Being a lifelong Chicago Thunder fan, I know that Blaine Olsen is trouble. Because all hockey players are. He's a notorious playboy, and I refuse to be another notch on his bedpost. But when he shows me the part of himself he keeps hidden, it gets harder to resist him.

New York Admirals captain Scott Hunter takes his pregame rituals very seriously. In this case, it's not just a lucky smoothie he's craving - it's the man who made it. Pro hockey star Scott Hunter knows a good thing when he sees it. So, when a smoothie made by juice bar barista Kip Grady precedes Scott breaking his on-ice slump, he's desperate to recreate the magic...and to get to know the sexy, funny guy behind the counter.

I always thought of Silas Rush as my biggest rival on the track and a stuck-up loner off of it. He and his fancy pro career left our crappy hometown in the dust before high school even finished, and then I didn't think of him much at all. I was too busy trying to keep my little sisters from turning into addicts like our mom, and myself from turning into a rage-junkie like our dad. All while keeping food on the table. Now he's back, reminding me of all the things I don't have, just like he always did.

Raphael Scott is going to break my heart. He’s an American rockstar, engaged to be married, and straight. He’ll get tired of whatever this is soon enough. Then he’ll go back to his beautiful actress girlfriend and I’ll be alone again. I’m fine with that. But it doesn’t mean I won’t take what he’s offering me right now. His shining American smile, his beautiful open heart, the desperate kisses he presses into my skin.

I'm your typical small-town loser stuck in a dead-end job. Single, because dating is for well-adjusted human beings, not traumatized gay boys with trust issues. All I want is to leave my past behind and finally start living. My wish comes true in the most bizarre way imaginable. One evening, a beautiful man with pointy ears and flowing dark locks appears out of nowhere. He proclaims I am to be his 'Dark Companion' based on some stupid deal I made in a dream. Oh, and apparently he's an elven prince, the Lord of Shadows, Protector of the Nightmare Realm, and Knight of Grief Ocean.

I have to stop replaying the one night I spent with my rival. Trouble is, that white-hot encounter with the other quarterback answered a lot of questions I’ve had about myself, but it also led me into this mess where he hates me. I never showed up for our second date. Since, well, life happened, and the worst part is he’ll never know how much that night meant to me.

Twenty-eight-year-old Oryn Patterson isn't like other people. Being an extremely shy social introvert is only part of the problem. Oryn has dissociative identity disorder. He may look like a normal man on the outside, but spend five minutes with him, and his daily struggles begin to show.

What’s a straight guy to do when he accidentally goes on a date with his brand new gym-bro? Offer to be the best wingman ever, of course! It’s foolproof. Joey needs a man? I’ll find him one. He wants someone who looks, well, kind of like me? No problem! Not into watersports? I’ve got him covered. The issue is, going on all these dates with Joey makes me realize I want more of his time to be spent with me. I like the guy. And his smile. And the way he makes me feel like anything is possible.

Of all the people who could have seen me when I was at my most vulnerable, it had to be him. Caleb. My stepbrother and the golden child of our messed up blended family. We barely know each other, but for some reason, he takes care of me when an incident at the club leaves me helpless and alone. He hates me as much as I hate him, but something about his bossy attitude and unflappable calm soothes me. I don't want to want him, but no one has ever made me feel the way he does.

Best-selling authors Sarina Bowen & Elle Kennedy return with their first Male/Male romance in 3 years. LobsterShorts, 21. Jock. Secretly a science geek. Hot AF. SinnerThree, 21. Finance major. Secretly a male dancer. Hot AF. LobsterShorts: So. Here goes. For her birthday, my girlfriend wants…a threesome. SinnerThree: Then you’ve come to the right hookup app. LobsterShorts: Have you done this sort of thing before? With another guy? SinnerThree: All the time. I’m an equal opportunity player. You? LobsterShorts: [crickets!]

If I had to choose one word to describe my new cocky costar, it’d be exasperating. Nikolas Adamos may look like a Greek god—and he certainly struts around like he knows it—but unlike everyone else, I refuse to fall prey to his charms. Unfortunately for me, Niko and I get paired to do a series of lovey-dovey boyfriend videos for our employers at Elite 8 Studios. And when you film the sort of scenes we do, up close and personal takes on a whole new meaning.

I've loved him as long as I can remember. The gangly boy with big brown eyes and unruly hair who grew up into an intoxicating man. He wears scruff like he invented it and ambles with a swagger that makes panties drop. Killian Shepard. Shep. We grew up together. We played Ghost in the Graveyard. Had our own rock band. It didn't matter that he was five years older than me. It didn't matter that he looked at me as a kid sister even as I grew into woman.

Charles Preston Carmichael is the most infuriating man I've ever met. I want to sock the golden boy of college hockey right in the mouth. He enjoys telling me everything I'm messing up—publicly. And since he's my roommate for the next year, I can't avoid him. Yet there's something about him that makes me watch him. Something dark. A secret I want to uncover. When he returns from a weekend away, broken and haunted, I can't keep my distance anymore. He needs someone, and I'll be damned if it's not me.

Being invited to my cousin’s wedding really shouldn’t be a big deal except, oh yeah, I haven't seen my family for a decade. My parents turned their backs on me, and I’ve done everything since to become successful and show them what they've lost. Only it’s kinda hard to be a success when you’re a walking trainwreck.

Proposing to my first boyfriend at a hockey game wasn’t my smartest move. Not only does said boyfriend walk out on me, but the whole stupid thing goes viral, and it turns out the man I was dating has too many boyfriends to count. Internet fame has crowned me a member of the Jilted Exes’ Club, a name I’d do anything to escape. One thing’s for sure: I’m not making the same mistake again. No more boyfriends, just easy hookups. And I’ll start with this gorgeous catch in Seattle. The only problem…he’s a god in bed, and I’m an inexperienced mess.