Page 148 of Wicked Minds
Something passes over his face, too fast for me to decipher. “They probably would… if they knew.”
I puzzle over that, brows furrowing until pieces start to make sense. “Logan,” I gasp in awe as my arm snaps out to grasp a hold of his. “Is this…yourprogram? Did you set it up?”
He doesn’t verbally answer, but his eyes drop to mine, shining with so much emotion that it’s an answer all on its own. “You did,” I murmur in astonishment. “Holy shit, Logan.” I’ve never seen him look as bashful as he does now, and I can’t stop watching him. “You set up a program all on your own to help disadvantaged families have the same opportunities when it comes to hockey as those with money. You’ve given those kids a chance to achieve something they otherwise never would have. You’ve helped those parents make dreams and wishes come true.”
One shoulder lifts in a shrug that carries too much emotion. “I’m just teaching them hockey.”
I dig my heels into the ice, squeezing his arms as hard as I can. “You know damn well you’re doing more than that. You’re making a difference in their lives. Those children love you. They love being on the ice, learning the game.Yougave them that.”
“Coach helped. He okayed using the stadium.” I narrow my eyes in a stern glare that makes him chuckle. “But okay, yes, I set up the rest. I donated the funds, bought the gear, and got Royce to design the jerseys. I started the program, giving up my time each week to teach them—although some of the other guys help out occasionally, too.”
Tugging on his arm, I steer myself closer, my skates coming to reside between his larger ones as my body presses against his. I stare into his gorgeous chestnut eyes with a new appreciation—a fresh understanding. I always knew Logan wore a front, I just hadn’t realized how much he kept hidden underneath. Until now, I’ve only been seeing the surface of the real Logan. Now,for the first time, I’m staring directly at him. No masks. No nonchalance. No pretenses.
And he’s absolutely glorious in his unmasking.
One hand curls around the front of his black hoodie and I pull, drawing his face down to mine and blotting out the world around us until nothing exists except the pounding of my heart in my chest, the strength of his body beneath my hand, and this exhilarating charge in the air between us.
When his lips hover inches above mine, his eyes darkened to a burnt umber as they bore into mine, burning with hunger and a raw vulnerability as if he feels this precarious whirlpool of emotions as strongly as I do, I murmur, “Kiss me.” I’m not sure if it’s a plea or a demand, and I don’t care.
Seemingly as desperate for me as I am for him, he wraps those strong arms of his around my waist, my skates offering no resistance as he drags me infinitely closer, eliminating any space between us as he lowers his lips to mine and steals the air from my lungs with a single brush of skin against skin.
Despite the fierce passion in his gaze, his kiss is gentle and intimate, sending shivers down my spine. Every nerve in my body is on edge, our next brush of lips firmer yet soft. Sweet. Palpitating.
On our next meeting, his tongue sweeps past my lips, his groan meeting my moan before our kiss descends into something more profound.
Anticipation burns in the air around us. My arms move over his chest to wind around his neck, and in the middle of the ice rink, I hand my whole heart over to Logan Astor, knowing without a doubt that he’ll protect it with his entire being.
“Riley,” he groans against my skin, my name a plea on his lips.
“Logan,” I return, my voice just as strained and breathless.
“You’re pushing at the last threads of my restraint,” he rasps, face buried in the crook of my neck and breath teasing my heated skin.
“Good. I don’t want you to be restrained with me.” I press a kiss to the sharp angle of his jaw. “I want every real and genuine part of you.” Another kiss. “The kind and generous and loyal man before me.” Another kiss brings me to the shell of his ear, and I begin to work a trail down his neck, smirking against his skin as his throat bobs. “And the ruthless, untameable man on the ice who won his team the Frozen Four three years in a row and will do the same this year.”
He growls, the sound vibrating through his chest and spurring me on. “Be a Husky with me, Logan. Show me that fierce determination when you set your sights on what you want and refuse to let anything stand in your way.”
His muscles vibrate beneath my touch, and with a final whisper in his ear, “Take me, Logan. I’m yours,” he snaps. His hands roughly grasp the back of my thighs, and I’m lifted off my feet, my legs hurriedly wrapping around his waist as he expertly skates without even looking toward the edge of the ice.
His searing gaze remains locked on mine, navigating the rink with a precision that only someone who has skated on it a thousand times could achieve. Reaching the edge, he stomps off the ice and carries me down the tunnel. I don’t care where he’s taking me as I thread my fingers through his feathery, soft blond hair and relish the feeling of being in his arms, knowing that soon—very soon—Logan will be mine in every conceivable way.
A door is roughly kicked open, and I only lift my head long enough to take in the empty locker room before I lower my lips to his and kiss him with every ounce of tender affection, burning desire, and tentative love I feel for him.
I only pull away when he drops to his knees, and I feel the hardwood of a bench beneath my ass. Blinking, I stare agape atLogan on his knees before me, this mountain of a man gazing at me like I’m the only thing standing between him and insanity.
“You better know what you’re doing, Shortcake,” he growls, hungry eyes unmoving from mine. “‘Cause I’ve never wanted anyone the way I need you, and once we cross this line, you’ll be irrevocably mine.”
The first flutter of nerves tingles against my ribs, and the only word that comes to my lips is “Royce.” I’m aware that I already crossed this line with him, and he promised he was good with this—and with Grayson, which I’m refusing to give any thought to at the present moment. Only I never clarified with Logan thathe’sokay with this. I mean, it’s been weeks of eating in the food court together, and they’ve both been spending their nights at my apartment. However, before we cross this line, it feels important to clarify where we stand.
Logan’s lips twitch. “I am quite clear on Royce’s feelings regarding you.”
My eyebrows hit my hairline. Somehow, I cannot imagine the two of them sitting down for a heart-to-heart.
He chuckles, and it’s dark and seductive, scraping against my skin in the most delicious of ways. “Royce is not as mysterious as he makes himself out to be. If you know how to read him, he’s an open book.” Sliding his hands along my jean-clad thighs, he continues, “He’s been through so much shit. If you bring him even an ounce of happiness, then I’m not going to stand in the way of that. Besides, if there’s any woman capable of handling Royce King, it’s you, Shortcake.”
He seals any response I might have come up with behind his lips as we sink into another heated kiss.
“Stop distracting me, Shortcake,” he rasps when we break apart, chests heaving. “I need to get these skates off before I can start on all the dirty things I’ve been dreaming of doing to you.”
