Heated Rivalry (Game Changers, #2)

by Rachel Reid

“Don’t worry, Hollander,” Rozanov said, his lips brushing Shane’s ear, “I am going to fuck you like you want, yes?” “Yes,”

empty besides the two of them, he would have been worried about how loud he was being as Rozanov fucked him. But he felt safe here, so he let himself go. He cried out with every thrust and maybe said Rozanov’s name a bunch of times.

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.

He had definitely been blown by two different girls since July. And he had enjoyed it. With his head tilted back. And his eyes closed. And he hadn’t thought about Ilya Rozanov’s dark, wet lips or his crooked smile at all.

“Did you like sucking my dick?” “Oh, those English words you know?” Rozanov licked under Shane’s ear, and Shane gasped. “Did you like it?” Rozanov asked again. Shane swallowed his saliva and his pride. “Yes.” “Would you like me to lie on the bed and let you do it some more?” “Let me?” Rozanov chuckled against Shane’s neck. “I’m a nice guy.”

Ilya had always been this way. He loved sex, and he loved it more when it was dangerous—when it was with someone he knew he shouldn’t be with. Whether that was his coach’s son, or his brother’s girlfriend, or his teammate’s sister, Ilya couldn’t resist a bad idea.

He wrapped his foot around Rozanov’s ankle, and Rozanov growled and, without warning, grabbed Shane’s thighs and hoisted him up the wall so that Shane had no choice but to wrap his legs around the taller man’s waist.

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

When he returned his eyes to Rozanov, he was struck by how big his cock was. He’d seen it before, of course, and he knew it was a decent size, but looking at it now, with the idea that it was supposed to somehow fit inside of him... He must have been wearing his anxiety all over his face. Rozanov laughed. “It will fit.” Shane blushed furiously, which made Rozanov laugh more. “Trust me. Where is the stuff?”

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

“Is good vodka! Come on. Look at your poor dick, Hollander. Give him some attention, yes?”

“Stroke it,” Rozanov instructed. “Make yourself come for me.” Shane wrapped his fingers around himself, but instead of stroking, just slid his thumb over his slit a couple of times. “There is lube in the drawer,” Rozanov said. “Beside the bed.” “Mm. Get it for me.” There. Fuck you, Rozanov.

“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.”

“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.

“I’m fucked,” he murmured in Russian. “I am

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.

For seven years, they’d been getting away with this thing. Their luck had to run out sometime, right?

“I love you.” Shane froze. And then Ilya froze. “Holy shit,” Shane whispered. It wasn’t how he had meant to respond. “I...” Ilya’s eyes were so wide and so scared. “I love you too,” Shane said.

“I have been with lots of women. That was not...fake. But...” He looked at Shane, and Shane held his breath. “I have only been in love with one person.”

“Then I will bring you to that dock out there. I will have hundreds of candles all over it...” “That sounds like a fire hazard.” “Is on the water, Hollander. Fucking relax. Will be beautiful, you will love it. The candles. The lake. The full moon.” “Oh, is it a clear night?” “Yes. Of course. And I will get on one knee—” “Ilya—” “And I will say, ‘Shane Hollander, will you please marry me so I can become Canadian citizen faster?’” Shane burst out laughing, and shoved him. “You’re such an asshole.” “And you will say yes, because you are a nice, helpful guy.” “No,” Shane said, taking his hands. “I will say yes because I will still be madly in love with you. And I’ll want to spend the rest of my life with you.”