Sporting (Unleashed Romance #3) - Kylie Gilmore


After accidentally dinging a brand-new car, I’m suddenly face-to-face with an angry alpha male. And the sparks are flying.

Wait. Eli Robinson?

How’s it possible the irritating younger brother of my best friend has morphed into this gorgeous swaggering man?

I can’t let myself be tempted. Eli is off-limits. My best friend, his sister who helped raise him, makes sure I know it.

Except the more I get to know him, the more difficult it is to stay away. This can only end badly. No relationship is worth losing my best friend.

And then he kidnaps me.


Once upon a time, Jenna Larsen was my teenaged dream girl, and I mean that in the dirtiest way possible. Now that we’re adults, I discovered she’s even better than I dreamed. So I take her on a surprise trip to get away from judging eyes. An extended date of sorts. Fine. I kidnapped her.

I only hope she stops being mad long enough to give us a chance.


Don’t miss Toying! There’s an excerpt at the back of this book.


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As one of Summerdale’s finest in blue, I’m not supposed to say that people are idiots, but tonight has really tried my patience. So far on my shift, I’ve:

Caught minors with alcohol (five times). Could you at least take your crap beer into the woods where I don’t patrol? Get a clue!

Confiscated illegal fireworks (three times). Can we not blow a finger off on my watch?

Explained why people can’t park in an emergency zone (too many times to count). Idiots.

The irony is, I used to be one of those idiot rule breakers. Who better to enforce the rules than the guy who broke them all as a teen?

My shift is over, so why did I come back to the center of all the action at Lake Summerdale? Tradition. It’s the end-of-summer regatta—everyone’s out on the lake on boats with festive lights—and I wanted to watch the fireworks with the community I grew up in and love. I’m on the shore, out of uniform in a black T-shirt and jeans, leaning back against a tree to soak it in. There’s nothing like a warm summer night by the lake. So many memories here with my family, enjoying a picnic on the shore, swimming, fishing with my dad. Later, the lake was my go-to place for making out with girls. That was before I came up with the brilliant idea of stealing a car to drive to a more secluded spot for all my amorous activity. No license either, but I was a quick study.

I stand and stretch as the fireworks come to an end with one final burst of brilliant red, blue, and purple. Always a good show from the town rec department. I linger onshore, letting people clear out ahead of me. No reason to rush to the crowded parking lot over at The Horseman Inn just to sit in my car. Though my new car is a beauty, a silver Ford Mustang GT premium convertible with heated leather seats, V-8 engine, and 10-speed automatic transmission. I’ve had her two weeks, my first new car ever (the rest have been used), and she’s been a dream to drive.

Finally, the crowd thins, and I make my way along the curving lakeside path to the road. It’s close to a full moon tonight, and the silver of my Mustang glows in the moonlight. I washed her earlier today, using a special polish for a final touch, and she’s looking fine.

I cross the road, pull out my key fob, and unlock the car. The rear lights of a red Honda Accord parked in front of my car light up.

No-o-o. I watch in horror as the Honda backs right into my brand-new Mustang. I suck in air. The crunch of the Mustang’s front bumper feels like a personal hit to the solar plexus. My baby. My brand-new baby.

I rush over to inspect the damage. The front bumper is destroyed.

I gesture angrily toward the driver still in their car. “What the hell are you doing? You backed into my car!”

The door of the Honda opens, and a familiar tall blonde woman steps out. Jenna Larsen. She’s my older sister Sydney’s best friend—my onetime teen sex fantasy—looking hot as hell in a snug white T-shirt and jean shorts that show off her long legs.

None of that matters at the moment.

“You ruined my car!” I shout, gesturing to