4 Flame Gay Erotic Hockey Romance
Blurb: Victor Kalinski, all-star forward for the Boston Barracudas, is
one of the biggest jerks in professional hockey. Before long his aggressive
attitude gets him shipped off to play in the minor leagues.
Furious, he takes
to the ice with equal amounts of skill and scathing sarcasm, which doesn’t win
him any friends—except for good-natured alternate captain Daniel Arou. He won’t
take any of Vic’s crap, and he won’t take no for an answer.
But Vic’s
troublemaking is pulling his career one way while Dan’s talent is pushing his
in the other. However much they scorch the sheets, they might soon be separated
by more than Vic’s fear of being hurt.
Inside Scoop:
This book contains scorching gay sex and a heaping helping of
no-holds-barred snark between hot hockey heroes who don’t pull their punches.
A
Romantica® gay erotic romance from
Ellora’s Cave
R
(Explicit Language, Gay Sexual Sitautions):
I was
soaping up my head when I heard the bathroom door squeak. I froze, hands on my
head, shampoo foam sneaking down my temples.
“Hey, Kalinski? I’m sorry if I touched a sore
spot, okay?”
There I stood, like a carving of the Roman shampoo god
Dandrufficus, silent and stony. I was aching for something but didn’t know
what.
No. That’s a
miserable-ass lie. I ached to see Arou pull back the thin shower curtain, step
over the side of the tub and kiss me into forgetting my tenth birthday…and my
eleventh…and my fourteenth as well. I cleared my throat.
“Yeah,
whatever,” I said loudly enough to be heard over the rushing water. The plastic
curtain rustled when he closed the door. My fingers slipped from my head to
hang by my thighs. Eyes closed, I stepped forward. The stream beat down on my
head, filling my ears with water and bubbles. I could still hear Dan just on
the other side of the shower curtain. My shoulder muscles tensed.
“I tend to
let my mouth run away with me sometimes, you know?”
“Yeah, I
know how that goes."
Taking a
step back, I glanced at the dark form outside the curtain. He must be lounging
on the small sink. There wasn’t room for two men in here, especially me and
Daniel Arou. I turned to let the water beat the tension from my upper back.
“I didn’t
mean any harm,” Dan said. I placed my hands on the tiles, not even seeing the
mildew on the grout. Why the fuck was this man apologizing? “I’m sorry if your
childhood was rough.”
Yep, that
was the clincher. I threw the curtain to the right so hard the old, brittle
plastic tore off several of the rusty metallic shower rings. Dan lifted his
head quickly from his study of his feet.
“You don’t
know shit about me or my childhood. For your information, asscrack, what I said
was a joke!” I snarled, pointing a finger at him.
He stared at
me. Water was dripping from my finger to the floor. His eyes betrayed him. I
saw the long, hungry look. My accusatory digit fluttered downward. My cock
began to rise to take my pointy-finger’s place. Dan grew slightly pale, mumbled
something, then tripped over his large feet out the bathroom door.
I exited the
shower. Just stepped out. Left the water running, wetting the floor, and
followed the stupid shit. Dan was facing the front door, his back as stiff as
my prick.
“I was not
checking you out,” he said through clenched teeth.
I stood
about a foot behind him, my dick at attention.
“Yeah, you
were,” I said. A horn blew outside in the parking lot. A round of male guffaws
followed. My wet skin was starting to get chilly. The heater in the room was
locked at fifty-five. “I told you I’m not gay.”
“Neither am
I,” he said rapidly. Too rapidly.
Yeah, I knew
how this was going to go. I had been hiding my bisexuality since I was old
enough to like looking at other guys’ packages in the high school locker room.
While things were changing for LGBT players, a ton of us were still pretending.
“That’s too bad,” I said, taking a step closer to him.
The floor creaked. He sucked in a short breath. His gasp made me smile. “Seems
a gay dude and a bi guy in the same room could be honest with each other at the
very least.”
That
announcement brought the sexy little shit around in a hurry. One dark eyebrow
was climbing up his forehead. Those startlingly blue eyes dropped downward. He
licked his bottom lip. My cock began to weep.
“You’re bi?”
“Yeah, and
right now I would like nothing better than to jack you up against that dresser
and kiss you into a state of delirium.”
Dan wet his
lips again. Either he was trying to turn me on, which was a wasted effort given
how hard my dick was for the man, or it was a nervous tic. Whatever, it was
making me crazy. I rolled my hands into fists to keep them from reaching for
him.
“Look,
stubby, I need a reply here,” I groaned a minute later. Maybe I had misread his
signals. Fuck knows I do it often enough with chicks. Guys are usually less
confusing, but not always. “If you’re not up for getting laid, speak up now and
I’ll go back into the shower, take care of this boner, then pretend this little
conversation never took place.”
Another horn
blew in the parking lot. Raucous laughter erupted outside our window. The
Cougars were bored. Dan reached behind his back to lock the door. Well.
Fuck. Me. I suddenly felt lightheaded.
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Links:
Author
Bio:
V.L. Locey
loves worn jeans, belly laughs, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek
mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in
that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two
cats, a flock of assorted goofy domestic fowl, and two steers.
When not
writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the
rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be
found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and GoodReads.
I love to
meet new friends and fans! You can find me at-
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Thanks for having me back, Hurri!
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