1. Prologue

1

PROLOGUE

VITO

I wished like hell I was in Las Vegas for a vacation, but I’d been sent to collect intel for the family business. I’d get the work done, but there was no reason I couldn’t have some fun while I was there.

I’d lucked into tickets for the Vegas Wildcats home game. A loud, fierce hockey game was just what I needed after a long day of meeting with close-lipped assholes who didn’t seem to understand the hell the Marchesis could rain down on them if they failed to meet our terms.

I was thrilled when I realized the seats were in the center section against the glass. I loved being right in the action. As the teams warmed up, I couldn’t take my eyes off Vegas’s No. 14, Zeke Balogh, one of the league’s growing number of out and proud gay players. He looked right up at me as he stretched on the ice, opening his legs wide and pulsing his ass. I held his gaze for several seconds. He was fucking mesmerizing. The other players looked just as obscene as they worked their hips open, but something about the way Balogh moved made my whole body feel electrified. He was hot as hell, and I wished I could see more than his face and the long hair flowing down his back.

He turned away as he rolled to his stomach and brought a knee out to the side, stretching his groin. I’d like to be right behind him. I could help him stretch and then put that ass to good use.

Once he was on his feet again, I kept my eyes on him. How was his skating hotter than any other players’? I couldn’t stop watching him. It was like he’d put a spell on me.

When the warm-up time ended, I immediately pulled out my phone and looked up everything I could find on Balogh. This was his first year in the NHL. I’d be more than happy to give him some tips about fan service.

He was twenty-two, so old enough to know what he was doing, and if the flexibility he’d just showed was any indication, he’d be damn good at whatever he wanted to try, and I’d be happy to try just about anything with him. Once I read his basic stats, I looked further into articles about him. Apparently, since he’d been in Vegas, he’d gained a reputation for running through men as fast as he skated. Had the look he’d given me been as meaningful as I’d wanted it to be?

I was going to find out.

A few texts to the friend who’d gotten me the ticket was all it took to find out where the team usually hung out after a game. I was going to track down Balogh and see just how slutty he could be.

The bar was packed but it didn’t take me long to find him. I hung back, watching Balogh talk to his teammates and a group of men and women who were clustered around them. I waited for a chance to talk to him alone. I didn’t mind since the extra time gave me a chance to look at him. Without his helmet, his dark brown hair was even more stunning. I imagined myself taking hold of it and pulling his head back, exposing his throat for me to bite. He was wearing a tight black Henley that showed off the defined muscles in his chest and arms. His jeans were also tight, clinging to his plump ass. I wanted to squeeze those cheeks and hear him moan.

Eventually he headed toward the bar, and I followed him. I gave a look to the guy standing next to him, the same look I gave to men who owed my family and hadn’t paid up. He took off, and I moved in beside Balogh.

“You looked good out there on the ice today,” I said after he’d placed his order.

“Thanks.” He accepted his drink and finally turned to face me.

His eyes widened when they met mine.

“I saw you watching me from the ice.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I….”

“Don’t deny it.”

He took a step back from the bar. I loved that I’d unnerved him. He was so sure of himself when he played. I liked seeing him off balance now. Was he afraid of me? I was damn good at scaring people. That was my job.

As he moved back, I moved toward him until we were standing so close it was all I could do not to reach for him.

“I should get back to the team,” he said.

I shook my head. “Not yet. I’m curious about something.”

He glanced toward his friends then back to me. “What?”

“How real is your reputation?”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “I enjoy men. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No, there’s nothing wrong with it, but I wonder…do you get bored with all those little twinks who pursue you? Would you like to enjoy someone older, someone who could match the aggression you show on the ice? A man who could make you do whatever he says?”

He bit his lip and moved back again. “I’m just here to hang out.”

Even if that was true, I was sure I could change his mind. “Don’t tell me you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”

He shook his head. “I’m trying to be more discreet.”

“I excel at discretion.” That was the first lie I told him, but I would do whatever was necessary to have him. The longer I stood there watching him, the more I wanted him, and the surer I became that he was someone special. This wouldn’t be just another fling.

“Hey Balogh, we’re heading out.” The team’s goalie waved at him. “Are you with us?”

“Yeah, just a second.”

“You’ll have more fun if you leave with me.” I laid my hand on his arm, and he didn’t try to pull away. He was considering it.

“Possibly, but I don’t need that kind of fun right now.”

I shook my head. “You’re wrong about that. I bet you’ve never even had fun like I can show you.”

“I need to leave.” He turned and walked away.

I watched him go, then paid my tab and headed out. I had every intention of tracking him and his friends down, but as I left the bar, my phone buzzed with a message from Lucien, the head of the family.

Emergency here. Get on a plane home ASAP.

Fuck. I’d have to let Balogh go. For now.

Zeke

I hadn’t taken ten steps down the sidewalk before I was looking back toward the door of the bar. Who was that man, and how had he known exactly what I wanted? It took all my self-control not to tell my teammates to go on without me.

Hooking up with a man like that, a man who screamed DANGER! from the moment I’d seen him staring at me from behind the glass, was the last thing I needed. I was trying to lay low, to act with discretion. I couldn’t imagine a man like that being the calm, sedate partner I needed in my life.

When I’d first signed with the Wildcats, I’d been a fucking idiot. I’d made all the mistakes of a stupid-ass rookie, even those everyone warned me about. I’d come from nothing, fought my way to the NHL, and when all the money came pouring in and the fans clamored for my attention, I’d fucked it all up.

The team had signed me knowing I was out and proud. I had no regrets about that. I’d decided before I entered the draft that I wasn’t going to hide who I was. I wanted to be seen as a role model for younger LGBTQ+ people in sports, but all I became known for was how quickly I ran through men. I had a right to fuck as many men as I wanted, but I hadn’t meant to let my exploits be so public. Pictures of me and various hook-ups had been splashed all over social media, and all the news surrounding me focused on how much sex I had, not what I accomplished on the ice.

My reputation wasn’t the only thing I’d ruined. I’d lost so much fucking money at the tables. I had to win back some of what I’d lost tonight. I was drowning—fast—and I couldn’t fuck up my chance to follow my dream. Within weeks of signing with the Wildcats, I started joining my teammates at their favorite casinos on a regular basis. I allowed myself to be sucked into the allure of big winnings. I figured I was making so much money it wouldn’t matter if I threw some of it away. I’d had a long winning streak, but it came to an end like they always do.

The NHL was my one chance to be a star. I could be rich, live easy, not have any more problems, but all I’d done since I’d gotten to Las Vegas was make stupid choices. I needed to stay away from men and from gambling, at least as soon as I won enough to pay off my debt.