The Lovely Teacher Addictions: Release Tour : C'est le jour J pour Pucked Off d'Helena Hunting

Pucked Off d' Helena Hunting

Date de Publication: 21 Février 2017

Genre: Romance Contemporaine

businessman working on laptop in black suit

***Une romance de la saga Pucked ***

Je suis le défenseur de la NHL Lance Romero, Alias Lance “Romance." Je suis célèbre pour les fêtes et les excès en tout genre . Je suis celui qui a le plus de pénalités de la ligue. Je suis pratiquement de toutes les bagarres. Je suis celui qui prend le plus souvent les coups. Je suis un joueur sur et en dehors de la glace. Je suis celui que les femmes sans inhibitions désirent. Non pas parce que j'aime la notoriété mais parce que je ne sais pas me comporter autrement . J'ai des secrets. Que j'ai partagés avec la mauvaise personne, et elle les a utilisés contre moi. Parfois elle le fait encore. Je pourrais couper les ponts . Mais elle rend cela difficile car elle est la mauvaise graine que je mérite. Du moins c'est ce que je croyais jusqu'à ce qu'une personne de mon passé se retrouve dans mon présent. Elle est toute la bonté du monde. Elle illumine mes ténèbres. Je ne devrais pas la désirer. Mais c'est le cas. Je devrais la laisser tranquille. Mais ce ne sera pas le cas .

Extrait VO:

Armed with my clipboard, I walk down the hall to the waiting room. Lance is impossible to miss. Despite the fact that he’s wearing a sweatshirt and the hood is covering half of his face, he’s more than six feet of broad, hockey-playing man. He’s so wide his shoulders encroach on the chairs on either side, which would explain why no one is sitting next to him. He’s slouched down so his head rests on the back of the chair, and his hands are clasped in his lap, a baseball cap hanging off one knee. His lips, plush and soft—I know since I’ve had them on mine; it might have been a decade ago, but I remember it clearly—are parted. He looks like he’s asleep. I clear my throat. “Lance Romero?” He doesn’t move. Bernadette, the receptionist, gives me a meaningful look. I clear my throat again and call his name a second time. He jolts awake and the hood falls back, exposing his face. It’s not in good shape. He has a black eye and bruises on his left cheek. There’s a fly bandage across one eyebrow. Sadly, he’s still hot. He blinks a few times, yawns, and smacks his lips, his tongue touching the split in the bottom one. His gaze sweeps the room and finally lands on me. Heat explodes in my cheeks and courses through my limbs, warming me from the inside out as he starts at my sneaker-clad feet and roams up over my yoga pants to my company-issued T-shirt before stopping at my face. I can’t look directly at him for more than a couple of seconds. I sincerely hope he doesn’t remember me. I cannot go there and also be professional. I’m sure the smile he gives me has melted many a panty off a slutty bunny. Mine stay right where they’re supposed to, wedged up my ass. I force a polite, professional veneer. “I’m ready for you now.”

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