Ice Giant – A Curvy Girl Hockey Romance Read Online Nichole Rose

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)

Jonas Michaud
There are two places I’m not supposed to be: in trouble and in a gentleman’s club.
But thanks to my sister, I find myself in both anyway.
And just in time to rescue the sports reporter who drives me crazy.
Jamie Knight is the curviest little enemy I’ve ever had.
She’s been publishing stories about my hockey teammates for years.
But I want her attention focused on me.
Finding me in Dionysus is the story of her career.
Imagine my surprise when it never airs.

Jamie Knight
There are two things I did not expect: being propositioned in a dungeon or being saved by the hockey player of my dreams.
But thanks to my best friend, here I am anyway.
I only came to Dionysus to get a peek at Nashville’s naughtiest.
Instead, I’m leaving with the story of my lifetime.
But I’ve been in love with Jonas Michaud and his wild ways since I set eyes on him.
Airing this story would destroy him, and that’s the last thing I want to do.
So I keep his secret.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One


If there are two places I'm positive I'm not supposed to be right now, they're in trouble and wading through a gentleman's club. But here I am anyway…naked bodies draped over every piece of furniture in the place. Sensual music and blissful moans mingle with the smell of sex in the air.

It's a hedonistic paradise.

And I just want to get the hell out of here before someone notices me and the team publicist kills me. Despite the mask obscuring my face, there aren't many men my size in Nashville. At least not with the bank account and connections to afford them entry to a place like this.

Dionysus is steeped in luxury from the outer bar inward. Every room Kellan Alexander and I have been through is elegant and understated, with soft lighting and high-end furniture. And people fucking like rabbits all over the place.

I have no desire to watch the show.

A motherfucker's gotta survive. And Kelsey, our publicist, may be pint-sized, but I think she married Satan in a ritual that gave her dominion over hellfire. I'm from the wilds of Canada, where winters stay colder than a well digger's ass, and the only things hot are the tempers of the damn bulls. Hellfire and I don't mix.

She will kill Kellan and me if she finds out we were ever here. If news of our attendance leaks, she'll do worse than that. My teammates have been the source of enough gossip and negative press lately. It's making her extra grouchy.

"Jesus H. Christ," I mumble, trying not to stare as three of Nashville's most eligible spread a brunette across a table, shackling her arms and legs to hooks installed for just such an occasion.

If my baby sister is here, I'm killing her before I send her back to Canada. After I kill whomever she’s with and anyone watching, I quickly decide as a crowd gathers around the table to watch whatever debauchery is about to unfold.

"I warned you," Kellan mutters.

That he did. Though how he knew about this place, I don't even want to know. I'm not a member here. I prefer to keep my kink behind closed doors, and I haven't gotten laid in longer than I can remember. Kellan, on the other hand? Well…my teammates and I are already too damn close. When you share a locker room with thirty other assholes, it's inevitable. We've bled together, been through hell together. I see their junk almost as often as I see my own. But some things I do not need to know.

His kinks rank high on the list of shit I can live without ever knowing.

"More, sir."

"Fuck," Kellan growls as a man in a mask—I'm pretty fucking certain he's a popular country musician—brings a paddle down against the red ass of a blonde.

She sobs in ecstasy, clawing at the leather cushion beneath her.

I jerk my gaze away, my jaw clenched tight enough to crack. Fucking hell, if Parker is here, I'm killing her and whoever brought her here. She's only twenty-one! Way too goddamn young to be in a place like this, seeing things like this. I knew letting her move in with me for a while was a bad idea. She's way too likely to end up in situations like this. My sister is…well, she's the female version of me. Which is to say hell on wheels and not sorry about it.

When you live on a ranch in Canada, there isn't much trouble to get into. The same can't be said of Nashville. This city has turned more than a few good girls bad. And Parker could find trouble locked in a fucking closet.

"You check the basement," Kellan says when we reach the end of the room without finding her. "I'll check upstairs."

"You don't even know what she looks like."

"I'm guessing she looks like you."

She looks nothing like me. Parker is about five foot nothing, exactly like our Ma. Besides, even if she looked like me, everyone is wearing fucking masks. It's just one of the ways this place tries to protect the privacy of its rich and infamous members.

"She's a curvy blonde," I say. "With two strands of pink in her hair."

Kellan jerks his chin in a nod. "I'll check upstairs."


He turns his head in my direction. Even through his white mask, I can feel his impatient stare.

"What's in the basement?"

"Exhibition rooms."

"What's upstairs?"

"You want to check the basement," he says instead of answering…which I take to mean that I probably will kill someone tonight if I catch Parker upstairs. Jesus Christ.

"Right," I mutter, turning toward the stairs leading down to the basement. A group dressed in leather spills out of the stairwell. I step to the side, allowing them to pass, and then stomp down the stairs. The music reverberates off the stucco walls, the pounding rhythm of the bass rattling my skull.