Pucked Up Love Series by Nichole Rose – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Pucked Up Love Series by Nichole Rose – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Mon, 30 Jun 2025 19:07:53 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Pucked Up Love Series by Nichole Rose – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Pucking Forbidden (Pucked Up Love #4) Read Online Nichole Rose http://www.ilovenovels.com/pucking-forbidden-pucked-up-love-4-read-online-nichole-rose Mon, 30 Jun 2025 19:07:53 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/pucking-forbidden-pucked-up-love-4-read-online-nichole-rose Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Sports Authors: Nichole Rose Series: Pucked Up Love Series by Nichole Rose
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Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)

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Making a play for his biggest rival's sister will send this hockey star straight to the penalty box.

JORDAN'S STORY IS COMING SOON!

These hockey stars are at the top of their game on the ice. But off the ice, their lives are wrecks. Between dodging puck bunnies, the paparazzi, and an endless parade of endorsement deals, they don't have time for love...until they do.

They say the bigger you are, the harder you fall. But these ice giants won't know what hit them when they fall face-first in love. For a chance at forever, they'll play the dirtiest, steamiest game of their lives. And the winner takes all

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

Prologue

Jordan

The Bucks' locker room is usually eerily quiet between periods. Unless Coach is reaming us for something, no one says much. We’re all too busy conserving energy, trying to get our heads on straight, or dealing with our equipment to get up to the usual bullshit.

So it’s suspicious as hell when I hear my teammates’ loud mouths from before I even reach the door.

“What the fuck?”

I shove my way inside to find out what the hell is going on and then pause. Several members of the team are gathered around my best friend and our captain, Jamison Peters, their eyes fixed on his phone. Judging by the sheer number of moans coming from the device…they aren’t watching replays.

“Holy shit, J,” Jonny Limburg breathes like he’s in awe. “Look at the way they bounce every time she–”

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, allowing the door to slam shut behind me before he can finish that sentence. I don’t want to know how it ends. Frankly, I don’t want to know a goddamn thing about what these idiots fantasize about, what kind of porn they watch, how many times a day they jerk off…none of it.

As far as I’m concerned, we’re too close already. There are a few members of the team I respect, like Jamison and Pablo Gutierrez. But most of these guys are assholes. They make a game of fucking around, taking bets on who can bag the most bunnies.

That shit isn’t me. It’s never been me. I’m not opposed to sex. Do whatever the fuck you want to do so long as it’s consensual, but I was raised by a single mom. Doesn’t matter how old I am now, she’d still kick my ass if she ever found out I treated women like half of these guys do.

I don’t lead on women who don’t interest me…and none of them interest me. Save one. Sweet little Sutton Peters is an unattainable dream, too damn young for me, but still the only one I can’t get out of my head.

As far as she’s concerned, I’m just her older brother’s annoying ass best friend and teammate. She tolerates me following her around because of him. And she thinks I only look out for her because of him.

It’s the seventh circle of hell.

I shouldn’t feel the way I do about her. She was seventeen when I met her, for Christ’s sake. But…I can’t shake it, either. No matter what I do, no matter how much I’ve tried to deny or fight it or pretend it wasn’t happening, she’s it for me.

I’ve never said a word about it, never tried to do anything about it. But keeping my distance gets harder and harder every damn day since her eighteenth birthday a few months ago.

If she ever finds out, she’ll never look at me the same. Neither with Jamison. He will fucking kill me. And I won’t even blame him for it. I’m an asshole for even thinking the shit I do about her. There’s no defending it.

He glances up as the door thuds closed. The smirk on his face slips, guilt flickering through his brown eyes as soon as he realizes I’m the one standing there.

“Porn in the locker room? Really, man?” I cock a brow at him, shaking my head. He should know better than this shit. Hell, out of everyone on the team, he’s the last I’d expect to pull something like this. He’s our captain, the one responsible for keeping everyone in line.

We’ve been tight since I was traded to the team. But he’s changed since he was named captain, and not for the better. It’s like he has everything he worked his ass off for and doesn’t know what to do with it now. He’s slowly morphing into a world-class prick.

“It’s nothing,” he says, quickly hauling himself to his feet to shove his phone into his locker. “We were just blowing off steam.”

“Someone was blowing something. That’s for sure.” Grayson Hicks chortles like an idiot, slapping him on the back.

