The Long Game (Game Changers, #6)

by Rachel Reid

“Sweetheart,” Ilya said gently.

“Eat what you want. If that is only healthy things, is fine. If you want treats, is also fine. It is your life, Hollander. Not the NHL’s. Not the Montreal Voyageurs’.” “You sure about that?” “I think we are both going to have to decide about that soon.”

“Are your parents still here?” Ilya asked as soon as he’d finished kissing Shane hello. “No, I told them they could go home. I loved having them here, but I, um...” “Want to be railed by your boyfriend?” Shane’s eyes darkened. “Fuck yes.”

“Make me forget everything,” Shane murmured. “Just want to feel you.”

“I thought you need a reminder, before our meeting tomorrow.” “Reminder of what?” Shane said faintly as he tipped his head to the side and closed his eyes. Ilya kissed just under his jaw, then in front of his ear. “Of who the fuck you are.”

Good lord that’s hot

Shane was destroying him with his obedience. “Fucking finally,” Shane snarled. “Did you go to the store or something?”

“Which is your favorite?” Ilya asked conversationally as he continued to rub the head of Shane’s cock. “Of all of these trophies?” “Rookie of the Year,” Shane said quickly, and smugly. Ilya huffed. “Fucker.”

“Do you want to know a secret?” He bent over Shane so he could speak directly in his ear. “I feel like I am fucking a king right now.”

🥵

“Do you know how powerful this feels, fucking a king in his throne room?”

🥵🥵

“You are Shane fucking Hollander,” Ilya growled. “If you ever forget that, I will drag you back in here and fuck you until you remember.” “We—we’ll share a trophy room someday,” Shane stammered. Ilya smiled. “Yes. A fucking empire.” Shane tilted his head back against Ilya’s shoulder. “A dynasty,” he breathed. “Oh, fuck, Ilya. I love you.”

🥵🥵🥵

“Fuck this. Here’s a plan: we do whatever we want this summer and then we come back and have all-star seasons again next year. We’re not a couple of naïve rookies you can intimidate. You think we don’t know what we’re worth to this league?”

“I choose him. Come on, Ilya.”

Shane grinned up at him, all flushed skin and freckles and bright eyes. Ilya wanted to, like, crawl inside him somehow.

“Ilya fucking Rozanov.” J.J. shook his head. “Jesus, Shane. Why?” “Because...” Shane didn’t even know where to start. Finally he just said, “He makes me happy. I know it doesn’t make sense, but he’s it for me. We’re getting married.” J.J.’s head whipped around to face him, eyes wide. “Married?” “Uh, yeah,” Shane said nervously. “So, y’know. Watch for an invitation.” “Fuck, Hollander. This is a lot.”

“No one who’s never heard of Cardi B is normal.”

“Figures.” Ilya raised his eyebrows at him and waited. Bood smiled. “You stealing the fucking spotlight. Barrett comes out, announces his relationship with Harris, and then Roz says ‘hold my beer.’” “Yeah, Ilya,” Troy said with a grin. “What the fuck?”

During a break in play, Ilya checked in with his goalie. “You good, Hazy?” he called out over the screeching vocals of AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck.” “Yep,” Hazy said cheerfully. “Hey, do you like this song?” Ilya’s brow furrowed. Was this seriously what Wyatt was thinking about right now? “Is okay.” “I always thought it had all this buildup and then falls kind of flat, but I dunno. Anyway, score a goal, okay?”

Goalies, man 😂

As they bent for the face-off at the beginning of the third, Ilya noticed a glint of gold, on Shane’s neck. “You have a chain now?” Ilya asked quietly. “Yeah,” Shane said. “And a ring.” Ilya smiled, and totally lost the face-off.

Ilya stared at the photo of Shane’s ring, nestled between his muscular, shower-damp pecs, for nearly the entire bus ride from the arena to the hotel. Shane had sent it from the locker room, presumably, which was bold and also super hot.

“Hey,” Shane said. He was shirtless, the ring on full display. His hair was tied back and he was wearing his glasses, a lethal combination.

And god, it felt good to finally be able to let people know that Shane Hollander was his.

but still. Ilya was proud of himself for landing such an impressive boyfriend.

“I am too soft with her.” Shane rested a hand on Ilya’s cheek. “You’re soft with everyone you love.” Ilya’s lips curved up. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“What do you need right now?” “Sleep,” Ilya answered honestly. “In the morning, probably coffee.” He grinned impishly. “And maybe five or six blowjobs.” Shane smiled so wide his eyes crinkled. “Blowjobs aren’t a cure for depression, Ilya.” “Are you a doctor now?” Shane laughed and kissed him again. “Go to sleep, idiot.”

“Shane,” Ilya said seriously. “Do we have to drive back to your trophy room in Montreal?” Shane blushed. “No.” “Or maybe you watch a YouTube video of your best goals while I blow you?” Heat flooded Shane’s stomach. “I mean. It wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“Can I take you to bed now, then? And you wear only that jersey?” Shane leaned in and kissed him. “Is this a hazing thing?” “Yes. I do it to everyone.” “Shut up.” “Troy was incredible.” Shane shoved him with both hands. “You’re the worst. Come ravage me.” Ilya grinned and chased him up the stairs.

“What I’m trying to say, and Yuna’s always been the better speaker, is I’ve always felt so lucky to have a son as wonderful as Shane that I never expected to be blessed with a second one.”

🥹😭

“With this ring, I shall love, honor, and cherish you. And this ring is the symbol of my love,” Shane said. “Gross,” Ilya muttered, which made Shane snort and start laughing. Which made everybody else laugh.

“And I get why Shane left Montreal. But I’m going to miss having him around.” “You should sign with Ottawa. Your contract is probably cheap, yes?” Hayden shook his head. “You’re a hard guy to like, Rozanov.”

Ilya laughed. “I love you so much it sucks.”