Coach’s Off-Limits Son
MM Hockey Romance
by Jace Wilder
Free with Kindle Unlimited
Pairing: MM
Heat: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Inferno
Tropes: Forbidden Romance, Coach’s Son, Praise Kink, Age Gap, Secret Relationship, Bi Awakening, Forced Proximity, Workplace Romance
He’s my coach’s son. My trainer. My career-ending mistake. And I can’t stop coming back for more.
Ryan Keller has one rule: don’t risk the career. As the Buffalo Blades’ star defenseman, he’s spent a decade being the guy everyone relies on — steady, controlled, untouchable. The last thing he needs is his new strength coach’s hands on his body, making him want things he’s spent years pretending he doesn’t.
Lucas Ramirez is done being anyone’s secret. After a marriage that kept him invisible, he swore he’d never hide again — not for anyone, and definitely not for a closeted hockey player who reports to his father.
But the late-night workouts are too charged. The hotel rooms are too close. And Ryan’s body keeps betraying every lie his mouth tells.
What starts as a stolen kiss in a storage room becomes an arrangement neither of them can quit — filthy, frantic, and dangerously addictive. Ryan knows that if Coach finds out, he’ll lose the only father figure he’s ever had. Luke knows that if Ryan won’t step into the light, he’ll lose himself.
Something has to break.
You’ll love this book if you enjoy:
✅ Forbidden coach’s-son MM hockey romance
✅ Praise kink that WRECKS the big tough defenseman
✅ Secret locker-room hookups with escalating risk
✅ “I’ll never be someone’s secret again” meets “I’ve never wanted anything this badly”
✅ 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Inferno heat — graphic, explicit, emotional
✅ Team-as-family with the best supporting cast (Dex Marchetti owns your heart)
✅ Found family, bi awakening, and an HEA worth fighting for
✅ Book 1 in the Buffalo Blades series
⚠️ Content Warning: This novel contains explicit sexual content (graphic MM scenes including praise kink, light D/s, and semi-public encounters), strong language, sports-related injury, depictions of internalized homophobia, closeted identity, and past emotional abuse in a marriage. Intended for readers 18+.
📖 Read Chapter One Free
Not sure yet? Read the full first chapter right here.
Chapter One: Fresh Meat
The thing about discipline was that it worked until it didn’t.
Ryan Keller had spent sixteen years building a life out of controlled decisions — where to pass, when to hit, how hard to push in the third period when his legs were screaming and the kid across from him was ten years younger and had rocket fuel for blood. He’d built a career on saying no to the things that could wreck him: the third drink, the risky pinch at the blue line, the wrong body in the wrong bed.
And then Lucas Ramirez walked into the Buffalo Blades’ training facility in a fitted team polo that looked like it had been tailored by someone who wanted to ruin lives, and Ryan’s decade of careful decisions went up in smoke before the guy even opened his mouth.
But he was getting ahead of himself.
Pre-season camp at KeyBank Arena always smelled the same — industrial cleaner, cold rubber, and the vaguely human funk of twenty-some hockey players who’d spent the summer pretending they’d stuck to their off-season programs. Ryan breathed it in like church incense as he pushed through the players’ entrance at seven fifteen, a full forty-five minutes before he needed to be there.
He hit the locker room, dropped his bag at his stall — second from the end, same spot for eight years — and started changing with the efficiency of a man who’d done this roughly four thousand times.
“Kells! My guy!”
Dex Marchetti — starting goalie, six-foot-one of unregulated energy, and the closest thing Ryan had to a best friend on the team — materialized beside him and delivered a blow between Ryan’s shoulder blades. “You look tan. Did you actually go outside this summer?”
“I went fishing.”
“Fishing.” Dex sank onto the bench. “You went fishing. While I was in Cabo doing body shots with Instagram models—”
“You were at your parents’ cottage in Lake Placid.”
“—the point is that you need a life, Kells. Speaking of — you hear about the new S and C guy?”
“Apparently he’s young. Like, our age. And Coach’s kid.”
Ryan went back to his laces. Coach Miguel Ramirez was the reason Ryan had an NHL career. If Coach wanted his kid on the staff, Ryan would make it work.
Coach walked in at nine sharp. “Gentlemen. Welcome back. We’ve brought in a new strength and conditioning coach. He also happens to be my son, which I’m telling you now so I don’t have to hear about it in the gossip mill later.”
