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  "description": "Eu REAAAAAALL precisava de mais Heated Rivalry",
  "path": "/heated-rivalry-rachel-reid-2019/",
  "publishedAt": "2026-01-15T22:42:20.000Z",
  "site": "https://cosmoliko.com",
  "tags": [
    "original",
    "os atores da série",
    "Game Changer"
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  "textContent": "⭐ Avaliação\n\nA qualidade da escrita dá um salto do livro anterior para este. A obsessão da autora por lubrificantes diminui. O sexo e o romance estão mais equilibrados. Eu escolhi passar pano para a fetichização para curtir a história, que é linda, mas com o cuidado de lembrar que é só uma história muito distante da realidade e que as mulheres para quem esse livro foi escrito não são aliadas LGBTQ. Acho que, se não tomarmos esses cuidados, é fácil romantizar o impossível e tornar nossas vidas reais mais solitárias. Ah, sim, eu amei o livro.\n\n* * *\n\n## Páginas lidas por dia\n\n* * *\n\n## Destaques e Anotações\n\n  * Novamente, não sei qual capa é mais **marcante** , essa ou a original. Não tive coragem de colar a capa original na estante, mas minha vontade mesmo era de colocar a versão atualizada com os atores da série, Hudson Williams (Shane) e Connor Storrie (Ilya Rozanov). Quem sabe eu troco.\n\n\n\n* * *\n\n**Primeira frase:**\n\n> October 2016 — Montreal\n> Shane Hollander was as close to losing it as he ever allowed himself to get.\n\n* * *\n\n  * É absurda a diferença na qualidade da escrita do primeiro (Game Changer) para esse. O narrador do livro anterior era uma desgraça. Agora consigo acreditar que existe uma história bem contada quando os jogadores de hockey não estão transando.\n\n\n\n* * *\n\n> “Don't worry, Hollander,\" Rozanov said, his lips brushing Shane's ear, \"I am going to fuck you like you want, yes?\" \"Yes,\" Shane exhaled, a mixture of relief and humiliation sweeping through him.\n\n**_Mal posso esperar por mais putaria._**\n\n* * *\n\n**_Lá vem mais lubrificante. Sério, Rachel Reid não consegue escrever uma única cena de sexo gay sem lubrificante?_**\n\n* * *\n\n  * Achei interessante o prólogo do livro, que felizmente a série ignorou. Estou muito, muito curioso para perceber as diferenças entre o livro e a série.\n\n\n\n* * *\n\n> Rozanov worked his talented mouth on Shane’s cock, and Shane tossed the lube down the bed from the well-stocked nightstand. Rozanov took it without pausing what he was doing, and poured some on his fingers so he could get to work opening Shane up.\n\n**_La vem mais lubrificante_**\n\n* * *\n\n> What the fuck was that? He had never... Jesus Christ, he had a girlfriend. He wasn't... A girlfriend you are hoping will break up with you. She didn't even come on this trip to see you get drafted. Well, that was true. But she had just started a new summer job... And you haven't thought about her all day until right now. You haven't even called her yet. Yeah, all right. Maybe it wasn't really working out with her, but it wasn't like she was the only girl he'd ever... done stuff with. You're half hard right now. From sitting on the gym floor with another man. Okay, that one he couldn't explain.\n\n**_Entao no livro ele tem uma namorada_**\n\n* * *\n\n> For the rest of his life, Shane Hollander would have to live with the fact that he had ended his NHL draft day by getting himself off to thoughts of Ilya Rozanov.\n\n**_Amei_**\n\n* * *\n\n> But it's not like he wasn't into girls. Girls were very into him, and they were throwing themselves at him now that he was about to become a millionaire superstar. So, yeah, he'd been hooking up with girls. Plenty of girls. Like, at least two girls. Since breaking up with his girlfriend. Not, like, all-the-way sex. But sex stuff. He had definitely been blown by two different girls since July. And he had enjoyed it. With his head tilted back. And his eyes closed. And he hadn't thought about Ilya Rozanov's dark, wet lips or his crooked smile at all.\n\n**_Shane e as mulheres_**\n\n* * *\n\n> But Rozanov let a hand trail down his stomach and wrapped it around his own dick to give it a slow, firm stroke. Shane gasped. Loud enough that the running water couldn't mask it. \"What were you thinking about?\" Rozanov asked, his voice low. Shane swallowed. His throat was bone dry. \"You,\" he said quietly. Rozanov heard him, and smirked. He gave himself another stroke. \"You want to touch me, Hollander?\" Shane actually just wanted to watch Rozanov jerk himself off. But... \"Not here,\" Shane stammered. \"Someone could come in.\" Rozanov nodded and released himself. He turned and shut off the water. Shane waited, heart racing, until Rozanov had left the showers before he turned off his own water. What the hell was happening? Rozanov couldn't possibly be suggesting that he and Shane... that they...\n\n**_Amei a cena do chuveiro!_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"What is your room number?\" Rozanov asked. \"Fourteen ten,\" Shane said, far too quickly. Rozanov's mouth twitched up. **\"If I knock on door of room 1410 tonight... maybe around nine?\"** Shane fought to keep his voice even. \"I might open the door.\" Rozanov smiled. \"I might knock.