Checked (Gold Hockey Book 7)
Page 14
“That—” He touched her arm. “Wait. I know I know you.”
She froze. That was the second time he’d said that, and now they were getting into dangerous territory. Recognition meant . . . no. She couldn’t.
There had been a time when everyone had known her. Her face on Wheaties boxes, her smile promoting toothpaste and credit cards alike.
That wasn’t her life any longer.
“Thanks again. Bye.” She started to hurry away.
“Wait.” A hand dropped on to her shoulder, thwarting her escape, and she hissed in pain.
“Sorry,” he said, but he didn’t release her. Instead, he shifted his grip from her aching shoulder down to her elbow and when she didn’t protest, he exerted gentle pressure until Sara was facing him again. “It’s just that know I know you.”
No. This wasn’t happening.
“You’re Sara Jetty.”
Her body went tense.
Oh God. This was so happening.
“It’s me.” He touched his chest like she didn’t know he was talking about himself, and even as she was finally recognizing the color of his eyes, the familiar curve of his lips and line of his jaw, he said the worst thing ever, “Mike Stewart.”
Oh shit.
—Get your copy at books2read.com/Backhand
Boarding
Gold Hockey Book #3
Get your copy at books2read.com/Boarding
Mandy
Hockey players had the best asses.
No pancake bottoms, these men—and women—could fill out a pair of jeans. She wanted to squeeze it, to nibble it, bounce a dime—
Mandy dropped her chin to her chest, losing sight of the Sorting Hat cupcakes she’d been pondering.
Blane with his yummy ass had a unique way of distracting her.
No, it wasn’t even distraction, per se. He had always been able to get under her skin.
And that was very, very bad for her.
“Ugh,” she said, tossing her phone onto her desk and standing, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to sit still now.
Nope, she needed about forty laps in the pool and a good hard fu—
Run, her mind blurted, almost yelling at the mental voice of her inner devil. A good hard run.
Unfortunately, the cajoling tone wasn’t completely drowned out. Some sexy horizontal time with Blane would be more fun—
But the rest of the enticing words were lost as the roar of the crowd suddenly penetrated through the layers of concrete. Her stomach twisted. Mandy could tell, even before her eyes made it to the television, that it wasn’t in celebration of a goal or a good hit either.
This was fury, a collective of outrage.
She was on her feet the moment she saw the prone form lying so still face down on the ice.
Her gut twisted when she spotted the curving line of a numeral two on the back of the player’s jersey.
“Not him,” she said and the words were familiar, a sentiment she had whispered, had prayed a thousand times before. She needed the camera angle to shift, for her to be able to see more clearly who was hurt. “Not him.”
Then Dr. Carter was on the ice and the player moved slightly, rolling away from the camera, giving a full shot of his back and the matching twos adorning his jersey.
Fuck. Not him. Not Blane.
And that was when she saw the pool of blood.
—Get your copy at books2read.com/Boarding
Benched
Gold Hockey Book #4
Get your copy at books2read.com/Benched
Max
He started up the car, listening and chiming in at the right places as Brayden talked all things video game.
But his mind was unfortunately stuck on the fact that women were not to be trusted.
He snorted. Brit—the Gold’s goalie and the first female in the NHL—and Mandy—the team’s head trainer—would smack him around for that sentiment, so he silently amended it to: most women were not to be trusted.
There. Better, see?
Somehow, he didn’t think they’d see.
He parked in the school’s lot, walked Brayden in, and received the appropriate amount of scorn from the secretary for being thirty minutes late to school, then bent to hug Brayden.
“I’ll pick you up today,” he said.
Brayden smiled and hugged him tightly. Then he whispered something in his ear that hit Max harder than a two-by-four to the temple.
“If you got me a new mom, we wouldn’t be late for school.”
“Wh-what?” Max stammered.
“Please, Dad? Can you?”
And with that mind fuck of an ask, Brayden gave him one more squeeze and pushed through the door to the playground, calling, “Love you!” over his shoulder.