“Vanessa will kick your ass if she finds out you’re watching porn,” I mutter to Jamison, stomping toward the bench to adjust my skates.

Some of the guys laugh like they know something I don’t, but Jamison just shrugs off the comment like his girlfriend’s opinion doesn’t matter. That’s bullshit, though. We both know he’s crazy about her. He risked Sutton’s wrath, who didn’t want him dating her new college roommate, just to get with her.

“Watching? More like participating,” Grayson snickers.

Participating? What the fuck is he talking about?

I whip my head in Jamison’s direction, my eyes narrowed.

“I did not know Vanessa got down like that, man,” Grayson continues, oblivious to the sudden tension in the room. “Maybe I need to find me a sweet little college girl.”

Vanessa? Jesus fucking…

Half the guys who were gathered around Jamison cough uneasily, looking anywhere but at me, but my attention is focused solely on our goddamn captain. He looks like a deer in the headlights.

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Pucking Curves (Pucked Up Love #3) Read Online Nichole Rose http://www.ilovenovels.com/pucking-curves-pucked-up-love-3-read-online-nichole-rose Wed, 04 Jun 2025 21:18:47 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/pucking-curves-pucked-up-love-3-read-online-nichole-rose Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Sports, Virgin Authors: Nichole Rose Series: Pucked Up Love Series by Nichole Rose
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Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)

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Waking up married to his best friend's curvy baby sister might be the best mistake he ever made...

COMING SOON

These hockey stars are at the top of their game on the ice. But off the ice, their lives are wrecks. Between dodging puck bunnies, the paparazzi, and an endless parade of endorsement deals, they don't have time for love...until they do.

They say the bigger you are, the harder you fall. But these ice giants won't know what hit them when they fall face-first in love. For a chance at forever, they'll play the dirtiest, steamiest game of their lives. And the winner takes all

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

Chapter One

Archer

“Heads up,” Micah Rushing mutters as soon as we step off the elevator into the lobby, his voice strained. “The vultures are descending.”

I whip my head up from my phone just in time to see a group of women in tight leather skirts, cut up Carvers’ jerseys, and heavy makeup rushing across the lobby toward us. Their heels clack against the tiled floor in a familiar, infuriating rhythm that makes my head throb. They’re like a pack of wild ostriches descending…eyes laser focused, heads straight, chests out, terrifying looks that scream “I’m going to devour you” written all over their faces.

Fuck my life.

“Oh my god! Archer Graves! I thought that was you!” the bottle-blonde leading the pack practically squeals, trying to throw herself into my arms like we’re long-lost lovers.

I quickly sidestep her, refusing to be caught up in whatever bullshit game she wants to play tonight. Nope. Nu-uh. Not happening. I don’t know her, and I’m not interested.

“Don’t touch me,” I growl, a hard edge to my voice. I don’t really give a shit if she and her friends think I’m an asshole or not. That’s their prerogative. It won’t be the first time I’ve been called something uncomplimentary by one of our female fans. Hell, I doubt it’ll be the last, either. But I don’t fuck puck bunnies. Ever.

There are only one pair of hands I want anywhere near me…and that won’t ever happen. Wren Erikson is Micah’s baby sister, completely unattainable. Putting my hands on her would violate every rule there is to violate.

That hasn’t stopped my obsession with the curvy little beauty, now, has it?

No. The answer is no.

I’ve been gone for her since the day we met at Micah’s wedding a year ago. She was the only woman in the room not fawning all over his hockey player friends. In fact, she didn’t want a goddamn thing to do with any of us. I fucking loved every bit of that.

I’ve been followed around, cooed at, and fawned over for most of my life. The shit gets old quick. I never wanted to be some guy women wanted to fuck. I just wanted to play hockey. The sport is in my blood. If there was ever a time when I didn’t have skates on my feet and a stick in my hands, I don’t remember it.

I remember exactly what it felt like looking at Wren for the first time, though. She was dressed in this teal and white pinstripe bathing suit, soaking up the sun poolside, beads of sweat trickling between her breasts. Looking like a fucking goddess with those curves on display.

I wanted to put my hands all over her…and she looked at me like she didn’t give a shit who I was or what I wanted. I was blocking the sun she was trying to enjoy. As far as she was concerned, that made me a problem.

