccer player, a mathematical genius. He wants people to find the kind of love his parents had and in the cause of this designs a multi-million dollar business.
I have 2 small(ish) issues with the writer. There are mistakes that could have easily been rectified. One is spelling : Swannay is an Orkney Brewery of beer and in Ch 92 it is called Sawannay. And Scottish – which is worse. Orkney is a Viking archipelago. It only became part of Scotland when it was part of a bride’s dowry in the 1400s. The people pride themselves on their Viking ancestry.
And secondly. Skunks! really. In Scotland – absolute no, not even in Ireland either – only escaped pets and I doubt if anyone keeps them as pets…
And one final point. the word ‘feck’ is Irish not Scottish. Scots never say it.
I’m USA Today Bestselling author Delancey Stewart. My contemporary romances run the gamut of settings and setups, but they always deliver humor, heart and heat. It’s a guarantee.
I write from my home in Denver, CO, where I manage a household full of boys and men. Okay, only one man. The hubs. But two boys. I mean, three if you count the hubs. (You see why I do words and not numbers. I was told there’d be no math in this bio. Someone lied.)
I grew up in California and have had more jobs than anyone on earth (personal trainer, pharmaceutical rep, copywriter, tech writer, marketing director, wine seller, elementary school teacher… I’m not kidding. The list. It goes on.) But the one I love the most is writing, in part because I get to meet people who love books and stories as much as I do! Please don’t hesitate to get in touch to say hello, and don’t forget to join my newsletter!
Get a free story from me by joining my weekly email here: https://www.subscribepage.com/delanceystewart
Find me at www.delanceystewart.com