I made a deal with my brother a long time ago to never date his teammates. Technically, Rowan Landry, the hot as hell center for the Chicago Falcons, is no longer my brother’s teammate. Or his best friend. Their college days are long behind them, and they barely talk now. Also, I’m not dating him—we’re just sleeping together. There’s a difference.

On and off the field he’s at the top of his game. Roan respects hard work, dedication, and follow through. He’s not a one-and-done kind of man, and he’s far from being done with Allie Harris. One sexy night and two years later, Allie’s job brings her back to town. An opportunity for the perfect replay Roan has been fantasizing about since they slept together.

A forbidden romance with my brother’s hockey teammate wasn’t on my to-do list when I moved across the country… Neither was getting locked out of a friend’s place wearing next to nothing. Or spending the night with the sexy stranger who rescues me. But I’m trying to get out of my comfort zone so getting out of the rest of my clothes with him seems like a good way to start. In the morning, I learn the filthy-mouthed man with the talented hands is not only the hotshot new hockey player on my brother’s team: he’s also–wait for it–my brand new roommate.

Seven years ago, Hadleigh Castille fell into my bed and never left my heart. Then she disappeared and my hunger for vengeance was born. My body wasn’t the same after that night. She left for war, but I lived a daily life of blood and violence for the Irish Mob. Now, I’ve risen to power in my own right, but to keep my crown I must align with the enemy. When he presents his sister to me as a bride, my heart takes a tumble. The woman I knew, the siren I never got over isn’t Hadleigh Castille, Navy Lieutenant. She’s the missing Greek Princess, Ava Zervas.

I’m a curvy sports geek. Liam’s a hockey god. He’s way out of my league… My brother’s best friend is acting really weird. Flowers keep showing up. He sends me Cameos and concert tickets. Then, there’s the job offer… Well, first, there was the fact that he tracked me down to NYC. It’s really complicated, okay? But so are my feelings for him. I’ve been ignoring them for so long that they became a wall I’m comfortable hiding behind.

I’ve always been a wild card–the first to start a fight on the ice, and the life of the party off it–but appearances can be deceiving. Being traded to the Boston Rebels could not have come at a better time. With serious family obligations to fulfill and a contract renewal with a new hockey team on the line, I have no time for anything else. I return to Boston knowing I need to buckle down and focus on what really matters.

Our first kiss was a lie. Our second was a mistake. And the night we spent tangled up in each other? Hot as hell, but a complete disaster.

I had my whole life planned out... until I met a hockey player obsessed with breaking all of my rules. My five simple rules for hooking up keep me from being distracted. Now that I'm so close to landing my dream internship, nothing is going to make me break them. Not even a protective hockey player with clear grey eyes, a sharp jaw, and a body that makes my breath catch. Until Jax wins a bet and one kiss has me breaking them all.

Bianca Chopra. Gorgeous. Forbidden. My past obsession. When she propositions me for a sham marriage, I say no with a warning to stay away. Like a dirty vixen, she raises the stake, reawakening the forbidden feelings, and I find myself throwing caution to the wind. She thinks she'll walk away unscathed but doesn't realize she made a deal with a monster with a secret that will wreck her entire world.

Nate Stiles is the definition of serious. Furrowed brow? Check. Rain cloud personality? Double check. I shouldn’t be thinking about the fact that our kiss was the best one of my life right now. I should be planning the bachelorette party of the millennium. I shouldn’t be wondering when Nate became such a good dancer after we got roped into salsa lessons with the happy couple. I should be mentally ticking off boxes on my bridal checklists. I shouldn’t be wondering what it would be like if I didn’t hate Nate Stiles. I should be holding strong against a man who doesn’t believe in love.

I’ve got a list of people I absolutely don’t ever want to be stuck with on a boat, or a plane, or a train, and it starts and ends with the broody, grumpy, too-sexy-for-my-own good Axel Huxley. Also known as this romance novelist’s number one nemesis. The man is legendary for his mighty pen and his even mightier scowl. I tried to work together with the cocky thriller writer once upon a time, but the two of us are like vodka and good decisions. We don’t play well together.

Knox Holland is in a jam. After an incredible first year on the pro motocross circuit, he should be on top of the world. Instead, his bad reputation has landed him without a team. He's untouchable and desperate to turn it around. Which is how he ends up at my gym asking me to train him. As a college gymnast with two Olympic medals to my name, I know a thing or two about the pressure to succeed. Last season I choked and then injured myself before I could show the world that I'm not a twenty-year-old has-been.

The scowl should’ve been my first clue to stay far away from Anson Hunt. The sexy smirk and the fact that he’s my brother’s best friend? Reasons two and three. Not to mention, he’s the new contractor working on my house. He’s everything I’m not: grumpy, rude, and more than a little attached to his solitude. It doesn’t matter how many times I try to kill him with kindness; the man simply won’t crack. Until he sees me shatter. Because when my world comes crashing down around me, Anson is the one catching me as I fall.

He’s a hockey player, she’s an intern. Well really, she’s the league’s commissioner’s daughter. But the way she looks at him is probably illegal in several states.

Carter Beckett is the NHL’s resident bad boy, top player both on the ice and in the bedroom, and quite possibly the sexiest man to ever grace my field of vision. But worst of all? He knows it. He’s arrogant, self-centered, and the man doesn’t seem to know what a filter is, let alone how to use one. He’s had everything served to him on a silver platter, including endless strings of women, and apparently, I’m up next. I have the solution to all my sexual frustrations in a drawer at home, and it’s far less complicated than Carter Beckett.