7 PM PST.


From the bestselling author of the Heller Brothers Hockey series comes the first novel of a new hockey romance series featuring a college team whose players are heating things up both on and off the ice.

The Bayard College hockey team isn’t where Jacob Flass thought he’d be a season ago. He was a rising star in the Canadian major junior league, cruising toward a spot on an NHL roster—until a single disastrous night on the town brought it all crashing down. Now he’s out of options, except for playing well, studying hard, and staying away from girls. He’s not supposed to be flirting with the hottest, sweetest chick he’s ever met. But how could he possibly stay away?

Skylar Lynwood knows that Jacob is out of her league. She’s just trying to go with the flow, which isn’t easy when six feet and four inches of total hockey hunkiness is making a play for her one moment, then giving her the cold shoulder the next. Skylar’s head tells her that this rugged athlete isn’t worth her time, but her body says something altogether different. Risking her heart for Jacob may be the craziest thing she’s ever done . . . but she won’t let him shut her out.

I don’t care if he’s a hockey player. He’s cute and smart and funny and I’m enjoying talking to him. And I know it’s not going anywhere, so I can be myself without worrying if I’m making a good impression or coming across as dorky and studious. Or if it’s going to lead to something more than I can deal with.
He lifts a hand to shift some hair off my face with a gentle gesture and his gaze moves down over my hair. He likes it.
My breasts ache and my nipples tingle. Oh wow. When our eyes meet, I see the same kind of heat reflected in his.
I haven’t felt this alive in months, and only with this arousal shimmering through me do I realize exactly how . . . anesthetized I’ve felt.
“You have a very sexy mouth.” Oh my God. Did I really just say that?
“Thanks. I thought the same about you.” And he touches my face, his thumb brushing over my lower lip.
Heat spirals up through me from my core and my gaze is locked to his. My lips part and I am aching for him to kiss me. I want to know if his sexy mouth tastes and feels as good as it looks.
This is so not like me, and I don’t know what’s getting into me. Maybe it’s the heady feeling of knowing I’m with a guy every other girl at the party wants. Maybe it’s the hard lemonade. Maybe it’s relief at knowing I can actually feel this way again. My body is tingling and warm everywhere, especially between my legs and in the tips of my breasts. So I go up on my toes and touch my lips to his.
We’re still staring at each other, but his eyelids grow heavy at my soft kiss. His eyes close briefly, and his hand goes to my hip and pulls me closer. Then our eyes meet again and fire consumes me. His lips quirk in that sexy way. “You just kissed me.”
I blink. “Uh . . . yeah.”
“Okay, then.” And his eyes close as his mouth moves back to mine.
I’m helpless to resist. I’m longing for a deeper taste and I close my own eyes as our mouths meet.
Kissing is so lovely. And Jacob is an amazing kisser. His mouth is firm and warm, with just the right amount of pressure, and his tongue licks inside with confidence, not aggression. He’s bold, but tender. His hands clasp my hips and pull my lower body flush to his, and I set my hands on his shoulders.
His bones are big, his muscles thick. I feel his arousal growing against my lower belly. He’s turned on too.
I mean, it doesn’t take much for guys to get hard. But still, it’s a rush knowing that’s for me.
My usual good judgment has disappeared as I fall into the kiss with everything I have. My fingers curl into his shirt, then I slip one hand around the back of his neck. I rub my fingertips over the short hair and soft skin at the nape of his neck and he groans into my mouth.
He lifts his mouth only long enough to tilt my chin to a different angle, then claims me again in another long, lush kiss. My heart is pounding, my blood rushing hot in my veins. I press my aching breasts against his chest and another rumble rises there.
Over and over our mouths meet and cling, part, then meet again. I lick his tongue, nip at his bottom lip. His erection is getting even bigger. I want to feel it, but dimly recall that we are in a kitchen with other people around.
We’re not the only ones making out, I know that, and I heard that couple having sex in a bedroom upstairs. I want to be upstairs, in a bedroom, alone with Jacob, stretched out on a bed so we can twist ourselves together.
Thick, liquid heat converges low in my belly, forming an insistent throb behind my clit.
Finally, Jacob lifts his head and gives me a dazed, hot look. “Jesus, Rapunzel. What a mouth.”
The tip of my tongue touches my top teeth. “Is that a compliment?”
“Hell yeah.” He lifts a hand to cup my face, his thumb petting the corner of my mouth. I turn my head, open my lips and bite his thumb. His eyes darken and I suck his thumb into my mouth. It feels so good and I can tell we’re both thinking of me sucking on other parts of him.
“Holy hell, you’re sexy,” he rasps out. He grinds his hips into mine and my belly does a flip of lust.
“So are you.”
I’ve never in my life done this—I mean, I’ve had sex, but I’ve never been the one to come on to a guy like this, especially someone I just met. But I want to have sex with him. It’s crazy because I don’t even know him, but I’m so attracted to him and I’m so turned on, my panties are soaked right through to my shorts. The intense ache there is obliterating reason. And I shock myself as I whisper the words that spring to my lips. “Want to go upstairs?”
He gazes at me, his hand curled around the side of my neck, his beautiful mouth wet from our kisses, eyes heavy-lidded. His eyelashes lower to rest on his cheeks. He pulls in a harsh breath, then slowly lets it out. “I can’t.”
My body stiffens. Somehow, I never thought he would turn me down. He seemed as into the whole making out thing as I was, and his arousal is undeniable. But right, guys get turned on so easily. It’s not me. It’s just . . . a girl, pressing her boobs against him and throwing herself at him. It’s a physiological response. Seriously, I just learned about that in Human Physiology.
I swallow and step back, and he releases me. His eyes are shadowed, his jaw tight. Mortification scorches me from the inside out until I swear I’m probably glowing red like a traffic light. I am such an idiot.
“Oops,” I try to say in a light tone. “Sorry.” I hold up my hands. “I obviously misread things there.”
“Skylar . . .”
I scrunch my face into a smile. “Hey, no worries.” I lift my chin toward the wide doors leading to the dining room. “You should see if your friends need any help in their beer pong tournament.”
I whirl around and resist the urge to bolt right out of the house. Instead I saunter across the kitchen, plucking another bottle from the cooler, hoping I don’t appear rejected and pathetic to everyone else in the kitchen. I head to the living room, seeking out Ella, Natalie and Brooklyn. There they are, dancing. That’s what I need. I need to dance.
They welcome me with hip bumps and smiles, and as I move to the music I try to ignore the humiliation burning inside me.

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