RELEASE DATE: February 15, 2022
HARD LIMIT from Brenda Rothert and Kat Mizera!
St. Louis Mavericks star defender Lars Jansson is dead set against relationships. A new love makes him wonder if maybe he can change, but first, he must confront the truth about who he is.
On the ice, I’m unstoppable. If anyone is in my way, it’s simple—I move them. Hockey is my life, and I don’t have the patience for relationships spanning more than one night. But when I meet a woman so bold and intriguing I can’t help wanting more, I’m blindsided by the revelation that no matter what I do, I may never be enough for her.
One night. That’s all it was supposed to be. But Lars Jansson is larger than life in every way—how could one night be enough? It’s risky for me to see him again, and to let myself fall for the stoic hockey player who is charming in his own way. He thinks it’s his truth that could undo us, but he couldn’t be more wrong about that—it’s mine.
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I hadn’t been nervous about going out on a date since I was a teenager, but tonight I was. Tonight I was fifteen again, going to the movies with the most popular boy in school, and wondering if he was going to think I was fat. I’d always been on the heavy side, but modeling had changed my outlook on that. Not that I didn’t struggle against a world that was still infatuated with size zeroes, but my career had taken me places that very few people got to go. Up until the accident, I’d stopped worrying about my weight, my sluggish metabolism, and all the things that made me who I was. Tonight, however, I was worried about all of them, and it made no sense.
Yes, I’d put on weight since the accident. Yes, I had a date with one of the hottest professional athletes I’d ever laid eyes on. And yes, it had been far too long since I’d had sex. But I’d stopped caring what people thought of me a long time ago. I’d made enough money over the years that I didn’t ever have to work another day in my life if I didn’t want to, but that wasn’t the point.
I just wasn’t completely sure what the point was.
The point was that I was nervous as fuck.
The point was that I wanted to have fun tonight.
The point, and what it really boiled down to, was that I’d paid ten thousand dollars to go out on a date with this guy and I wasn’t sure why. This was probably a terrible idea and I’d almost called and cancelled half a dozen times.
My phone buzzed, indicating I had a text, and I glanced down, knowing this was it.
Lars: I’m here. Black Suburban.
Sheridan: I’ll be right down.
I’d told him I’d meet him downstairs because there was nowhere to park on my street, so I nervously wiped my hands on my thighs, grabbed my purse, and slid my feet into my shoes. I’d opted for tight black jeans, a leopard print top that made my waist look tiny and showed a little cleavage, and black flats. My hair was down, makeup subdued but on point, and I’d gotten pretty much every hair on my body below the neck waxed.
The elevator let me out on the ground floor and I saw him before he saw me. He was standing on the sidewalk, leaning against a black SUV, arms folded across his chest as if daring my doorman to tell him to move. He really was a beautiful man. Tall and muscular with broad shoulders and the face of a model. His eyes were so blue I could see them from here and they almost mesmerized me.
One night, Sheridan, I reminded myself.
That was all this could be and I couldn’t lose sight of that.