Heated Rivalry (Game Changers, #2)

by Rachel Reid

And Shane Hollander was a bad fucking idea. The worst idea. Wrong in every way imaginable. Two men. Two NHL players, poised to be the two biggest stars in the league soon enough. Two bitter rivals on opposing teams that had hated each other for almost a hundred years. Plus, Ilya hated this guy. He hated his pretty boy face and his perfect goddamned English and his perfect goddamned French and his loving parents and his polite little manners and his million-dollar smile. He hated how serious he was. How earnest. He was everything the league wanted from their stars. Ilya kissed his dumb mouth and swallowed his stupid little sighs and felt his annoying fingers in his hair. He pulled back so he could look at his horrible face with its ridiculous freckles. Fuck.

“Have you ever touched yourself,” Ilya asked, circling his finger again, “here?” Hollander’s face flushed bright red, and Ilya grinned. “Jesus Christ,” Hollander muttered. “You are embarrassed.” “Well!” “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.” Hollander sat up. “I’ve played with it, all right? I’ve—I’ve got a...thing.” “A thing?” “A dildo! Okay?” Ilya grinned so hard it hurt. “What color?” “Fuck you!” “Is it big?” “I’m leaving.”

“I want to fuck you, Hollander,” Ilya said against his ear.

“Give me your phone.” “My phone?” Hollander asked weakly. “Yes.” Hollander fumbled the phone out of his pocket and handed it to Ilya. Ilya took it and entered his number into Hollander’s contacts, under the name Lily. Hollander snorted when he saw it. “Who should I be?” he asked as he picked up Ilya’s phone from the dresser. “Shannon?” “Jane,” Ilya said. “Jesus Christ,” Hollander muttered as he typed. “No. Just Jane.”