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Shane grinned from behind the kiss, gathered two fistfuls of Bronson’s Brioni, and pulled him even closer before coming to his senses. He broke off the kiss and smoothed the lapel. “Sorry about the suit.”
Bronson wrapped one hand around Shane’s neck, cupped his ass with the other, and said, “Fuck the suit.”
About the Author
NYTimes and USA Today Bestselling Author Darynda Jones has won numerous awards for her work, including a prestigious RITA, a Golden Heart, and a Daphne du Maurier, and her books have been translated into 17 languages. As a born storyteller, Darynda grew up spinning tales of dashing damsels and heroes in distress for any unfortunate soul who happened by, certain they went away the better for it. She penned the international bestselling Charley Davidson series and is currently working on several beloved projects, most notably the Sunshine Vicram Mystery Series with St. Martin's Press and the Betwixt and Between Series of paranormal women's fiction. She lives in the Land of Enchantment, also known as New Mexico, with her husband and two beautiful sons, the Mighty, Mighty Jones Boys. She can be found at http://www.daryndajones.com
Dirty Dare
A SLAYERS HOCKEY NOVELLA
MIRA LYN KELLY
Chapter One
OFF-SEASON
TREVOR
“Say it with me, little brother. No more jocks.”
“No more jocks,” I groan, turning left onto Old Wildren Road. Never again. And yeah, maybe I have a type, but whatever. I’ll get over it.
The wooded country road twists and turns through another mile before splitting at the hand-painted sign for Little Lake Lane.
“Jesus, what am I doing back here?” My mom, sister, and I moved out of Wildren the summer after I graduated high school and started playing hockey for the Orators, Chicago’s farm team down in Springfield. I loved it here, but after what happened when I left?
Maybe this was a mistake.
Tammy ignores the rhetorical part of the question and huffs.
“Getting out of Dodge so you don’t have to spend the summer living in the same apartment with your cheating, asshole ex.” She takes a bite of something crunchy, probably racing to get some food in her before the baby wakes up. “Retreating to a place where your life was simpler. I mean mostly. You know, except for that.”
Right. That. Cameron Dorsey. The first jock.
First a lot of things.
“We’re not talking about that.” Ever.
She hums through the line. “You sure that isn’t part of why you chose Wildren?”
Why I always crack and end up spilling my damn feelings to my sister I have no idea.
“Positive.” It’s ancient history, and if I had to guess, that is probably going to avoid me like the plague. That is probably married to a nice woman and has a nice life working in his nice family business just like he was always supposed to.
“Yeah, fuck that.”
I grin. Okay, now I remember why. Two years older, Tammy’s always had my back. And it’s not like I’ve got anyone else to talk to about this stuff. No one else knows I’m a bi professional hockey player who, until a few months back, was in a relationship and living with a teammate for the better part of a year. A teammate whose professional jealousy and private insecurities drove him to betray me in a brutal way.
More crunching sounds through the car speaker, and then I hear the tiny squawk of my new nephew waking up from a nap. The crunching gets faster. Tammy gulps. “Anyone know you’re back?”
“Not before today.” I’d been planning to lay low. Hide out in the cabin on the lake and decompress after the roller coaster season I’ve had.
Figured when I ducked into the Sew Shoppe to pick up the keys my old athletic director left me, no one would remember the kid who only lived here a few years. But that’s not how small towns work. “Cora Michaels was working. She says hi. Also, Danny Nobbs just bought his first house. Party tonight. Found out your ex, Tino, got Crystal Miller and Nora Jacobs pregnant three weeks apart—”
“Douche!”
I laugh. “Right? And I’m invited to dinner at my old English teacher’s place next week.”