\"\n\n* * *\n\n> He brought his mouth down on Shane's, and Shane flooded with panic. He was stiff against Rozanov, lips pressed together, eyes open. But Rozanov persisted. Shane felt the tip of Rozanov's tongue trace the outline of his lips, seeking entry. Long fingers threaded into his hair, and Shane surrendered. He parted his lips and closed his eyes, and Rozanov deepened the kiss, pushing between his lips and pressing his tongue to Shane's. Shane had never kissed a man, and somewhere in the back of his splintering brain he wondered if Rozanov ever had either. He certainly seemed to know what he was doing.\n\n**_O primeiro beijo gay do Shane_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"Relax,\" Rozanov said, and kissed him again. His hand stroked Shane carefully, without lube, and Shane was spellbound. Rozanov's soft, accented words and his gentle hands and his confident kisses were all working together to ensnare him.\n\n**_Finalmente uma cena sem lubrificante! Será que ensinaram a Rachel?_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"Okay. Well. Good night,\" Rozanov said, and moved to get up.\n\n**_Kkkkkkk fdp_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"You think I'm an asshole,\" Rozanov said. \"You are an asshole.\" \"I would not leave you like that.\" \"No?\" He kissed him again. \"No.\"\n\n**_< 3_**\n\n* * *\n\n> That event ended up being the shot accuracy competition. Rozanov went first. The net had four foam bull's-eye targets—one in each corner—fastened to the goalposts. When the timer started, the object was to break all four targets with shots from the blue line as fast as possible. The league record was about seven seconds. When the whistle blew, Rozanov wasted no time. He broke the top two targets with the first two shots, then missed the next one, then cleanly broke the bottom two targets with his fourth and fifth shots. Eight seconds. Shane shook his head and watched Rozanov play to the crowd. Rozanov skated around the ice holding his stick like a rifle, celebrating his skills by pretending to shoot at the rafters.\n\n**_Diferente da série_**\n\n* * *\n\n> He could feel Hollander tense up. He was completely silent now. Ilya pulled his mouth off him and looked up at his face. \"Have you ever?\" Ilya asked. Hollander shook his head. \"Would you like to?\" \"I don't know.\" \"You are scared.\" \"No! No, I'm not scared.\" \"Is okay to be.\" Hollander exhaled loudly. \"I'm not scared,\" he said again. \"Have you ever touched yourself,\" Ilya asked, circling his finger again, \"here?\" Hollander's face flushed bright red, and Ilya grinned. \"Jesus Christ,\" Hollander muttered. \"You are embarrassed.\" \"Well!\" \"You don't play with your ass? It makes you gay?\" \"Oh my fucking god...\" \"You know what makes you gayer?\" \"Rozanov... shut the fuck—\" \"Sucking my dick. You were doing that a minute ago.\" Hollander sat up. \"I've played with it, all right? I've—I've got a... thing.\" \"A thing?\" \"A dildo! Okay?\" **Ilya grinned so hard it hurt. \"What color?\"** \"Fuck you!\" \"Is it big?\" \"I'm leaving.\"\n\n**_HAHAHA Sério, a qualidade disso aqui tá muito bom_**\n\n* * *\n\n> Ilya bit his own lip and gave up teasing his rival. For now. He reached for Hollander and they brought each other off frantically and roughly in the shower, letting the rush of water muffle their English and Russian profanity. Hollander got dressed quickly when they were done.\n\n**_Olha só, sem conteúdo explicito_**\n\n* * *\n\n> Ilya would be lying if he said Hollander had the most talented mouth that had ever been wrapped around his dick. But he was so... eager to please. So determined to be good at this. For Ilya.\n\n* * *\n\n> \"Been dreaming of the Olympics my whole life,\" Hollander said. \"I can't wait.\" \"For what? A bronze medal?\" \"Fuck you.\" Ilya laughed. \"Hey, remember when you shot your load for like no reason at all?\" Hollander glared at him, but Ilya could tell he was trying not to laugh. \"Oh my god. Go to hell.\" \"Amazing trick.\" \"Your cab must be out there, right?\" Ilya put his hand on the door, but before he pushed it open, he leaned down and kissed Hollander quickly on the mouth. \"Good night, Hollander.\" \"Good night.\" Ilya was grinning like an idiot for the entire cab ride back to his hotel.\n\n**_Ahhh fofo_**\n\n* * *\n\n> Shane had had no idea what to expect before he'd arrived in Sochi. He'd never been to Russia before, and he wasn't sure this over-the-top spectacle was the best representation of Rozanov's homeland. He found himself wondering, often, about the pressure Rozanov was feeling. Being in the Olympics at all was thrilling and stressful enough for Shane without it being in his country. \"What's up, guys?\" he said as Carter and Scott caught up with him. \"Did you know there was going to be a beach here? What the fuck is this place, right?\" Carter laughed. \"No! There are fucking palm trees here! I thought Russia in the winter would be, like, cold.\" **\"Congrats on your win last night,\" Scott said. Scott was a super nice guy.** Carter was nice too, but Scott was, like, **an angel who was really good at playing hockey. He looked like an angel: blond hair and blue eyes and built like a Navy SEAL who was also a model and maybe also a firefighter.** \"Thanks. It was a pretty easy win, but I'll take it.