Page 84 of No Pucks

He arches his back, tugging off his helmet. “We not going to wax on wax off on the ice?”

I glance around. “You know we can’t.”

He gets back on his skates, brushing his hip against my dick. “If you say so.”

I watch his perfect ass as he skates away. The second he’s off the ice, he starts shedding his gear.

“Fucking tease,” I mutter under my breath.

His shoulder muscles flex as he pulls off his shoulder pads, dropping them in the hall. He at least waits until he kicks open the door to the locker room, glancing over his shoulder to make sure I’m following.

He sits on the first bench, leaning over to untie his skates. “It’s not really sexy to take my skates off.”

“I have to do mine too.” I sit next to him and rub my thigh absentmindedly.

But he doesn’t let me even get started. His are off in under twenty seconds, and then he’s on his knees in front of me. “Let me help you with that.”

I sit back, letting him. Once he has them off, he holds out his hand, helping me to my feet. I take it, and our chests meet.

“Kiss me,” he says softly.

I give him this one, but then I force myself back. “Just the jock.”

He strips down to it without question, and I groan.

“Turn around and bend over. I want your ass.”

“No one’s home.They all get here tomorrow.” I hang up my coat. It feels weird to be in Logan’s house.

“Why is no one here?”

“Mother was skiing and then picking up Evander on her way home.” Logan toes off his shoes, leaving them in the middle of the hall.

I reluctantly take off my coat, handing it to him when he holds out a hand. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea to sleep here. What if they get home early?”

“It’s an eight-hour flight, and my tracking app tells me my mother is still at the resort.” He blows up the map and turns it around. “I can even tell which mountain she’s on.”

“Why are you tracking your mom with an app? Isn’t it usually the other way around?” I take off my shoes.

“No, it has totally flipped in the last ten years. I don’t think my mother has ever looked at my location. But I’ll check hers when she’s not answering me. Evander is worse. He checks hers all the time, nosy bastard. He even checks mine. He’d ask who’s place I was at. Hell, he texted me a few days ago to ask me if I ever went back to my place. Like, he’s checked so much, he knows I’ve basically spent every night at your place for weeks.”

“Your brother is quite?—”

“A bitch? Yes.”

“I was going to say an interesting guy.” I almost smile, and my cheeks already hurt. The more time I spend with Logan, the happier I am. It’s a strange feeling. “You have me here. Now, tell me why.”

“Because I want you here? It’s nice to change our scenery. I like my house and my room. We can get dinner away from school, and no one will look twice at us.” He takes my hands, lacing our fingers.

I’m still not sold, but I like how happy he seems about doing this. It’s adorable. “Lead the way.”

His family brownstone is sprawling, at least seven thousand square feet spread over five floors with a roof top terrace. Logan has the entire fifth floor as his space, and it’s basically his own apartment. His ‘floor’ is nicer than my first apartment while playing in the NHL. He leads me through a brief tour—bedroom with private ensuite, balcony, and back into the sitting room with a huge, beautiful skylight and a private staircase to the rooftop.

“Want me to put on some oldies?” Logan stops in front of a massive shelf of records spanning half the wall.

“Don’t you dare call music from twenty years ago oldies.” I step in beside him to flip through the records. “You have some good stuff in here.”

“As if I’d have bad taste.” He shoots me an exasperated side-glance.

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