I spent the whole weekend following her around like a lost puppy, slowly winning her over. By the time the wedding festivities ended, she didn’t entirely hate me. And I was completely fucking obsessed.

Micah doesn’t have a clue. For obvious reasons. If he ever finds out how I feel about her, he’ll lose his mind. He’s crazy protective of her. Can’t say I blame him for that shit because she’s literal perfection. But the girl was made for me.

And if she or Micah ever finds out the truth about the things I’ve done to keep her close, all hell will break loose. She’ll never forgive me. He will literally murder me.

RIP to our friendship.

RIP to our championship dreams.

RIP to any chance of ever seeing her again.

I refuse to allow that to happen, so I take what I can get and pretend it’s enough. It isn’t. Not even close. But when the alternative is being shut out of her life entirely? Well, a motherfucker’s gotta do what a motherfucker’s gotta do.

The blonde draws up short, shock filtering across her face, as if she can’t believe I’ve actually told her no. I guess she didn’t get the memo. My answer is always no. Never. Not fucking happening.

“Hands off, ladies,” Micah drawls beside me, no more patient with their bullshit than I am…but somehow far more charming. He even manages to smile. “Find a player willing to invite you into bed. It’s not gonna be me. And this one?” He shoots me a shit-eating grin, mischief in his brown eyes. “He’s a born-again virgin.”

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Pucking Fake (Pucked Up Love #2) Read Online Nichole Rose http://www.ilovenovels.com/pucking-fake-pucked-up-love-2-read-online-nichole-rose Mon, 21 Apr 2025 22:19:35 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/pucking-fake-pucked-up-love-2-read-online-nichole-rose Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Novella, Sports, Virgin Authors: Nichole Rose Series: Pucked Up Love Series by Nichole Rose
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Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 50840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)

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His new assistant hates him. Too bad he just told the world they're dating...

Logan Moreno
Being a problem, I can handle. Being one of my sister's problems? Not so much. I've done everything I can to keep her out of the press…even when it's meant watching my reputation take hit after hit.
But I did not expect things to get this complicated.
Because a reporter won't stop sniffing around…and I just met my assistant in a bar and took her home. I probably should have warned her about my sister and her kid.
Now, Peyton thinks the kid is mine. And she hates me.
The only solution to both of my problems is obvious. I tell the world that we're dating.
It's true. At least, it will be as soon as I convince her that what she's feeling isn't hate. It's the makings of forever.

Peyton Cloud
Going home with the goalie who looks like sin is a bad idea, but I go anyway. Color me surprised when I realize he has a wife and kid at home.
I run out faster than an Olympian in a foot race.
Only to find out he's the player I'll be working for come Monday.
Why does Baby Jesus hate me?
Logan swears I've got him all wrong and that the kid isn't his. As if I haven't heard that before. My dad said the same thing—about me.
But this time, I really want to believe it. There's something about this ridiculous man I can't resist. Even when he announces to the world that we're dating.
For the record, we definitely aren't. Ever. I don't think.

These hockey stars are at the top of their game on the ice. But off the ice, their lives are wrecks. Between dodging puck bunnies, the paparazzi, and an endless parade of endorsement deals, they don't have time for love...until they do.

They say the bigger you are, the harder you fall. But these ice giants won't know what hit them when they fall face-first in love. For a chance at forever, they'll play the dirtiest, steamiest game of their lives. And the winner takes all.

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

Chapter One

Peyton

Either God hates me, or the devil is breathing down my neck. I'm not sure which it is. But I do know a few things for sure: my potential future boss is one of the professional hockey players seated in the booth at the back of the Players' Club, I'm not entirely sure which one he is…and every single one of them is gorgeous. I also know there's no chance this ends well for me. No chance at all.

"What exactly did Jenna say?" my best friend, Serena asks, her gray eyes locked on the team over the rim of her cocktail glass.

"Aside from the fact that my life is over? Nothing much."

Her quiet laugh whispers across the bar. "I'm serious, Peyton. What did she say?"

"One of the guys on the team needs an assistant. Something about a baby or family issues causing him to miss important stuff?" I take a gulp of water. I may have been too busy freaking out to pay attention to the details. "I'm supposed to meet with their publicist on Monday to discuss the details."

"I'd climb any of them like a frigging tree," Serena mutters, still staring at the booth in the back where they're all cloistered. "How are you supposed to work for one of them?"