\"\n\n**_Sccooooottttt_**\n\n* * *\n\n> Scott's face lit up. \"Yeah? That would be cool. I saw the men's figure skating short program is tonight too.\" \"Oh, right. That's probably going to be packed.\" \"Those fucking guys are brave to be here, you know?\" \"Brave?\" Scott asked. Carter lowered his voice and glanced around the beach. **\"Yeah, like... because of the gay thing, right? Some of those guys are risking their lives for real here. Brave as hell.\" \"Right,\" Scott said.** He turned his gaze to the ocean. Shane knew about Russia's laws against homosexuality, but he'd been trying not to think too much about stuff like that. He just wanted to enjoy the Olympics, win the gold medal, and go home. But now he was thinking about Dev, a guy he'd trained with a bit from Ottawa who was on the men's speed skating team, and who Shane knew was gay. He was here. Was he terrified? He must be.\n\n**_Gays corajosos_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"I am a better player now than I have ever been. The team just hasn't been working well together.\" Wrong thing to say. \"You are the captain, are you not? Whose fault is it if the team isn't working together?\" The coach? Instead of saying anything, Ilya looked at the floor and waited for his father to change the subject. Grigori stepped closer, setting his vodka on a table, and began to needlessly adjust Ilya's bowtie. \"Aagh. Who tied this for you? Your mother? She doesn't know how to do this properly.\" Ilya froze. His breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed hard before saying, as evenly as possible, **\"No, Father. Mom is dead. Remember?\"** And then Grigori froze, and Ilya could see the confusion in his eyes before he blinked and shook his head. \"Yes, of course. I know that. I was thinking of your stepmother.\" \"And where is Polina tonight?\" Ilya asked, ignoring his father's obvious lie.\n\n**_Tudo igual! As cenas tudo_**\n\n* * *\n\n> But obviously Shane wasn't going to hug him here, so he just nodded and walked away. He didn't really have time to think about Rozanov anyway; Canada was going to be playing in the quarter-finals the following evening against either America or, if Finland lost this game, Sweden. Rozanov, and his team, was done. And Shane knew that had to feel awful. Team Russia had just been... terrible. It wasn't Rozanov's fault, but Shane knew he would be beating himself up about it. Hell, Shane would be beating himself up, if it were his team.\n\n**_Pesquisar os jogos reais_**\n\n* * *\n\n> Rozanov had won. Of course he had won. And now Shane had to find out what exactly he wanted from him. They had done... everything? Shane was pretty sure they'd done everything at this point. Blow jobs: check. Hand jobs: of course. Fucking: yes, but only with Shane bottoming. Shane couldn't see Rozanov wanting to change that up. He hoped not, anyway.\n\n**_Não fez cunete, não passou cheque, não teve golden shower, nem chemsex, não rolou marmita, nem outdoor, e eu posso continuar por várias linhas. Oh Shane, tá transando pela quarta vez e acha que já fez tudo._**\n\n* * *\n\n> His ears were still ringing with his own orgasm when he felt Rozanov freeze behind him and cry out. And then Rozanov's forehead was pressed against Shane's back as both men struggled to catch their breath. \"Jesus, Hollander,\" Rozanov panted as he flopped to his back beside him. **His hair had fallen out of its little ponytail and was clinging to his forehead in a damp swoop.**\n\n**_Rabo de cavalo??? Ah não, vou ignorar essa informação._**\n\n* * *\n\n> He sat on the bench next to Brad Hammersmith. Brad was a veteran forward. He was also about a hundred years old. \"Making friends?\" Hammersmith asked. \"I'm playing hockey.\"\n\n**_Nao gostam dos velhos_**\n\n* * *\n\n> A Philadelphia defenseman skated by the bench when the play had stopped. \"Keep it up and see what happens, Rozanov,\" he threatened. \"I know what will happen. My team will win.\" \"Suck my dick, Rozanov.\" Be the best blow job of your life, sweetheart. Ilya winked at him. \"Faggot,\" the other player grumbled. Ilya shrugged. It was half true. Maybe, like, thirty percent true.\n\n**_O nivel de bissexualidade dele_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"Jackie is pregnant.\" Shane stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the Gulf of Saint Lawrence ecosystem at the Montreal Biodome. **\"Again?\" he said. Hayden laughed. \"Jesus, thanks.\" \"Sorry! I mean, congratulations.\"** Hayden shot him an amused look. \"Yeah, you sound super happy for me.\" Shane gestured to the stroller Hayden was pushing his one-year-old son in, and then toward the twin three-year-old girls who were peering into a touch tank. \"Well, I mean...\" \"Yeah,\" Hayden sighed. \"I know. But Jackie's happy. I mean... she's fucking bored, right?\"\n\n**_Tudo na série veio mesmo do livro_**\n\n* * *\n\n> The facts were these: they were two of the biggest hockey stars in the world, and for whatever reason, they both enjoyed fucking each other. The other thing they were in total agreement on is that no one could ever know that they enjoyed fucking each other. It would be best if no one knew that they liked to fuck men at all, but it definitely couldn't get out that the superstar rivals were very familiar with each other's dicks.