Bring It On (Second Chance Sports Romance)

By Cheryl Douglas

Jasmine
My life was finally on the right track. Business was booming and I was getting married. Wait! What? My fiancée cheated on me with a stripper? Oh hell no! My best friends think there’s only one way to get over him. Revenge sex with my ex. Except I’d never use Carter that way. Unless he asked me to. My well-meaning friends are convinced Carter’s the man to help me, so when they arrange for our paths to cross... sparks fly.

Carter
As a pro hockey player, I’m used to female attention. Usually for the wrong reasons. Puck-bunnies aren’t my thing. Anymore. They used to be. Before I met her, but Jasmine ruined me for all other women. How? She just stopped returning my calls. No explanation or apology. Didn’t even give me a chance to make things right. But now she’s back in my life... and she’s not getting away again!

The Exes are Hotline novellas, a ‘line’ that promises a HEA and NO Cheating with a few caveats: short standalone page turners with dirty words, naughty scenes, and possessive Alpha heroes told from the first person POV. If you like it hot, this is the series for you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cheryl Douglas
• Release date: Jul 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370688944

Cheryl Douglas

Cheryl Douglas is a USA Today bestselling author who kicks back in the country, surrounded by farm land and nature. Her life revolves around family, country music, travel, caffeine, chocolate, and deadlines.Visit Cheryl at www.authorcheryldouglas.com

Book preview

Chapter 1

Jasmine

---

Here’s to revenge sex, my best friends said in unison as they raised their glasses.

I clinked my wine glass against theirs half-heartedly, but I wasn’t on board with their plan. Just because my ex-fiancé was a lying, cheating a-hole didn’t mean I had to jump in bed with the first hot guy who turned my head. Did it?

You know the old saying, Violet said, winking at me. The best way to get over one man is to get under another one.

I don’t think that’s a saying, I said, rolling my eyes.

Fine, she said, nudging Becca’s shoulder. Call it sage advice.

Violet and Becca both worked for me, Becca in marketing and Violet in product development. They’d been with me every step of the way, helping me build the brand, picking me up when I stumbled, drying my tears when I cried, and jumping up and down with me when we hit a home run. I loved those girls like sisters and I knew I owed my success to them.

Unfortunately, I also owed my success to Alex, my ex-fiancé. He had been my angel investor when I started my business three years ago. We became friends. He took on a more hands-on role as the business grew, and the next thing I knew, we were sleeping together. Stupid, I know. But I wouldn’t be the first woman to confuse love and gratitude.

I still can’t believe he slept with a stripper at his bachelor party, Violet said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. That’s just nasty.

What I can’t believe, Becca said, chuckling, is that his best friend shot a video of it and sent it to our girl here.

I should be grateful to Seth for putting his friendship with Alex on the line when he saw him pull a douchebag move like that, but I wasn’t ready just yet to say, Thanks for ruining my life. I would be eventually, when the sting wore off. Because if not for Seth, I might have actually married that asshat.

Ugh! Can we not talk about this anymore? It’s bad enough I have to see Alex at work every day. I sure as hell don’t want to waste tonight talking about him. Yeah, I’d given him more than a figurehead position in my company. He was the CFO, which meant I had to put up with him, like it or not.

Oh, Becca said, exchanging a glance with Violet. Look who just walked in.

Oh no. Hell no! Carter-frickin’-Wells. The professional hockey player I’d dated for eight months before I started my business. The star of my fantasies and sports royalty in a city that wanted a Cup so bad they could taste it—and they were counting on their star center to deliver the goods this year.

This cannot be a coincidence, I said, treating my so-called best friends to the stink eye. How did you know he’d be here?

They exchanged a guilty look before Becca confessed. I follow him on social media, and fans are always posting selfies taken with him here after the games. I guess it’s their favorite post victory hangout.

Which explained why two women who didn’t know the difference between a field goal and a hat trick wanted to come to a sports bar for our girls’ night. Sneaky bitches. But I loved them and couldn’t stay mad at them, which they damn well knew when they’d set me up to see him again.

Damn, he looks hot, Violet said, undressing Carter with her eyes.

It was my own fault really, since I’d told my besties about all the freaky shit we used to do in the sack. Can we not stare? I said through clenched teeth. I don’t want him to see me.

It wasn’t as if we’d ended things on bad terms. We’d never really ended it at all. It wasn’t that kind of relationship. We’d hit it whenever he was in town and had a little time to kill. No expectations, just hot sex. So when I had to start focusing on my business, I got too busy to answer his calls or return his texts… or thank him for those flowers he sent me on my birthday. Okay, in hindsight, maybe he had deserved a proper send-off.

