Heated Rivalry (Game Changers, #2)

by Rachel Reid

Maybe they should have stopped by now. But, despite the wrongness of it, this was comfortable. This was familiar. And it was as close to safe as either of them were going to get.

“You are very beautiful,” Rozanov said suddenly. It was said very matter-of-factly.

He obviously wasn’t one hundred percent straight, but having sex with women didn’t repulse him. It just didn’t do it for him like men did. One man in particular.

He knew making plans to end this was pointless. As long as this was being offered, Shane would never be able to say no.

It wasn’t supposed to have gone like this. He was supposed to have led his country to gold in his country. It was what the nation had expected. Canada’s hopes had been heaped onto his seventeen-year-old shoulders and he had let them all down.

Rozanov was so...masculine.

He didn’t know if Rozanov felt anything. But in that moment, Shane wanted...something. He couldn’t even name it.

For the rest of his life, Shane Hollander would have to live with the fact that he had ended his NHL draft day by getting himself off to thoughts of Ilya Rozanov.

Rozanov did not look pretty. He looked stunning. Once again, Shane was astounded and irritated by how manly Rozanov was.

He was so busy being mortified that he didn’t immediately notice that Rozanov’s own dick was starting to swell.

It tasted like...skin.

“Have you been...thinking about this?” Rozanov gave a crooked grin and shrugged. “I like trouble.” Shane laughed. “Well, I think we’ve found it.”

He expected Rozanov to get the hell out of the way, but instead he sucked him harder and Shane emptied himself into his mouth.

Ilya told himself the twisted feeling in his stomach was just jealousy, but he was terrified that it was something much, much worse.

“You don’t play with your ass? It makes you gay?” “Oh my fucking god...” “You know what makes you gayer?” “Rozanov...shut the fuck—” “Sucking my dick. You were doing that a minute ago.”

so instead he threw his head back against the wall like the eager slut he apparently was.

He was maybe happier than he should be that his most successful sexual experience to date was with Ilya Rozanov.

Shane kissed him back, just as angrily. Because fuck this guy for doing shit like this.

Next season. Next season would be different. He was going to end this stupid thing between them and focus on his game.

“So she wants to meet up after the game tomorrow night. She’s hot for hockey players, and she said she could bring her friend. You want in?” Oh, no thanks. I will be busy fucking Shane Hollander in a hotel room.

“I remember when you used to be fun, Roz.” “I am fucking fun.” Gonna have a solid hour of fun before I’m back in time for curfew.

“Did you buy a building so we would have somewhere to fuck, Hollander?”

But Ilya didn’t let Hollander finish his sentence. He gripped Hollander’s arms and pushed him back against the closest wall and kissed him. Hollander had bought them a fucking building.

“You aren’t supposed to be smoking.” “You aren’t supposed to be talking.”

“Touch yourself.” “What?” “Show off for me. Let me watch you.” “You—what?” “Is my special night, Hollander. I want to watch you.”

He wanted Rozanov’s cock in every part of him at once. He wanted to come right away or not for hours. He wanted to kiss Rozanov and maybe also punch him for being such an arrogant fucking prick.

He realized, when he was back in his room, that they hadn’t even kissed. He also realized, with horror, that he regretted that.

“Those assholes,” Hayden grumbled. “They’re fans, Hayden.” “They didn’t even recognize me!” Shane laughed and slapped him on the back. “I’ll take a selfie with you, if you want.”

but it was getting harder for Ilya to deny that there was something in his core that was drawn to Hollander. Instead of getting him out of his system with their hookups, each one just made him want more. It was dangerous fucking stuff.

“Yes, sweetheart,” Rozanov panted, and Shane didn’t even have a chance to be shocked by the pet name

Rozanov lowered himself until his nose was inches from Shane’s face. “Stay.” Shane couldn’t stay. There were probably a million reasons why he couldn’t stay. “Okay,” he said.

Whatever they were to each other, they weren’t boyfriends.

No one makes me feel like Ilya Rozanov does.

Shane understood what was supposed to be happening here. He was supposed to be...escalating things. Touching her, teasing her. Making her want him. And then they would kiss and press closer together and... So why wasn’t he?

Had Shane just been...watching him?

Was it just that Ilya liked his sex with a generous helping of danger, and Shane provided both? Or was he just being childish about having to share his favorite toy with a gorgeous movie star?

“Yeah,” Shane said softly. “Yeah. It was better.” He cleared his throat. “The thing is... I kind of prefer to be the hole. Than the peg.”

The truth—the truth that he tried so very hard to ignore—was that no one set him on fire like Shane Hollander.

“I do. I... I maybe like you too much.” Ilya’s heart clenched. “Don’t,” he groaned. “Don’t fucking do this, Hollander. I’m not...” “Worth it?”

“You don’t believe in God, but you believe if you put right skate on before left you will play a terrible game.” Shane shook his head and smiled. “That’s different. That’s science.”

“and on top of everything, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do about it.”

But as soon as he let himself acknowledge it, and now say it, he felt relieved. Not because he could do anything about these feelings, but at least he had allowed himself to accept them. And he had, in the most cowardly way possible, said them aloud to Shane.

“I am not alone,” Ilya said. “You are here now, yes?” Shane’s hand flew to his chest to make sure his heart was still beating; he could have sworn it had just melted into a gooey puddle.

“You don’t love her, then?” “No,” Ilya said quietly. He sounded like he was falling asleep. “Not her. No.”

Shane huffed out a surprised laugh. “You were such a dick to me.” “Mm. I did not like you. Just your freckles.”

“No. I mean, sort of. But...” “Did he hurt you?” “No. He just wasn’t...” Ilya needed to hear it. “Wasn’t what?” Shane clenched his eyes shut and said, “You. He wasn’t you.”

“I’m fucked,” he murmured in Russian. “I am so fucking in love and it’s horrible.”

Shane kissed the tips of two fingers and reached out and touched them to the screen. And Ilya’s heart fucking stopped.

Ilya couldn’t believe what he had been reduced to. He was...infatuated. It was disgusting.

“Mine.” Ilya’s breath tickled Shane’s skin when he spoke the single word. “Yours,” Shane said dreamily. “All of this. For two weeks. Is mine.” Forever, Shane wanted to say. Forever if you ask.