Cover Reveal: Irresponsible Puckboy | Eden Finley & Saxon James
Irresponsible Puckboy | Eden Finley & Saxon James
Release Date: May 11th, 2022
Cover Design: Story Styling Cover Designs
Photographer: Michelle Lancaster
Model: Lochie Carey
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The worst part of being in love with my straight best friend is the fact he’s too oblivious to see it.
Years of pining have left me exhausted, and I need a break from Dex. I need space to get over my feelings. But when his relationship falls apart and he turns to me for comfort, I cave immediately.
If there’s one thing I hate more than being hurt, it’s seeing Dex struggle. I can’t leave him in a time of need, even if my friends say it’s my biggest downfall.
They say Dexter Mitchale is my weakness, but if that’s true, I don’t want to be strong.
I’ve always been the dumb one. It’s what I’m known for, and usually I don’t let it get to me.
I have hockey, and I have my best friend, Tripp. What more do I need?
To settle down? No thank you. Marriage? Hard pass.
According to ex-girlfriends, that makes me “irresponsible.”
But the solution I come up with to get over my fear of commitment might be my dumbest idea yet. Not only does it have team management breathing down my neck, but it puts a strain on my friendship with Tripp.
This PR nightmare could lose me the only person I’ve ever loved.
Losing girlfriends is nothing. Losing Tripp? It’s not an option.
I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him.
It’s impossible to be down or confused when you’re full of margaritas and tacos. Tripp’s suggestion for us to go out was genius, and now, as we wait in line for Rump, I can finally relax. Things this afternoon have almost been back to normal, and I didn’t realize exactly how empty I was until now.
“Would you rather,” I start, “nipple piercing or dick piercing?”
“Nipple for me, dick for the guy I’m with.”
Well that’s something I’ve never considered. “Is that … does it make a difference?”
“I know with chicks it helps hit the—”
“Same thing for dudes, just different location.”
Oh. “Huh. I hadn’t thought of that before.”
“It also makes giving head more interesting.”
“It does?” Okay, when I’d asked that question, I didn’t think it all the way through. I’d meant which would Tripp rather get, but now that we’re talking about it, I have way too much cock on the brain. I can’t stop picturing it, and now I’m really curious about how it all works. You’d think having a gay best friend would mean I know a hell of a lot more about gay sex than I actually do.
“What do you like about it?” I ask.
Tripp looks at me funny. “It’s a dick and dicks are hot.”
Not the answer I was hoping for, but I have no clue what I wanted to hear. I don’t think dicks are hot, so that doesn’t help me. But when Tripp looks away and I let myself take him in again, I can’t deny the stirring of interest that hits me.
Probably too curious for a straight guy.
But until I’m faced with a cock, how will I ever know how I’d react? I never thought I’d get hard over having Tripp touch me and that happened, so maybe I could find a dick sexy. Or his, at least.
And I promised myself I wouldn’t think about these things tonight. Tonight is about getting back to normal. I wrap my arm around Tripp’s neck and haul him closer to press a kiss to his hair.
“You smell like hot sauce,” he says, elbowing me.
I breathe hot sauce breath all over his cheek and tighten my hold on him.
“Fuck off,” Tripp says, squirming.
“One bro does not share stank breath with another bro.”
We wrestle as the line moves forward and only break apart once we hit the front and the bouncer apologizes to Tripp about making him wait in line instead of being let straight in, as though it’s some huge fail on his part.
“I didn’t realize you came here that much,” I say.
“I don’t, but they like it when I do because, you know, publicity of having an NHL player at their venue. I always tell them not to give me VIP treatment, but they don’t listen.”
Finally, I get my first view of Rump.
It’s busy and looks like most clubs I’ve been to. Dark and moody with flashing lights over the dance floor. The biggest difference here is it’s about ninety percent guys.