Then he was gone, and Max was standing in the office of his son’s school struggling to comprehend if he had actually just heard what he’d heard.
A new mom?
Fuck his life.
—Get your copy at books2read.com/Benched
Breakaway
Gold Hockey Book #5
Get your copy at books2read.com/BreakawayGold
Blue
“Thanks for the ride.”
“Try not to go out and get a fresh bimbo to ride tonight. I hear STIs on are the rise in the city.”
Blue sighed, turned back to face her. “Really?”
She shrugged, smirk teasing the edges of her mouth, drawing his focus to the lushness of her lips. “Just watching out for Max’s teammate.”
He rolled his eyes. “Not hardly.”
“Okay, how about I’m trying to prevent you from spreading STIs to the female populace.”
“I’m clean, and I’m smart,” he told her. “Condoms all the way.”
“Ew.”
Except there was something about the way she said it that made Blue stiffen and take notice. Because . . . he stared into her eyes, watched as the pale blue darkened to royal, saw her lips part, and her suck in a breath.
Holy shit.
“You’re attracted to me.”
Her jaw dropped. “No fucking way,” she said, too quickly, pink dancing on the edges of her cheekbones. “You’re delusional.”
Blue got close.
Real close.
Anna licked her lips.
And fuck it all, he kissed that luscious mouth.
—Breakaway, www.books2read.com/BreakawayGold
Breakaout
Gold Hockey Book #6
Get your copy at books2read.com/Breakout
PR-Rebecca
“You should go have your turn.”
“I’ll get mine,” he said with another shrug.
She frowned, honestly confused. “You don’t want—”
Suddenly he was in front of her on the bench, towering over her even though she was wearing her four-inch power heels. “You know what I want?”
Rebecca couldn’t speak. Her breath had whooshed out of her in the presence of all that sweaty, hockey god-ness. Fuck he was pretty and gorgeous and . . . so fucking masculine that her thighs actually clenched together.
She wanted to climb him like a stripper pole.
“Do you?” he asked again when her words wouldn’t come. “Want to know what I want?”
She nodded.
He bent, lips to her ear. “You, babe,” he whispered. “I. Want. You.”
Then he straightened and jumped back onto the ice, leaving her gaping after him like she had less than two brain cells in her skull.
The worst part?
She wanted him, too.
Had wanted him since the moment she’d laid eyes on the sexy as sin hockey god.
“Trouble,” she murmured. “I’m in so much fucking trouble.”
—Breakout, www.books2read.com/Breakout
Also by Elise Faber
Chauvinist Stories
Bitch
Cougar (April 5th, 2020)
Whore (May 3rd, 2020)
Roosevelt Ranch Series (all stand alone, series comple
te)
Disaster at Roosevelt Ranch
Heartbreak at Roosevelt Ranch
Collision at Roosevelt Ranch
Regret at Roosevelt Ranch
Desire at Roosevelt Ranch
Billionaire’s Club (all stand alone)
Bad Night Stand
Bad Breakup
Bad Husband
Bad Hookup
Bad Divorce
Bad Fiancé
Bad Boyfriend
Gold Hockey (all stand alone)
Blocked
Backhand
Boarding
Benched
Breakaway
Breakout
Checked
Coasting (June 15th, 2020)
Life Sucks Series (all stand alone)
Train Wreck
Phoenix Series (read in order)
Phoenix Rising
Dark Phoenix
Phoenix Freed
Phoenix: LexTal Chronicles (rereleasing soon, stand alone, Phoenix world)
From Ashes
KTS Series
Fire and Ice (Hurt Anthology, stand alone)
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author, Elise Faber, loves chocolate, Star Wars, Harry Potter, and hockey (the order depending on the day and how well her team -- the Sharks! -- are playing). She and her husband also play as much hockey as they can squeeze into their schedules, so much so that their typical date night is spent on the ice. Elise changes her hair color more often than some people change their socks, loves sparkly things, and is the mom to two exuberant boys. She lives in Northern California. Connect with her in her Facebook group, the Fabinators or find more information about her books at www.elisefaber.com.