\n\n**_Soando repetitivo_**\n\n* * *\n\n> When Shane's orgasm hit him, it was hard and sudden. His release seemed endless, splashing his chest and even up to his throat. \"Yes, sweetheart,\" Rozanov panted, and Shane didn't even have a chance to be shocked by the pet name before Rozanov was coming too. When it was over, he dropped to his elbows over Shane and kissed him messily.\n\n**_Ah la o \"sweetheart\" voltando a dar o ar da graça no vocabulário_**\n\n* * *\n\n> But Rozanov was lounging on his bed and he patted the mattress next to him, so Shane went. He lay on his back beside Rozanov, not touching him, and stared at the ceiling until Rozanov rolled to his side, propped on an elbow, and gazed down at him. Shane felt the same anxiety that had flooded him the last time they had been together. There was something a little too... tender... in the way Rozanov was looking at him. And there was something that was far too soothing about the way Rozanov's fingers combed through Shane's short hair, and curved down to trace the bridge of freckles that stretched across his face. Shane had always hated his freckles. He had been surprised to learn, when he had become famous, that a lot of women seemed to find them very sexy. Or at least they found them adorable. He was even more surprised that Rozanov seemed to hold some sort of fascination with them.\n\n**_Fofo_**\n\n* * *\n\n> Resting against Rozanov like this, in his home, watching hockey, full of the food he had just made him... this was exactly what they weren't supposed to be doing. This was what couples did. But Rozanov's chest was so warm and solid, and Shane could hear his heart beating where his ear was pressed against it. Rozanov's fingers were idly playing with his hair, making Shane sleepy and unreasonably happy.\n\n**_Serio gente_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"Wait.\" Rozanov grabbed Shane's wrist and stopped his furious stroking. He pulled Shane's hand to his face and spit in his hand. Which was gross. But instead of making a face or bitching at him about it, Shane found it absurdly arousing. The saliva didn't add a ton of lubrication, but by then Shane's cock was leaking enough to make up for it.\n\n**_finalmente saliva nesses livros!!!_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"It's a little different here in the winter.\" She leaned it and said, in a hushed tone that was playfully conspiratorial, \"Michigan, remember? Winter can't scare me.\" Something fluttery happened in his stomach. He felt his cheeks heat a bit, and then he asked, as smoothly as possible, \"So, you gonna be in town for a while this time?\" Her smile let him know she knew exactly what he was really asking. At the end of the night, they exchanged contact info, and made loose plans to meet for dinner whenever both of their schedules permitted. Shane left the restaurant with a little spring in his step. It had easily been the best connection he had made with a woman... ever. He liked Rose. He wanted to get to know her better. He was excited by the idea of spending more time with her.\n\n**_Rose é mais facil aceitar como real_**\n\n* * *\n\n> Hayley, he thought to himself. He would text Hayley and see if she was doing anything tonight. He liked Hayley. She was fun, and she had dark hair. And freckles.\n\n**_A série deu mais espaço para os amigos russos_**\n\n* * *\n\n> Ilya pulled away from the kiss and smiled at his very willing partner. She was a good kisser. She had a tongue piercing. He liked that. He glanced around the club, wondering where the best dark corner was to—Holy fuck. When his gaze landed on Shane Hollander, Shane's eyes went wide. Had Shane just been... watching him? Ilya couldn't resist pushing it. He gave him what he believed to be his sexiest smile, and bent down to whisper in the girl's ear. \"Should we take this somewhere else?\" He never took his eyes off Shane. \"Sorry,\" she said, surprising him. \"Not tonight, babe. I'm here with my boyfriend. He likes to watch me. It turns him on. But I'm leaving with him.\"\n\n**_A garota_**\n\n* * *\n\n> The fuck? \"Your... boyfriend?\" He looked around nervously. She laughed. \"Relax. He's not gonna hit you. He likes it, like I said.\" She kissed his cheek, turned, and left him. And Shane was gone. Furious, and now even more desperately in need of release than he had been before he'd left the hotel, Ilya stormed off the dance floor and grabbed Victor by the arm. \"I'm leaving.\"\n\n**_Na série é mais legal essa parte, menos o Miles_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"We just... aren't supposed to fit together. And that's fine. But we can't keep trying.\" Shane nodded. **\"For the record, I'm not sure that I'm... like Miles, exactly.\"** When he met her eyes, she smiled. \"Well, it's nothing that you need to figure out today.\" She took a sip of her wine, possibly for courage, because the next words out of her mouth were, \"Have you ever been with a man?\" For whatever reason, Shane didn't feel like lying. He'd made it this far. \"Yes.\" \"And? Was it different?\" \"Of course.\" \"I mean... was it better?