I cast a furtive glance at the tables around us before shooting her a death glare. "Keep your voice down."

Her full lips curve into a smirk as she meets my gaze. "Please. Every woman here is thinking the same thing." She nods at a nearby table—one packed with women in low-cut tops and barely-there dresses. "They even came dressed for battle."

She isn't wrong about that. How do you even walk in a dress that short without the whole world seeing your ass? I don't know. It's a mystery I have yet to solve, and believe me, I've tried. My attempts led me to the conclusion that I am not nearly graceful enough to pull it off.

I've always been a duckling in a sea of swans. Except I never actually turned into anything else. I'm short, curvy, and I have trust issues. Snark is my love language, and I hide behind it like it's a shield.

There's no way I have my shit together enough to work for one of the world-famous athletes at that table without making a total ass of myself. They're literal hockey royalty. Every single one of them graces magazine covers, has brand endorsements and legions of fans screaming their names.

You know what I have? Student loan debt, a fifteen-year-old car, and a couch with a spring that jabs me in the ass if I sit in the wrong place. For the record, having extra padding back there doesn't help when metal is hellbent on performing an unsolicited rectal exam.

I need this job. Hell, my bank account needs this job. But…gulp.

I cannot talk to men who look like them. I can't even deal with men who look like them. It always ends in disaster. Mostly because I'm mouthy and combative. Guys who look like them don't like mouthy and combative. They like classy and cute.

How the hell am I supposed to work for one of them?

You've got four days to figure it out. Tick tock.

"Crap," I groan, grinding the palms of my hands against my eyes for a moment. I pull them away and glance at the table again. Nope. They're still hot. Especially…Jesus. I don't even know what color blue that is. Cornflower? Cerulean? Navy? Whatever. The giant with the wicked smirk and the gorgeous blue eyes who looks like he'd fuck you dirty against the wall without breaking a sweat? There's something wild in his expression that's a little too attractive.

Judging by the way half the women in the bar keep eyeing him up like he's cattle on the block…I'm not the only one who thinks so. He's definitely not going home alone tonight.

I'm not jealous. Nope. Not. At. All.

So we're lying instead of breathing now, huh? the angel on my shoulder asks.

I pointedly ignore that judgmental bitch.

"So did Jenna say which is your future boss?" Serena asks.

"I have no idea," I whisper. "She didn't give me a name." I groan quietly. "Why did I say yes to this?"

"Because you need a job that actually pays." Serena squeezes my hand. "And because you've got this, Peyton. You can handle it."

I shoot her the look. She knows which one. It's the same one I've been giving her since we were college freshmen together and she convinced me that I could run a marathon.

Spoiler alert: I could not run a marathon. I have asthma!She just grins in response, tucking strands of her dark hair behind her ears. "Don't look at me like that. You know I'm right. You're going to freak out and do the whole Peyton thing because it's what you do, but then you'll be a boss and nail the interview. You'll organize his whole life because that's also what you do. Frankly, it's about time you do it for someone who can afford to pay you what you're worth."

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Pucking Dirty (Pucked Up Love #1) Read Online Nichole Rose http://www.ilovenovels.com/pucking-dirty-pucked-up-love-1-read-online-nichole-rose Wed, 19 Mar 2025 15:57:59 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/pucking-dirty-pucked-up-love-1-read-online-nichole-rose Genre: Alpha Male, Forbidden, Insta-Love, Sports, Virgin Authors: Nichole Rose Series: Pucked Up Love Series by Nichole Rose
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Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)

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He'll break every rule in the book to claim his coach's daughter.

Nash Whatley
Coach had two rules when I joined the Keep my name out of the press, and don't even think about touching his daughter. The first one? Easy. I'm not some rookie with a chip on my shoulder. The second one? Complicated.

Emilia Lariat might just be the thing I've been missing. But this sassy little minx thinks she can hide what we are together. We'll see how easy that is when I've got her bent over every flat surface in this arena.

She wants to play? That's fine. But I came to win, and not even her father will stop me.

Emilia Lariat
When my father told me to meet him in the locker room, the sausage-fest I walked in on wasn't what he had in mind. Now, I know what his entire roster looks like naked. Puck bunnies would kill to be me right now…and I'd kill to burn the image from my brain.

Thank God for Nash Whatley, my savior in skates. From the minute the growly giant drags me out of the locker room with his hands over my eyes, he's got my head and heart all messed up.

