Blind Ice (Razors Ice Book 5)

by Rachelle Vaughn

  Logan nodded and leaned against the sink.

  The scent of her lingered on his fingers and he inhaled her fragrant musk. Damn, she had come fast. All it took was a few quick strokes of his tongue and fingers and she had jerked up off the counter, writhing in bliss. The fact that she was so responsive made her that much more alluring and instantly had him wondering how things would proceed once he got her horizontal in the bedroom.

  Suddenly hungry—for food—Logan washed his hands and continued preparing dinner where Kate had left off. He could find his way around a kitchen well enough and this night was just getting started.

  * * *

  Kate clung to the bathroom sink in much the same way as she had in her office that morning. What was it about this particular man that had her shaking with need and trembling with the aftershocks of blissful release?

  She hadn’t expected things to progress so quickly, but, man, that had felt incredible.

  Logan had been comfortable with the act, but he didn’t seem as if he did it every day with women he just met. No, he looked her in the eye like she was special. But maybe that was all just a part of his charm. Either way, what they’d done didn’t leave her with a skeevy feeling of regret. Quite the contrary.

  In fact, she couldn’t wait until they could do it again.

  * * *

  When she came back into the kitchen, Kate half expected Logan to be gone. As surprised as she was to see him there, she supposed a man just couldn’t pass up a home-cooked meal.

  She leaned against the doorjamb and watched as he pulled the salad from the fridge. Much to her astonishment, Logan moved around her little kitchen like it was the most natural thing in the world. He had reheated the sauce and finished boiling the pasta. He had even taken the bread out of the oven. She didn’t have to taste it to know it was warm with just the right amount of crusty on the outside and soft in the middle.

  He must have sensed her standing there because he turned to look at her. “Dinner is served.”

  “Thanks to you.”

  His lip tugged up into a grin. “I’m starving,” he admitted.

  She smiled and went to get the butter she’d forgotten to set on the table for the bread. When she bumped into him while he was serving the salad, he reached out and steadied her with both hands. The second he touched her arms, another zing of awareness passed between them.

  After exchanging a smile, they sat down across from each other at the table.

  What did you do after a drop-dead gorgeous man gave you immense oral pleasure on your kitchen counter next to a pot of boiling pasta? You sat down together like nothing ever happened and ate said pasta with a satisfied smirk on your lips and a dreamy faraway look in your eyes.

  The minute his fork passed between his lips and he bit into the tender pasta, a primal sound rumbled out from Logan’s throat. Kate thought it was the most wonderful sound she’d ever heard in her life. The way he ate his food told her he took the time to enjoy every morsel and that pleased her as much as his demonstration on the kitchen counter did.

  Well almost as much.

  “Christ, Kate,” he groaned. “This is delicious. Do you always cook like this?”

  She smiled. “I’ve been experimenting a lot more in the kitchen lately.” And then she turned beet red as the memory of what had happened in this same kitchen just moments before flashed through her mind.

  “Delicious,” he remarked and she didn’t know if he was referring to her or the food.

  “Thank you.”

  Kate never realized that eating could be such a sensual act. With every forkful, she became achingly aware of how Logan’s lips parted to receive each bite and how his tongue flicked out to lick his lips.

  “This is really delicious, Kate,” he said again a few minutes later. “I don’t get many home-cooked meals.”

  “Thank you,” she said, beaming at him.

  She’d taken a hell of a risk by inviting him into her home, but it had been worth it just to watch him savor the meal she’d prepared.

  “So, tell me a little about yourself,” he said around a mouthful of pasta.

  Kate stared at him over the rim of her wine glass. She hadn’t even taken a bite of food yet and he was already asking her about herself. What a complete gentleman.

  “Well, I moved to Red Valley eight years ago with my sister Julia. She moved to go to school here and I followed her.”

  They had just shared one of the most intimate things a man and woman could share together and now they were sitting down to normal dinner conversation.

  Mind blown.

  “What about you?” she asked. “Where are you from originally?” She already knew a considerable amount about him from his file, like his birthday and mailing address, but she could still play along.

  “Sweden,” he answered. “I came over after college to play for the UNHL and ended up here in Red Valley. I was born in Bromma, a borough in the western part of Stockholm. I also have a sister, her name is Emilia. She and my parents still live in Stockholm.”

  Kate imagined a beautiful blonde family, all tan and smiling, with blindingly white teeth. “I’ve never been to Sweden, but I hear it’s beautiful.”

  “Yes. Very.”

  Kate didn’t think it was possible to indulge in normal dinner conversation after what had happened between them by the stove, but somehow she and Logan managed to settle into a comfortable discussion about family and hockey and whatever else two adults talked about over a plate of penne rigate. She didn’t know what else she had expected from him. Why wouldn’t he be comfortable enough to discuss shared interests after giving her an orgasm with his tongue?

  Logan Murray certainly looked like a man who could hold his own at a sophisticated team event or a swanky dinner, but he also looked right at home in her little kitchen, eating a meal that was far from gourmet. He seemed at ease with himself in any environment and Kate liked that about him. He didn’t turn his nose up at his surroundings and eye everyone and everything with suspicion like her ex used to do. Logan simply leaned back, took everything in with an air of comfortable confidence and focused on her like she was the only thing in the room that mattered to him.