Tripp’s come here plenty of times without me, and I’ve always thankfully been aware enough that it’s his place to hook up, so I’ve never pushed to come with him even though I’d be an awesome wingman.
But as Tripp takes my hand and pulls me through the crowd, I’m suddenly very glad he said that grinding up on other guys is out of the question for him tonight, because even in the dark club, he’s getting a lot of attention.
I have no idea if these guys recognize him or think he’s hot, but I definitely notice the heads turning in our direction.
Tripp pauses, tugging me close to tilt his lips to my ear. “Drinks or dancing?” He pulls back to see my reply, and I use it as a chance to try to see him the way the guys here do. The dark red hair and freckles are adorable, and his hazel eyes are big and round, but that’s where the soft qualities end. His jawline is solid, his neck and shoulders are thick, and there’s an overpowering masculine quality to him that I’ve never paid much attention to before.
Tripp has always been Tripp. All of these things put together make up my best friend, but breaking his features down into his nose, his hands, the quiet confidence he has when he’s around me ….
“Dex?” His crooked smirk comes out and connects with some sort of hook behind my belly button. It tugs and feels weird and good at the same time.
“Dancing,” I shout.
His hand tightens around mine, and he starts walking again.
It wasn’t a hard question when the margaritas are still making everything softer around the edges.
Tripp gets attention on the dance floor too, so as soon as he comes to a stop in the crowd of bodies, I immediately pull him against me. I’ve always been needy for his attention, and it’s no different tonight. I want to be the only one Tripp pays attention to.
My hands close over his back until we’re chest to chest, and Tripp’s breath hits my jaw.
“Last chance to back out of the grinding,” he says.
“What, you think I don’t have moves?” I let my hands fall to his ass and pull him tighter against me. Having a muscular body pressed against mine isn’t as weird as it probably should be, but this is far from the first time I’ve been close to Tripp. It’s just the first time I’ve done it while grabbing his ass.
“I know you’ve got moves,” he says, voice barely audible over the music. “You forget, I know everything about you.” Then after a second of hesitating, Tripp’s hands find my sides, slide down to my hips like earlier, and then dip lower to grab my ass as well. “You’re playing my game now, Dex.”
Start The Series
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Partying, dudes, and hockey. What more could a gay NHL player want?
If it weren’t for Anton Hayes, my life would be perfect.
Not that he affects my life in any way. At all. That would imply I care what the winger from Philly thinks of me.
Which I don’t.
Not even a one-night stand with him can thaw his misplaced animosity toward me.
He says I’m the one with the ego, but he can talk. He rivals me for most egotistical puck boy in the league.
I hate him as much as he hates me. Even if I crave a repeat.
When it comes to hockey, I’m all about the game.
I’ve worked for years to be one of the best in the league, and l’ve done it without splashing my orientation all over the tabloids.
My hockey image is one I’ve carefully cultivated, and after one night with Ezra Palaszczuk, I risk it all.
He’s cocky, obnoxious, and has an ego bigger than Massachusetts. And okay, maybe he’s the sexiest man I’ve ever known.
We’ll never get along. Not when we sleep together. Not even when my possessive streak awakens.
That doesn’t stop us from falling into bed together over and over again.
About The Authors
Eden Finley is an Amazon bestselling author who writes steamy contemporary romances that are full of snark and light-hearted fluff.
She doesn’t take anything too seriously and lives to create an escape from real life for her readers. The ideas always begin with a wackadoodle premise, and she does her best to turn them into romances with heart.
With a short attention span that rivals her son’s, she writes multiple different pairings: MM, MMF, and MF.
She’s also an Australian girl and apologises for her Australianisms that sometimes don’t make sense to anyone else.
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Saxon James unapologetically writes happy endings for LGBT+ characters.
While not writing, SM is a readaholic and Netflix addict who regularly lives on a sustainable diet of chocolate and coffee.
Member of SCBWI.
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One of Five eARC’s for Irresponsible Puckboy
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