He's the last person I should be sneaking around with…but the second he touches me, I forget exactly what we're risking. I forget everything but his name.

Right up until my dad finds out, anyway

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

Chapter One

Emilia

Isaw a dick once. My lab partner pulled his out mid-project during my freshman year of college. Naturally, I screamed, and karate chopped him across the throat. I'm not sure who was more startled, me or him.

But honestly. I don't know what else he expected me to do. Drop to my knees and slurp it down? No, thank you.

I didn't ask to see it, and it wasn't attractive. It honestly looked a little like a one-eyed lizard dying of dehydration.

Needless to say, I haven't been in a rush to see another one.

So when I march into the locker room at the Washington Carvers' arena to meet my dad, and it's a sausagefest—literally, there are dicks swinging everywhere—muscle memory kicks in.

A startled scream rips from my throat as I assume the position…knees bent, hands up. Ready to do moderate amounts of damage. The one thing I forget to do? Close my eyes.

It's like my brain short circuits, and I can't look away.

The entire locker room falls silent, a dozen sets of eyes locked on me.

I'm staring at their dicks. They're staring at me.

Awkward.

"No weird, dehydrated one-eyed lizard cocks here," I mumble. Guess that solves the mystery of why Chad decided to whip his out apropos of nothing. He was not a show'er or a grow'er. He needed medical intervention.

"Uh, who's the chick?" Logan Moreno, the team's goalie, slowly lowers his hands to cover his junk, humor glinting in his striking blue eyes.

"More importantly, did she just compare our cocks to lizards?" River St. James, second line center and countrywide playboy, makes no move to cover his as he leans up against the wall, flashing his dimples at me.

"Why does she look like she just ripped one?" Micah Rushing asks, his brows furrowed. His wedding band glints on his finger as he slowly yanks a pair of boxers up his muscular legs.

"That smell isn't me. I think it's your sweaty balls." I wrinkle my nose, glancing around. The organization spared no expense on this place. It's fancy fancy. The floor is carpeted, with rows of open wooden lockers instead of the metal cages you'd find in a school. Their jersey numbers are painted in team colors above each one, with the logo emblazoned on the ceiling. But there's a lingering hint of stale sweat, as if it's permeated every inch of the room. "Does it always smell like ass in here?"

Laughter ripples across the locker room as Micah's lips quirk up into a grin. "That's not my ass and balls you smell, sweetheart. You're probably smelling Jordan."

"Fuck off, Micah," Jordan Silvestri growls, lifting a middle finger in the air before his steely gray eyes come to me, his expression severe. With the piercing in his ear, his tattoos, and his long hair tied up on top of his head, he doesn't look like he stinks. He looks downright dangerous. Hot and dangerous. "Why are you in our locker room?"

"Wow. You are a grouch," I mumble, not really surprised. Everyone says he can be difficult. Not that I would really know.

My dad has been the head coach of the Washington Carvers for the last six years, but I've spent even longer on the other side of the country, chasing my dreams. Even if I hadn't been, my dad has always tried to keep me as far from the team as possible.

As far as he's concerned, hockey players aren't to be trusted, especially not around his daughter. I guess he'd know. He played professionally for years before my mom got pregnant with me. She wanted to put me up for adoption. He didn't. That was pretty much the end of his career on the ice.

"And you didn't answer the question."

"She's Lariat's daughter."

I glance to the right to see Archer Graves, the team captain, leaning against a door frame, his dark hair damp as if he just finished showering. He jerks his chin at me, amusement in his blue eyes. "What's up, Emilia?"

"Oh, thank God." My hands fall back to my sides, relief rushing through me at the sight of someone I know. I watch their games religiously, but Archer is the only current member of the team I've ever met. He's also fully clothed. "It's a whole sausagefest in here. I was beginning to think this is all you guys do in here all day."

"Sit around naked?" Archer asks.

"Circle jerks. Isn't that what they're called?" I shrug. "I read about them. A bunch of guys get together and…" I clock the way everyone is staring at me in varying degrees of shock and horror and realize that, perhaps, I shouldn't finish that sentence. In a matter of days, I'll be their therapist. I probably shouldn't antagonize them too much right out of the gate. "You know what? Never mind. You've probably participated. You don't need me to explain the mechanics."

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