  He was definitely a man who was comfortable in his own skin and Kate found herself relaxing the tension in her shoulders and following the example he set.

  After dinner, Kate started to get up to clear the dishes away and Logan stopped her. He stood, picked up her plate and she turned sideways in her chair to face him. His groin was at face level. She looked at the bulge behind his zipper and then up to meet his gaze. His lips parted and she could see his body grow tense. She reached up to undo the button on his jeans and the plates clattered when he set them back down on the table.

  Slowly, she slid down the zipper and pushed his jeans down his thighs. His hands hung by his sides, one of his fingers twitched in anticipation. Next, she inched down his boxers until his cock sprang free. She licked her lips.

  Before she could do more, Logan grabbed her under her arms, lifted her from her chair and slammed her against the wall. The chair fell to the floor and skittered across the room.

  He would have asked her where the bedroom was so he could carry her there and have his way with her on a comfortable flat surface, but wherever it was, was too far away. He had to have her now. All of her, and couldn’t wait the time it would take to walk through the house.

  She didn’t seem to mind his urgency and the unconventional location. Instead, she wrapped her legs around him and he hoisted her up and smashed her against the wall.

  Kate almost couldn’t believe what was happening. This man wanted her. He couldn’t even wait until the dishes were cleared before he had to have another taste of her. The sample he’d had by the stove had only fueled his desire for her. She thought he’d satisfied his craving before dinner, but apparently a plate of pasta wasn’t enough to quench the thirst.

  She hooked her leg up around his waist, the heel of her shoe poking into his
ass. She met his urgency, devouring his mouth as his hands shoved up under her dress. His fingers were fast, ridding her of her panties and plunging into her before she had time to blink.

  When she was twisting in his arms, begging for more, he grabbed a condom from his pocket and rolled it on as fast as his fingers would let him.

  Her dress went up, he braced her against the wall, and plunged inside her warmth. She matched him, thrust for thrust, by arching her body into his and pushing him to plunge deeper.

  For better leverage, she kicked off her shoes and wrapped her legs around his waist, digging her feet into his butt cheeks with every thrust.

  It didn’t take long before she reached her climax and cried out his name as the vibrations rocked her body. Only then did Logan let himself come, so hard that he nearly blacked out.

  Slowly, he lowered her to the floor, disposed of the condom and came back to sit down next to her. She leaned her head back against the wall and took a minute to catch her breath.

  He chuckled at the dazed look on her face. “I’ve never had so much fun in a kitchen before.”

  She looked over at him and laughed. “And here I was going to apologize for not making desert.”

  * * *

  Logan parked his car—a white Ferrari 458 Italia—in his spacious three-car garage, strode into the modern kitchen and tossed his keys onto the shiny granite countertop.

  He’d bought the twenty-five hundred square foot house right after he’d signed with the Razors thinking it would be a great house to have parties in. He’d been right. It had the space for entertaining and plenty of extra bedrooms for guests who’d had too much to drink to drive home.

  At first, the parties were frequent and someone always seemed to be crashed on his couch when he woke up the next morning. Somehow, throughout the years, his mood had shifted. While his buddies and teammates spent time at the bar or the club, he preferred staying home with his big screen TV. Eventually, the parties died down and out and relocated to different players’ houses.

  Even though his lifestyle had changed somewhat, Logan still liked that the house was big enough to accommodate his family when they came to the U.S. during their bi-yearly visits. It was comforting having everyone under one roof instead of miles away at a hotel. And his mother and sister liked to brag about his big house in California to their friends and neighbors back home in Sweden.

  For Logan, it was just a place to lay his head between games. He never gave his housing any more thought than that.

  Now, he stood alone wondering how he could feel so claustrophobic in such a large space.

  He liked Kate’s house. A lot. Although it was on the small side, it was cozy and had a certain charm to it. He could see himself waking up in Kate’s sunny bedroom and eating breakfast in her little kitchen. They would discuss the day’s headlines over eggs and coffee and all would feel right with the world. The nights would be equally satisfying, sharing a bottle of wine in front of the TV before retiring to her bedroom and snuggling under the sheets.

  Christ, he thought and raked his hand through his hair. He sounded like an old geezer. He was still young and should still be sowing his wild oats, shouldn’t he? The thing was, he’d already done that—the women and the parties and the booze. Been there, done that. Now he was ready to settle down to one bed and one woman. And that woman could very well be Kate Kapowski.

  God, she was incredible. She really had no idea how incredibly sexy she was. That attribute combined with her brains made her not only the perfect woman, but the perfect woman for him.

  As much as he traveled, the thought of having one woman to come home to appealed to Logan more than he liked to admit. But it wasn’t fair to commit to someone long-term when his life was all about the short-term. He was a right winger with an incredible slap shot, climbing his way up the ranks of the United National Hockey League. And, as his agent liked to remind him on a semi-regular basis, his contract with the Razors was expiring soon.

