Playing for Keeps (Hot Jocks, #1)

by Kendall Ryan

Normally—I see something I want—and I go and get it. It’s how I’ve always been. It’s how I’m wired. The one exception to that rule? Elise Parrish.

My heart starts to beat faster as she grins up at me. Well damn, I didn’t know I still had one of those.

Justin hasn’t hooked up with anyone yet, and I’m just waiting for it to happen. He’s been all strangely sad and mopey tonight and I’m not sure what the hell is going on with him.

I’ve never felt anything remotely familial about Justin Brady like I should.

which reacts to his in a very non-sisterly way. So much so, my lady parts are tingling and I’m pretty sure there’s a tiny damp spot in my panties from when he smiled and pushed my hair behind my shoulder as he watched me drain my shot glass for the umpteenth time and suck on the lemon slice afterwards.

I’ve always been enamored with him, from his quiet confidence, to his dedication and hard work on the ice, to his hard won smiles and casual attitude.

“Tell me what you need,” I whisper, placing my hands on his waist. He feels so solid beneath my palms. “You,” he croaks out, voice raw. “On the bed.”

His kiss is so soft at first, then his fingers thread into the hair at the back of my neck as he turns my face toward his and deepens our connection.

“Today, tears,” she says, patting my back. “Tomorrow, we plot his murder and take over the world.”

Not a dirtbag like me who got some girl in another state pregnant. I fuck up everything I touch, and I won’t do that to her.

I knew exactly what I was doing. And besides, I’d been more drunk on her, on the pheromones, on the idea of being inside her than I had been on the alcohol I’d consumed.

they’re like mini crazy drunk people, but I adore them all the same.

Huge gray eyes look up at mine, and fuck, I’m done. I’m done resisting this girl, with her sweet personality and her quick wit. I’m all wrong for her, but she’s gorgeous and I want this. So fucking badly. Or maybe I just want redemption. Either way, I can’t go on like this.

“I remember, okay? All of it. Every whimper, every moan, every pant. How perfectly we moved together. How you taste, how your body felt around mine, how soft you felt beneath me. Shit, I remember every-fucking-thing. And I can’t seem to get

you out of my head.” His

Almost as fast as I dared come in here and kiss her, I leave, my heart beating fast and my cock swelling against my thigh.

Fifteen minutes into our visit my mom whipped out the baby albums, including the ones where I was naked in the bathtub as a toddler. Fan-fucking-tastic. Nothing undermines your masculinity like your girlfriend laughing at your childhood sized penis.

They grew up together but she missed the first few years since she is younger than them.

I’m not sure if you’re aware—but he went through a bit of a slutty stage.”

a bit??