\" Shane's memory supplied him with flashes of golden brown curls and sparkling hazel eyes and a playful smile and hard muscles and of strong hands holding him down as he was entered and filled and... \"Yeah,\" Shane said softly. \"Yeah. It was better.\" He cleared his throat. \"**The thing is... I kind of prefer to be the hole. Than the peg.\"** \"Ha!\" Rose threw her head back in delight. Shane laughed too. He felt lighter, suddenly. Later, before they left the bar, Rose gave him a mischievous look over the rim of her wineglass and said, \"So... should I give Miles your number?\" \"No. Thank you, but no. I need to... figure some stuff out.\"\n\n**_A versão da serie é ESTUPIDAMENTE melhor_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"He's a beautiful skater. Such talented hands. And so cute.\" \"Now you are trying to make me angry.\" \"You can't argue those facts, Ilya.\" \"No,\" Ilya said, grinding the butt of his cigarette into a small plate he was using as a makeshift ashtray. \"I can't argue them. He is very good.\" \"And cute.\" \"If you say so.\" She pulled her knees to her chest. \"Are we going to fuck again, or should I get dressed? I'm cold.\"\n\n**_Muito mais legal na série_**\n\n* * *\n\n> A fucking nightclub! If he couldn't be safe from Hollander there, then where?\n\n* * *\n\n> Not that they had ever regularly contacted each other before, but this silence had been particularly deafening. The past few weeks had been the first time that Ilya felt sure that, if he texted him, Shane wouldn't reply. Shane would probably show the text to his movie star girlfriend, and they would laugh at how pathetic Ilya was.\n\n**_Outra coisa sobre a vida real: eles trocariam memes de hockey desde sempre_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"I looked up the word,\" Ilya said. \"Compatible.\" \"What?\" \"I thought I knew what it meant. But I wanted to check.\" Shane thought for a moment, then realized what Ilya was referring to. \"Oh.\"\n\n**_Fooofo_**\n\n* * *\n\n> February 2017—Montreal Two weeks after All-Star weekend, Shane received a text from \"Lily.\" Can you believe that shit with Zullo? Frank Zullo was a defenseman for the New York Admirals who was known to be a hot mess.\n\n**_Olha o zullo aí_**\n\n* * *\n\n> This was new. He wondered why they hadn't thought to do this before: talk to each other about hockey, even if it was mostly gossip. In the past they had only texted each other to discreetly arrange their hookups.\n\n**_Falei dos memes_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"Is it... is your dad...\" Ilya sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand over his face. \"My father is dying. But that is not the problem.\" \"Oh.\" \"It is Polina. My stepmother. She is...\" He twisted his hand around in the air, searching for the word. \"Sad?\" Shane guessed. Ilya laughed darkly. \"No. She is... planning. For her future. My father does not have any money left.\" \"Oh.\" \"She has been calling me.\" \"Ah.\" Shane understood now. \"She wants money. They all want money. My brother. My father before he...\" Shane reached over and took Ilya's hand. \"Will you give them any?\" \"I already have. Plenty of it. They want more.\" He laughed again. \"They don't give a shit about me or my career. They just know I make a lot of money.\" \"I'm sorry.\" Shane brushed a thumb over Ilya's knuckles. \"The last time I talked to my father on the phone was a couple of weeks ago. He asked if I could pick up some bread on the way home.\"\n\n**_Na serie ficou melhor_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"I wish... I wanted him to... I don't know.\" He sighed again. \"English is too hard today.\" \"I'm sorry. I wish I spoke Russian.\" \"You could probably learn it in a week,\" Ilya grumbled. \"Perfect. No accent.\"\n\n**_Amo_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"Tell me everything you want to say,\" he said. **\"In Russian. I won't understand but... maybe it will help?\"** There was a silence that was long enough for Shane to physically cringe at himself. He was about to take it back, when he heard Ilya quietly say, **\"Okay.\" The next several minutes were filled with Ilya's voice, sounding more animated and flustered than Shane had ever heard him.** He was used to Ilya saying more with a teasing smile or a calculating look than with actual words. But now it was like a dam had burst, and Shane sat himself on the stairs and let it wash over him.\n\n**_Aaaahhhhhhhhhh T_T_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"Maybe you could teach me Russian someday.\" \"Only useful phrases,\" Ilya said. Shane could practically hear his crooked smile. Then Ilya purred something in Russian. \"What does that mean?\" Shane asked. \"Get on your knees.\" \"Oh.\" Shane quickly scanned the stairwell again to make sure he was still alone. He was already more aroused than he should be after listening to Ilya pour his heart out. \"And what other useful phrases could you teach me?\" Ilya laughed. \"I can think of many, Hollander.\" Shane shifted on the stairs. \"I wish you were here now.\" Shane couldn't believe he had actually allowed himself to say that out loud. They didn't wish to be together. They reluctantly hooked up when they were in the same city because it was something to do. He felt his mortification melt away when Ilya said, in a low voice, \"Me too.