Penalty Box Privileges
MM Hockey Romance
by Chase Power
Free with Kindle Unlimited
Pairing: MM
Heat: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Inferno
Tropes: Rivals to Lovers, Age Gap, Forced Proximity, Brat/Tamer, Praise Kink, Teammates to Lovers, Touch Starved
He’s the veteran everyone wrote off. I’m the rookie nobody can control. The league forced us on the same line — but nobody warned us what happens when the fighting stops and the hotel door closes.
Rylan “Rye” Mercer was once the league’s golden boy. Now he’s the veteran nobody wants — traded twice in three years, held together by surgical pins and stubbornness. He’s made peace with being alone. He has not made peace with the cocky rookie who just landed on his line and won’t stop looking at him like he’s something worth chasing.
Luka “Lucky” Velez talks big because he’s scared. He plays reckless because it’s the only way he knows to prove he belongs. And the last thing he needs is a thirty-two-year-old winger with bad knees and a god complex telling him how to play — especially one whose voice makes his entire body go still.
When their on-ice rivalry turns into off-ice obsession, every argument becomes foreplay and every apology becomes a confession. But Rye is terrified of wanting something the league can take away. And Lucky is terrified that the moment he stops performing, the man who calls him good will decide he isn’t worth keeping.
A washed-up veteran. A mouthy rookie. One hotel room. And a season that will either make them partners — or break them apart.
You’ll love this book if you enjoy:
✅ Rivals-to-lovers MM hockey romance with scorching heat
✅ Grumpy veteran x mouthy rookie with a 10-year age gap
✅ Brat/tamer dynamics and praise kink that will wreck you
✅ “We shouldn’t do this” teammate tension
✅ Touch-starved veteran who forgot he’s desirable
✅ Forced proximity on road trips and in locker rooms
✅ Graphic, explicit, emotional MM scenes (🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️)
✅ HEA guaranteed
⚠️ Content Warning: This novel contains explicit sexual content (graphic MM scenes), strong language, sports-related injury, and depictions of anxiety, abandonment trauma, and self-doubt. Intended for readers 18+.
📖 Read Chapter One Free
Not sure yet? Read the full first chapter right here.
Chapter One: New Blood
The weight room at five in the morning smells like rubber and rust and the specific loneliness of a man who doesn’t sleep well anymore.
I wrap my wrists in the dark. Don’t bother with the overhead lights—the emergency exit sign throws enough red glow to see the tape roll, and I’ve done this so many times my hands could manage it blind. Left wrist first. Three wraps, tight, thumb anchor, fold. Right wrist. Same thing.
That was the kind of thing that used to make people say Rylan Mercer is a warrior. Now they say Rylan Mercer is still playing?
I grab the barbell. Two-twenty-five. Not what I used to pull, but my rotator cuff has opinions these days. Deadlift. Slow on the way up. Controlled on the way down. My lower back lights up like a warning signal, that deep ache that lives in the L4-L5 region where ten years of hip checks have compressed the cartilage into something that shows up on MRIs like a weather forecast for pain.
Hartford’s training facility is brand new. State-of-the-art everything. The Hounds spent forty million on this building, and right now I’m the only person in it. That feels about right. The franchise invested in a future. I’m just borrowing the equipment until they figure out what to do with me.
Third team in three years. That’s the stat nobody puts on a highlight reel.
Control. That’s the thing I’m good at. It’s the only thing I’ve got left that nobody can trade away.
Training camp starts at nine. I’m skating in the first group, running neutral zone drills, when the kid walks in.
Duffel bag over one shoulder, earbuds in, snapback turned backward, grinning at the equipment manager like they’re old friends even though he’s been in this city for approximately forty-eight hours. He’s late. He doesn’t seem to care.
He skates well. I’ll give him that. Quick first step, smooth crossovers. He jumps into a passing drill and immediately starts showing off—no-look passes, between-the-legs touches, the kind of flashy bullshit that makes junior hockey scouts wet and professional coaches reach for the antacids.
“Velez, left wing on Mercer’s line.”
Up close, he’s worse than I thought. Not worse as in less talented—worse as in more distracting. Brown eyes so dark they’re almost black, sharp cheekbones, a mouth that seems incapable of settling into a neutral expression.
“Mercer, right? I watched your highlight reel when I got drafted. The hat trick against Chicago in ’19? Filthy.”
“That was six years ago.”
“Yeah, well. Still filthy.”
I don’t know what to do with that. I pull my visor down and skate to the dot.
Want to keep reading? The full novel is available now.
🔥 Want an EXCLUSIVE Bonus Chapter?
Overtime Rules — A scene TOO HOT for Amazon
Six months later. Their apartment. Their ice. Their rules. When Lucky bets Rye he can’t stay quiet, Rye takes the bet — and loses spectacularly. Filthy, funny, and devastatingly in love.
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