Kane's POV

I stepped out of the arena into the cold Toronto night, the taste of Aiden Hale still burning on my tongue. My ass ached with every step—his cum still leaking down my thigh, a filthy reminder of what we’d just done in the showers. I should’ve felt satisfied. Instead, the hunger gnawed deeper. One quick fuck against the tiles wasn’t enough. It never was with him.

I hated Aiden. Hated his perfect captain’s face, the way he barked orders like he was God’s gift to hockey, the way his body fit against mine like it was made for destruction. Most of all, I hated how badly I needed...