\"\n\n**_Na serie é tão melhor haha_**\n\n* * *\n\n> Something occurred to Ilya after he ended the call with Shane: maybe Shane had recorded that call and was going to run it through some sort of translating app later. But Shane wouldn't do that, would he?\n\n**_Mano_**\n\n* * *\n\n> Mostly he had just been ranting about his family, but he had included an admission that he wished things could have been different with his father. That he had stupidly always hoped that his father might tell him that he was proud of him. **That admission would have been embarrassing enough, but Ilya had also slipped in an \"and on top of everything, I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you and I don't know what to do about it.\"** It was saying those words out loud, even more than venting his frustrations about his family, that had truly made Ilya feel lighter. It was a secret he had been carrying for far too long, locked away so deep inside that he had even been keeping it from himself. But as soon as he let himself acknowledge it, and now say it, he felt relieved. Not because he could do anything about these feelings, but at least he had allowed himself to accept them. And he had, in the most cowardly way possible, said them aloud to Shane.\n\n**_Podia estar tão melhor escrito_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"I love beating everyone, but yes. You the most.\" \"Why?\" Ilya shrugged. \"Because you are the best.\" \"I'm not. What about Scott Hunter? You like to beat him too. You're always talking shit about that guy.\" Ilya waved a hand dismissively. **\"Hunter is a million years old and he's terrible this year.\" \"He's like three years older than us, and he's been on fire lately.\"**\n\n**_3 anos?? Scott tem 30??_**\n\n* * *\n\n> Shane's eyes fluttered closed and Ilya knew he was touching himself again. And Shane had been right—this was better. Watching Shane's face so closely as he pleasured himself was far more intimate than if Ilya had been watching his hand on his cock. Not being able to see what Shane was doing to make himself sigh and moan was intensely arousing. \"You are very beautiful,\" Ilya said. Shane smiled without opening his eyes. \"Come on.\" \"Is the truth. Your freckles.\" Ilya grazed a fingertip over his own cheek. \"I am nuts about them.\" \"I have no idea why. I hate them.\" \"Noooo...\" Ilya moaned. \"Hollander. They are stunning.\" \"Stunning?\" \"Yes. Am I not using that word right? Very beautiful. Um... take my breath?\" \"Wow. All right.\" The skin under Shane's freckles turned very, very pink. \"The first time I met you. Those freckles...\" \"The first time? You mean at the World Juniors? In Saskatchewan?\" \"Yes.\" Shane huffed out a surprised laugh. \"You were such a dick to me.\" \"Mm. I did not like you. Just your freckles.\" Shane shook his head a little on the pillow. \"Thanks, I guess.\" \"I told you...\" Ilya grinned. \"You love praise.\"\n\n**_Sardas_**\n\n* * *\n\n> Ilya decided the only way to get this information out of Shane was to make it sexy. \"Did you go to a bar? Did you see someone you could not resist?\" \"I went—fuck—I went to Mexico with Hayden and a couple of the other guys. A few—ah, god—years ago. We went out one night and, yeah, I was terrified but... fuck, it had been so long.\" \"You don't let yourself have release enough, Hollander. I don't know how you do it.\" Shane laughed, a little darkly. \"I haven't come since I saw you last, you know that?\" Ilya inhaled sharply and sped up his hand. It occurred to him that he hadn't had an orgasm in a couple of days himself, which was an epic drought for him. \"Tell me about this man in Mexico.\" \"There's not much to tell. He was big. He looked like he was, y'know, what I was looking for.\" \"A big, strong top?\" Shane looked so embarrassed, Ilya took pity. \"Was he? What you needed?\" \"No. I mean, sort of. But...\" \"Did he hurt you?\" \"No. He just wasn't...\" Ilya needed to hear it. \"Wasn't what?\" Shane clenched his eyes shut and said, **\"You. He wasn't you.\"**\n\n**_Cara do mexico_**\n\n* * *\n\n> Ilya reached for the remote, and was about to turn off the television when... **Holy shit. Holy. Shit. Scott fucking Hunter was kissing a man.** Not, like, one of his teammates on the cheek in an \"I love you, bro\" kind of way. Scott Hunter was kissing a man wearing street clothes full on the fucking mouth. It looked like tongues were involved.\n\n**_É Mt mais emocionante na serie_**\n\n* * *\n\n> But there Hunter was, smiling at this mystery man like he was the only thing that mattered in the world. And holding his face as he leaned in to kiss him again. Ilya felt like he was watching all the worst things about his life getting sucked up by a tornado. Then the cameras cut away, and Ilya looked at his phone. Jane: What is happening??!!! Did he really just do that???!!! Ilya stabbed the call button. There was only one ring before, \"Holy shit, Ilya! Can you belie—\" \"I'm coming to the cottage.\"\n\n**_Im coming to the cottage T_T_**\n\n* * *\n\n> They hadn't been together for months. The ridiculous thing was, Ilya hadn't been with anyone in all that time. For the first time in his life, he hadn't wanted to be with anyone else.