  Logan could have his pick of the women who waited outside the locker room and the team’s hotel when they went on the road. Those perks used to be enough. Now he was thinking it might be nice to try out a more meaningful relationship. With a woman who didn’t care about his stats and the number of zeroes on his contract and in his bank account. And right now it was looking like Kate could be exactly that kind of woman.

  His mother and sister Emilia were constantly prodding at him to find a “nice” girl and settle down. The truth was, he wanted nothing more than to do just that, but he hadn’t been able to find that special someone in Red Valley yet. Maybe she was waiting back home in Sweden. Maybe she didn’t even exist. Maybe he had just met her.

  When his sister and mother told him he’d eventually meet a woman to settle down with, he’d never put much stock in their words. He wasn’t convinced a woman with the qualities they raved about—kindness, generousness and grace—actually existed. But whenever Logan found himself thinking about Kate—which was more often than he thought possible—those same qualities came to mind. She embodied those attributes and somehow Emilia and his mother had been right all these years.

  Could it be possible he’d found that one special woman he could actually see himself settling down with?

  Chapter Five

  Windy City

  Gabe Crawford popped a stick of cinnamon flavored gum into his mouth and locked the door of his apartment behind him. The studio apartment was just a place to lay his head at night—at least the nights when he didn’t sleep at his office anyway. All the same, it was not a place he would exactly call welcoming. It was so small that he didn’t even have space for a roommate to liven the place up.

  Regular visits to the gym downstairs offset his steady diet of fast food and takeout. Sometimes he made use of the gym just to avoid being inside his depressing apartment. It was sparsely furnished with just a bed, a TV, and every gaming console ever made. Nothing hung on the walls, and his opinion, nothing belonged there. He didn’t even own a coffeemaker.

  Lately, Gabe spent less and less time at his apartment. It didn’t really feel like home anyway. It was just four walls, a bed and some clothes hanging limply in the closet. Who wanted to go home to an empty apartment? He’d thought about getting a dog once, but with all the hours he spent at the office it wouldn’t be fair to the poor creature. A pet wouldn’t help things or bring joy or meaning to his life anyway.

  To keep his expenses to a minimum, Gabe didn’t own a car. He used public transportation whenever he could and lived close enough to his office that he walked to work most days. He’d been saving all of his money. For what? Well, he didn’t really know yet. He just knew he liked the security of having a nice fat nest egg in case things at Intelliteck ever went south. Not that that would ever happen. He was one of the best in the business and as much of an ass as his boss was, he’d be a fool to overlook Gabe’s talent.

  Overall Gabe liked the people he worked with. Besides the few friends he’d made at work, he didn’t socialize much and preferred to spend his time talking to Julia on the phone. If there was such a feeling as home, it was definitely talking to her. Everything just seemed better when her voice was in his ear.

  When he arrived at work, Gabe popped a fresh stick of gum into his mouth and strode up the imposing steps of Intelliteck. The sleek glass building was a glittering addition to the Chicago skyline and in no way reflected the tedious work that went on inside.

  Gabe knew the city boasted plenty of activities and a lively night life, but the simple truth was: if it didn’t have to do with VINCE, he steered clear of it. What was he going to do out at a night club anyway? Hit on women? Drink too much to where he was hung over the next morning and too groggy to concentrate on his work? Nope, Gabe thought. Not gonna happen. And what did he need to hit on women for when he had the ultimate female to talk to on the phone every day?

  Gabe had begun developing VINCE full force when he made the connection that hands-free technology would also work well
for the seeing impaired. He had stumbled around his apartment with a tube sock tied over his eyes to simulate a blind person’s existence to find out what he was missing that would make VINCE even more helpful. He wanted his creation to be stocked with every feature a visually impaired person might need—and even some they might not have thought they needed.

  If his company ultimately approved the distribution of VINCE, thousands of people would benefit from the innovative software.

  Gabe had planned to be finished with the VINCE prototype months ago, but his boss kept pulling him from the project to work on more “lucrative” assignments. Because he didn’t yet work for himself, Gabe had no choice but to comply with the man who was writing the checks. And Bill Killingsworth never missed an opportunity to remind Gabe that Bill was the one in charge.

  At the time, Gabe had thought it was great when Intelliteck had given him his own office, a step up from his tiny cubicle, but it turned out to just be a way for them to justify dumping more work onto his desk—and his shoulders.

  The only thing keeping Gabe in Chicago was his job—his work meant everything to him. But, besides Intelliteck, he didn’t have any family or friends tying him down to this place. He didn’t have a reason not to work so much.

  Gabe stopped by Wesley’s cubicle and scooted over a Zelda figurine to make room for the coffee he’d brought him. Wesley Brown was a fun goofball gamer geek and made working at Intelliteck bearable. Gabe could barely see Wesley’s computer screen for all the action figures and game collectibles on his desk. After years of computer graphics design school the kid was stuck designing interface for big corporations. Not exactly the glamorous life of designing elaborate video game levels his friend had dreamed of.

  “When are you going to go create your own video game?”

  Wesley looked up and grinned when he saw the steaming coffee. He took a sip of the strong brew instead of answering the timeworn question.

  Gabe flicked his thumb towards Wesley’s computer screen. “You know, your talent’s being wasted on this coding crap.”