Matt Perriseau, rising star forward of the Flat Top Rattlers, has it all going for him. His pro hockey career is taking off, but sometimes he can’t stop thinking about what he left behind.
Now he has no choice but to face the past when he’s up against his old lover’s team!
On the ice with Jakob Wikstrom in goal for the opposition, Matt finds himself distracted by memories of their secret romance. The tall Nordic god of a goaltender used to set Matt on fire, and the second they lock eyes across the rink, Matt knows that fire hasn’t gone out.
Ice Hockey Heat is a steamy tale of jock erotica that details what happens when old lovers reunite and can’t keep their hands off each other!
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Matt Perriseau hiked in a deep, chilly lungful of frigid arena air. The Star Spangled Banner rang in his ears, sung by a young woman in sequins who belted it out in typically overwrought fashion. He stood on the ice, side by side with his teammates, and dutifully bowed his head.
When he flicked his dark brown gaze up and across the ice, it wasn’t out of irreverence or impatience. He was only looking toward the home team’s bench on the chance that someone else might be looking back.
That chilly breath absolutely froze in his chest when he realised the answer to that question was yes. Across the hawk-emblazoned ice, a tall, pale figure was staring back at him, from behind the mesh of a frightening, maw-faced mask.
Jakob Wikstrom, goaltender of the Spokane Sparrowhawks.
Matt couldn’t think of what else to do, so he averted his eyes and stared down at his skates. This was going to be a hard game for more than one reason.
After they demolished their sandwiches, they put on the news as background noise and sprawled side by side on Matt’s bed, backs against the headboard.
“God,” he gushed, biting a french fry and looking at Jake sideways, “they’re really not kidding about you. The scouting reports, the bloggers. You really are that good.”
Jake deflected the praise in typical Wikstrom fashion and snorted quietly, shaking his head.
“It’s a team sport,” was all he had to say on the matter. Then: “And you weren’t too bad out there, yourself. That first goal was half you.”
That faint, flushed warmth returned to Matt’s body at that. He couldn’t help but grin slyly.
“So you were watching me.”
“Kind of couldn’t help it.”
Their voices had dropped to a fraction of their original volume, and both men sat in near silence, gazing at one another. The very edges of Wikstrom’s clear blue eyes turned up, a secretive smile withheld.
“Because you’re an attention-seeking grandstander,” he said with a straight face.
Matt gave him a shove with both hands. “And you’re an asshole.”
He kept his hands on Jake’s body long after shoving him, one on his shoulder and one braced against his chest. Through the wool of the sweater, he could feel the new solidness there, and his fingertips dug in subconsciously. Now that they were closer, he could appreciate more details: the high lines of Jake’s cheekbones, the mischievous upturn to the corners of his eyes that only went away after a hard loss. He was gorgeous.
Gin LaSalle has always loved sports and steamy romance, so she figured why not combine them? This is Gin’s first release and she is hard at work on the upcoming Heated Rivalry, which can be previewed at the back of Ice Hockey Heat.
When she isn’t writing, Gin can be found skating down at the local ice rink or wandering the mountains with her camera. The only thing she loves more than well-crafted erotica is filthy, sassy sex humour. Out and proud for the last thirteen years, Gin is also an active supporter of LGBTQ equality.