\n\n**_As crianças querem acreditar no conto_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"Fuck,\" Shane panted. \"I'm... it's been kind of a while... I might not last long.\" \"Yes. Same. But we have two weeks, right?\" Shane laughed. \"Right.\" Then, \"Wait... same?\" \"Hm?\" \"You said 'same.' You haven't... been with anyone? Lately?\" Ilya grimaced. He probably shouldn't have admitted that. But... \"No.\" \"Like, not since—?\" \"No. Not since. Can we please get back to—?\" \"Really?\" Shane pulled back so he could look Ilya directly in the eyes. He looked stunned and way, way too happy. \"Is not a big deal, Hollander. Relax.\" \"It's been, like—\" \"Months. Yes. Which is why I would really like to—\" \"I haven't either,\" Shane said quickly. \"Not since the last time we were together. In Boston.\" \"Well then...\" Ilya said, moving his hand to continue to work his way into Shane's pants. But Shane didn't go back to grinding his hips or attacking Ilya's mouth with filthy desperate kisses. Instead, he reached up and gently brushed a lock of hair out of Ilya's face. Ilya could only stare, mesmerized, at Shane's face as he looked down at him with so much... tenderness.\n\n**_Kkkk_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"I didn't tell you,\" Ilya said, \"about after the NHL Awards.\" \"After?\" \"Yes. I went out. With Scott Hunter.\" Shane missed the next pass. \"What do you mean?\" \"There was a club having a Scott Hunter night, whatever the fuck that means.\" \"A club? Like...\" \"A gay club. Yes. So I thought I would go.\" \"I'm sorry. You went to a gay club in Las Vegas with Scott Hunter?\" \"And his boyfriend. Yes. Nice guy.\" Shane's brow pinched. \"Why didn't you tell me this before?\" Ilya shrugged. \"I forgot.\" Which wasn't true at all. He just wanted to see this exact expression on Shane's face. Ilya privately thought of it as his \"scrunched confusion\" face. \"Was it... what was it like?\" \"Was fine. A little boring but, you know, Scott Hunter. What can you expect?\"\n\n**_Ahh mais uma do primeiro livro_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"Gorgeous,\" Ilya sighed between kisses. The word, in his accent, was dark and lush. It slid over Shane's skin, and in that moment he felt gorgeous. Ilya reached the base of Shane's spine, and Shane expected him to pull away, maybe grab the lube. But instead, Ilya did something he had never done before: he kept going. His tongue slipped into the crease of Shane's ass as his big hands pulled his cheeks apart. Shane held his breath. He couldn't believe Ilya was actually going to—\"Oh, god. Ilya.\" Shane felt the wet heat of Ilya's tongue lapping at his hole and he had never experienced anything like it. It was impossibly intimate. It was so bold and fearless and so... Ilya. His tongue paused a moment, and Ilya said, \"Good?\" \"Fucking great.\"\n\n**_Finalmente_**\n\n* * *\n\n> Shane tilted his chin up for a kiss before he remembered where Ilya's mouth had just been. Did he care? No. He leaned up and kissed him, and he didn't really taste much of anything. It was just the familiar heat of Ilya's mouth on his.\n\n**_Ata_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"An accident?\" Shane asked. His hand was on Ilya's arm now, squeezing him through the sleeve of his hooded sweatshirt. \"Yes,\" Ilya said, with a tight, humorless smile. \"She accidentally swallowed a whole bottle of pills. Oops.\" He felt Shane's body tense. He was sure Shane couldn't even imagine such a thing. Not in his perfect little family. \"Ilya,\" he said softly. \"I'm so sorry.\" Ilya pursed his lips and shook his head. The fire was looking very blurry now. \"How old were you?\" Shane asked. \"Twelve.\" And then, somehow, words scraped their way out of Ilya's throat that he had never shared with anyone before. \"I found her.\" His voice broke on the last word, and Shane was on his feet, hauling Ilya up with him. Shane engulfed him in his arms and held him tight, letting Ilya bury his face on his shoulder. \"I don't want you to think she was weak,\" Ilya said. \"She wasn't. She was... amazing. But she was so sad. And my father was so hard on her and...\"\n\n**_#suicídio_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"And you'd be in Canada. And you could apply for citizenship eventually.\" \"Yes. I understand that part.\" \"And maybe... someday. When we both retire. We can... be together. For real.\" Ilya looked stunned by that part. \"You really think that far ahead, Hollander?\" \"I do about this.\" \"You want that? To be together?\" \"I do. So much it terrifies me.\" Ilya turned his face away from Shane, and was silent. Cold dread flooded Shane's stomach; he had admitted too much. But Ilya turned back and quickly rolled on top of Shane and was kissing him and kissing him and kept murmuring the same thing in Russian over and over again until he pulled back and translated: \"I love you.\" Shane froze. And then Ilya froze. \"Holy shit,\" Shane whispered. It wasn't how he had meant to respond. \"I...\" Ilya's eyes were so wide and so scared. \"I love you too,\" Shane said. Ilya gave a shaky smile and exhaled. \"Thank Christ.\" \"Does it... does it feel like agony for you too?