Why wouldn’t you want him to see you? Becca demanded. Who better to help you forget your ex—

I’m not going to use Carter. Not that he’d see it that way. If he was anything like I remembered, he’d consider a night of toe-curling sex to help me forget my ex his civic duty.

Who says you’d be using him? Vi asked, curling her hand around my forearm. Come on, when are you gonna get another chance like this? He’s here. You’re here. You’re both single—

How do you know he’s single? I took a sip from my third glass of wine. If they’d expected to talk me into this, we should have been pounding them a lot harder and drinking something more potent than white wine.

Seriously? they asked, exchanging a loaded look before they burst out laughing.

Yeah, okay. I got the joke. Carter had always been a bit of a man-whore. But in his defense, those puck bunnies made it too easy for him. It was like throwing a bunch of twenties on the ground and telling a teenager not to pick them up. Too tempting. Especially for a guy who liked sex as much as Carter.

Oh God, I muttered when I saw our waiter approaching our table with a tray of drinks we hadn’t ordered. Please tell me those aren’t from him. He hadn’t even looked our way, from what I could tell, but he had been credited with having eyes in the back of his head on the ice.

Hey, ladies, the cute waiter said, winking at me. Courtesy of the gentleman at the end of the bar wearing the leather jacket.

Oh, good. Not Carter.

Thank you, Becca said, distributing the glasses before the waiter could do the honors. She lifted her hand, waving her fingers at Leather Jacket.

He nodded, his lips curving into a smile as they traveled around the table before landing on me. Huh. He was cute. He didn’t look like a serial killer. But then, neither had Ted Bundy.

There was a reason I didn’t pick up guys in bars and take them home. I was smart and careful, and okay, maybe a little on the conservative side. Until I’d been seeing someone for a while. Then I wasn’t afraid to get my freak on.

I sneaked a peek at Carter, who was standing at the bar and laughing it up with a few of his teammates. My girls were right. He was still as hot as hell. And damn, seeing him again conjured up all kinds of memories. Shower sex. Morning sex. Drunk sex. The list went on… and on… and on.

Just go talk to him, Becca said, nudging my arm with hers.

Who? Leather Jacket?

No, dummy. Carter.

Like I didn’t know who she was talking about. I’m not just going to go up and start talking to him.

What if he struggled to remember my name? Okay, that was unlikely, since we’d been seeing each other for months. But I didn’t know how many other girls he’d been seeing during that time. We’d had an understanding. Don’t ask, don’t tell.

Why the hell not? Vi demanded. I don’t understand you. You’re this kick-ass little dynamo in business, yet you’re afraid to go up and talk to a guy you were screwing around with for months?

Business was different. At work, I knew what I was doing and got to call the shots. In our relationship, if you could call it that, Carter had definitely liked to be in charge, and since most of the time that resulted in unspeakable pleasure for me, I let him.

Before I could decide what to do, Leather Jacket approached, distracting me. At least temporarily. I knew it wouldn’t be long before I had to bite the bullet and face my past… in the form of one ripped hockey player, with hidden tats and caramel eyes, who knew secrets about how I liked it that even I hadn’t figured out ‘til he came along.

Carter

---

Hey, that chick looks familiar, doesn’t she? my line mate, Jesse Butler, asked, nudging me.

My eyes followed his to the dance floor, and I forgot how to breathe. It couldn’t be her. I’d spent months looking for her in every crowd after she dumped me without notice. No way would fate drop her in my lap now, after all this time.

Except she wasn’t in my lap—she was rubbing up on some dirtbag on the dance floor… and that pissed me off.

That’s Jasmine Stevens, I said as I brought my beer bottle to my lips. That girl I was seeing a few years back.

He snapped his fingers. That’s right. We all went out together a couple of times. Jenna loved her, he said, referring to his wife. She thought you should quit wasting time and put a ring on that girl’s finger.

Not like I hadn’t thought about it. But before I’d gotten the chance, she bailed on me, and I wanted to know why.

Think I’ll ask her to dance, I said, setting my bottle on the bar.

She’s already dancing.

Think I give a shit?

When I saw something I wanted, I went for it. And I’d wanted Jasmine since the first time I laid eyes on her. We’d met in a bar a lot like this one, during the off-season. I’d been looking to kill a little time with a beautiful woman, and she’d been looking for a break from working on her master’s thesis. It had been a win-win. We both got what we wanted: hot sex and an unforgettable distraction.

I made my way through the crowd, ignoring the comments from bar patrons who were starting to figure out who I was. Soon I’d be mobbed with people wanting autographs and selfies, so I had to make my move fast. Before Jas got away.

I tapped her dance partner on the shoulder, gritting my teeth when I saw his hand wander to the swell of her ass. "Hey, man, you mind if