"Bishop and Stevie's relationship is pure, raw,
can't-take-your-eyes-off-the-the-page kindle crack. One of my favorite books by
this brilliant author." - LJ Shen, USA Today bestselling author
A Favor for a Favor, all-new standalone slow burn romance
from New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting, is available now!
A new stand-alone romance about trading favors, battling
wills, and winning love.
When I joined Seattle’s NHL expansion team, I thought it was
the start of something great. But nothing ever goes the way you expect. Take my
introduction to my new neighbor. She came rolling in on the hot mess express at
midnight, making a racket while she tried to get into my team captain’s
apartment. Did I mention that he’s married to a woman who definitely was not her?
Imagine my surprise when I end up with an injury that has me
out of the game for weeks, and she’s the one to offer to help me. I
should probably add that she’s not the captain’s mistress. She’s his sexy,
pastel-haired younger sister.
So we come up with an arrangement: she rehabs me so that I
can get back on the ice sooner, and she can add a professional athlete that
isn’t her brother to her client list. Seems simple enough. As long as I can
keep my hands to myself and my hormones in check.
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Excerpt
She makes me lift my arm and drapes it over her shoulder.
She’s incredibly small compared to me. She tucks one arm under my knee and
gently grips the back of my calf with the other. “On the count of three,” she
orders. I tense up when she hits three. She gets my leg about six inches off
the floor, which is when I scream bloody murder again and grab on to her with
both hands.
“Okay. That’s not going to work. The angle is too awkward.”
She taps her lip and holds her finger up. “I have an idea.”
She ducks out from under my arm and hooks her fingers in the
waistband of her yoga pants.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Calm down. Some bathing suits have less coverage than my
underwear. Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”
She kicks off her yoga pants, leaving her in a T-shirt and
panties. They’re plain cotton boy shorts, which should be a good thing, but
apparently my body doesn’t care that it’s not a satin or lace thong. All it
cares about is the proximity of almost-naked pussy.
Rook’s sister is standing in my bathroom in her underwear.
If I had a sister who looked like Stevie and I knew that she was standing in
one of my teammate’s bathrooms half-naked, I would probably kick the shit out
of the guy. Thankfully, I have a brother.
I try to keep my eyes averted, sort of, but I catch her
reflection in the vanity mirror.
She has fantastic legs. Athletic. Strong. And her ass.
Goddamn. She definitely does a lot of squats, based on how round and firm it
looks. The ache in my groin turns into that stabbing pain again because I’m
getting hard. I think about my grandmother in a bathing suit to counteract the
effect of Stevie being partly undressed.
She steps into the tub, and I force myself to keep my eyes
down, bringing up the image of that hot chick in the tub who turns into a
rotting old lady in The Shining. That helps a bit. At least until Stevie moves
into my personal space and starts touching me again. I mutter a string of
profanity, especially when I feel her boob pressed against my arm for a few
seconds. I have no choice but to latch on to her shoulder as we lift my leg over
the edge of the tub. I’m sweating, I’m angry, and I hate my dick.
“I need you to stop touching me!” It’s stupid because I’m
still holding on to her, not the other way around.
“Why are you yelling at me?” she shouts back.
“Because you’re half-undressed in my tub, and I’m a guy, and
apparently my dick is a fucking sadist. It honestly feels like my balls are on
fire right now. A semi has never] been this painful.”
“Well, close your damn eyes and think about dead things.”
“It doesn’t matter if I close them. The image of you in
panties is burned into the back of my lids, probably for the rest of my fucking
life. It’s all I can see.”
“You’d think you’d never seen a set of bare legs before.”
She helps me lower myself into the tub and steps out.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a pair up close,” I
grumble.
“Such a surprise, with your warm, fuzzy personality.”
About Helena Hunting
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED,
Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant
family and two moderately intolerant cats. She writes contemporary romance
ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.
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Website: http://www.helenahunting.com/
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