Résultats de "Mandi Beck" dans Toutes les catégories

As the lead singer of one of the hottest bands to hit the rock scene, f--ks are free, drugs come easy, and music is life. For as long as Stone can remember, Willow has been his music - the notes that weave his soul together. His rhythm. >Until he threw her away.

Inside the Octagon, I have no fear. I'm at home, in my element, inflicting pain onto men trained to hurt me just as badly. Making them submit, knocking them out, maiming them, because it's them or me. And I choose them.

Country’s hottest bad boy. That’s what they call me. My label ate it up until I became “too bad” for the good folks of country music. That’s when Hard Candy Records picked me up and took a chance on me. Probably not their smartest move, but I won’t tell them that. Especially when they’ve assigned me a babysitter to try and keep my ass out of trouble. One smart-mouthed, unimpressed, sexy-as-homegrown-sin Addy Mae Masterson.

I'm about to take on two of the most important fights of my life. My girl and the belt. I know that I can handle it, that I'll never stop fighting. But what do you do when your life, your love is threatened and you can't take the hits - she has to? You shut your eyes and f--king pray like hell that she's strong enough, fierce enough to come out on top.

Maeve Sexton is off-limits. But her last name is the least of my problems. Not only is she my best friend's little sister, but her brother is also my teammate and roommate. She's the trifecta of off-limits. Technically.

Fulton University's newest pitcher—hates me. I shouldn't like that fact, but I do. Maybe too much. She claims I'm not her type, which is ridiculous. There's a reason they call me Levi "Sexy" Sexton . . . I'm everyone's type. And thanks to my dad, who just happens to be her softball coach, I'll get my chance to thaw out the ice queen. I'm her new tutor, so she has no choice but to spend time with me. It may be Sweater Weather, but I'll make time to show her what a god I am. On and off the ice.

They say age doesn't matter. I could argue that it does. The ten years separating Stella Cruz and I matter a whole hell of a lot. She has a year of college left—two entire semesters to enjoy being the star pitcher of Fulton University—and I have another Cup to win. Hockey leaves no room for anything else, not even someone as incredible as Stella. So, I left her in my bed. Out of sight, out of . . . sight. Because I damn sure can't get her out of my mind.