“Good. Luke?”
And Ryan’s carefully ordered world tilted about fifteen degrees off its axis.
Lucas Ramirez was none of what Ryan had been expecting. He was lean where his father was broad, maybe five-eleven, with a runner’s build that packed more definition than it had any right to at that frame. Dark hair shaved close on the sides, longer on top. Warm brown eyes that scanned the room with calm, assessing focus. A geometric sleeve tattoo covered his left forearm, disappearing under a charcoal team polo that fit across his shoulders like it owed him money.
“Hey. I’m Luke.” His voice was warm and direct, with a slight rasp that landed somewhere in Ryan’s chest and stayed there. “I know some of you are thinking ‘great, Coach’s kid, this’ll be soft.’ I want to clear that up right now: I’m not here because my last name is Ramirez. I’m here because your team ranked twenty-second in the league last year in injuries per player games lost, and I’m going to fix that.”
Ryan was too busy trying to figure out why his pulse had kicked up ten beats per minute to say anything.
Luke got to Ryan last during the baseline assessments.
“Shirt off, please. I need to check your posture and shoulder mechanics.”
Luke circled him slowly. Ryan felt the gaze like a physical thing. “Right shoulder sits about a centimeter higher than your left.” His fingers pressed into Ryan’s trapezius, and Ryan’s jaw clenched so hard his back teeth ached. “You’re carrying tension here like it’s your job.”
Luke’s hands went to his hips, fingers curling around the crests of Ryan’s pelvis. His right thumb shifted, pressing into the hollow just inside Ryan’s hip bone — the crease where thigh met torso — and Ryan’s entire nervous system short-circuited.
Heat flooded his groin. His cock thickened behind his compression shorts with a swiftness that was physically painful.
He stepped back. “We done?”
Luke’s gaze dropped — briefly, so fast that Ryan almost convinced himself it hadn’t happened — and came back up. Something shifted in his expression. Recognition. Understanding.
“The tension you’re carrying in your upper body — it’s not just physical,” Luke said. “Your nervous system is in overdrive. Whatever you’re doing for stress management, it’s not enough.”
“I manage fine.”
Luke’s mouth twitched. “Sure you do.”
Ryan sat in his truck in the players’ parking lot for eleven minutes. He knew it was eleven minutes because he stared at the dashboard clock the entire time, willing his body to stand down.
It didn’t.
He’d been attracted to men before — had always been attracted to men, if he was being honest, which he tried very hard not to be. Once — once — he’d let the box open. Marcus Webb, backup defenseman, eight years ago. Six weeks of frantic, secret, devastating hookups that felt like finally breathing after years underwater. And then Marcus got traded and blocked Ryan’s number, and the water closed back over his head.
That man’s actual son had just had his hands on Ryan’s hips, and Ryan had gotten hard in a room full of his teammates.
“Fuck,” he said to the empty truck.
And at midnight, lying in bed in the dark, he made the mistake of pulling up the staff directory. Lucas Ramirez, M.S., CSCS. Strength & Conditioning Coach.
His hand drifted below the sheets. He caught it, clenched his fist, and rolled onto his side.
Not happening. Not tonight. Not with Coach’s son.
By morning, Ryan had a plan. The plan was simple: treat Lucas Ramirez like any other member of the training staff. Professional. Courteous. Distant.
He pulled into the facility lot at seven-ten the next morning. Through the gym’s ground-floor windows, he could see the weight room was already lit. Luke was inside. Alone. Setting up stations for the day’s session, moving between racks with easy physicality.
Ryan sat in his truck and watched for longer than he’d ever admit to anyone, including himself.
Then he grabbed his bag, killed the engine, and walked inside.
Coach’s son. Off-limits. Not even a question.
He almost believed it.
Want to keep reading? The full novel is available now.
🔥 Want an EXCLUSIVE Bonus Chapter?
The Storage Room — Luke’s POV — A scene TOO HOT for Amazon
The book gives you Ryan’s side of that first explosive encounter. The bonus chapter gives you Luke’s — every thought, every sensation, every filthy detail from the man on his knees. What was Luke thinking when Ryan grabbed him? What did it feel like to take the most controlled man in professional hockey apart with his mouth?
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