\" Ilya started to nod, then stopped. He shook his head slowly instead. \"Not anymore.\"\n\n**_Parte do eu te amo_**\n\n* * *\n\n> Shane was just about to step through the sliding glass doors when Ilya grabbed his wrist and tugged him back toward him. \"Is it okay if I tell you I love you again?\" Ilya asked. His crooked smile was adorably shy. Shane smiled back. Hell, he probably beamed back. \"It's okay.\" Instead of saying the words, Ilya kissed him. It was slow and deliberate, his tongue pressing against Shane's own, his fingers resting delicately on Shane's waist. Shane felt like his legs might give out on him. He made a contented little noise and stepped in even closer, so he could feel Ilya pressed against every inch of him. His hands slid over the lake-cooled skin on Ilya's back, eventually finding their way into his damp hair. Ilya huffed and tilted Shane's head back, kissing him deeper and more possessively. Shane felt dizzy with happiness. To be held like this and kissed like this by the man he loved—the man who loved him back—here at the place he loved more than anywhere else in the world... They both heard a noise. They both whipped their heads around. They both saw Shane's dad standing inside the house, staring, frozen, at where they were wrapped up in each other on the deck.\n\n**_E o papai chegou_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"Dad, it's okay. I'm sorry. You... shouldn't have found out that way.\" \"Found out what, exactly?\" Mom asked. Her eyes were locked on Ilya, just over Shane's shoulder. \"Well, I... I'm gay. Which I was going to tell you. Soon. I just... sorry. I wish I'd told you.\" His parents didn't say anything. They were both looking at Ilya like he was a mountain lion that was about to attack. \"Um, and this is... Ilya. Rozanov. You probably know that.\" \"Hi,\" Ilya said. \"And he's been... visiting. He's... we're, um...\" What were they, exactly? It occurred to Shane that he and Ilya hadn't even figured out what label they were comfortable with. \"Lovers,\" Ilya offered. Fuck, way to choose the grossest possible word, Ilya. Well, there was no going back from that word.\n\n**_Na serie essa parte é mais legal. Lovers_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"I will say that, what Scott did, when he, um, kissed his boyfriend?\" Shane couldn't believe he was saying this. He hadn't even told Ilya this. \"That changed something inside me. It was... huge. It made me... want to try. Made me want to be braver, and to let myself try to be happy.\"\n\n**_Lindo_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"Are you okay?\" Shane inhaled and exhaled slowly, keeping his head down. Ilya's hand moved to Shane's knee as he crouched beside him, seeking his eyes. \"Shane?\" \"I'm okay,\" Shane said weakly. \"I'm just... freaking out. Don't worry about me.\" Ilya took his hands and rubbed his thumbs soothingly over the backs of them. \"We are good here, yes?\" he said. \"Your family is here. And your boyfriend. And we are okay here.\" Shane raised his head slightly. \"Boyfriend?\" Such a ridiculous word. Such a ridiculous, wonderful word. Ilya shrugged and grinned. \"I think, yes?\" \"Yes.\" It was really too bad they were in his parents' living room, and that his parents were definitely staring at them, because Shane wanted to jump into Ilya's lap and kiss him into the floor. \"Since their rookie season,\" Shane heard his mother say. \"I can't believe it.\" \"Looking at them now, I kind of can,\" his father said.\n\n**_Boyfriends_**\n\n* * *\n\n> He wanted to fuck Shane. Right here on the deck. But that would require stopping so he could go inside to grab lube and a condom. Stopping was unappealing.\n\n**_Naaaaaaao é possivel que os caras nao transem no seco_**\n\n* * *\n\n> \"And when I retire,\" Ilya said, \"after I have won twelve Stanley Cups and thirteen MVP awards—\" \"The hell you will.\" \"And you have been retired for, like, eight years already because you got very bad at hockey...\" Shane laughed. \"Okay.\" \"Then I will bring you to that dock out there. I will have hundreds of candles all over it...\" \"That sounds like a fire hazard.\" \"Is on the water, Hollander. Fucking relax. Will be beautiful, you will love it. The candles. The lake. The full moon.\" \"Oh, is it a clear night?\" \"Yes. Of course. And I will get on one knee—\" \"Ilya—\" \"And I will say, 'Shane Hollander, will you please marry me so I can become Canadian citizen faster?'\" Shane burst out laughing, and shoved him. \"You're such an asshole.\" \"And you will say yes, because you are a nice, helpful guy.\" \"No,\" Shane said, taking his hands. \"I will say yes because I will still be madly in love with you. And I'll want to spend the rest of my life with you.\"\n\n**_Hahahaha_**\n\n* * *\n\n> Ilya chuckled, set an alarm on his phone, and went to meet his boyfriend.\n\n* * *\n\n📋\n\n****Ficha técnica****\n\nTítulo: Heated Rivalry (Rivalidade Ardente no Brasil)\nAutora: Rachel Reid\nEditora: Carina Press\nPáginas: 371\nData da Publicação Original: 25 de março de 2019\nData da Publicação no Brasil: será lançado em 5 de fevereiro de 2026 pela Alt\nISBN 10: 1488051240\nISBN 13: 9781488051241",
  "title": "Heated Rivalry (Rachel Reid, 2019)",
  "updatedAt": "2026-03-12T21:28:07.516Z"
}