Page 79 of Off the Ice

I wrapped a towel around my hair, still flushed and breathless, while Logan headed into the kitchen to make breakfast. The smell of coffee and bacon filled the air as I ran a brush through my damp hair, humming softly to myself.

A few minutes later, Logan’s phone rang from the counter. I heard him sigh before picking it up.

I walked out just in time to see his emotions completely change. Logan pressed the phone to his ear, his expression unreadable. “McKay.”

There was a pause. And as quick and Logan picked up the phone, he was hanging up.

"Fuck that guy,"

I walked up behind him, slipping my arms around his waist. “You okay?”

"Yeah, He was spewing stupid shit about my new contract." He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before turning to me. His expression softened when he saw what I was wearing—one of his old t-shirts, falling just past my thighs.

A small smirk tugged at his lips. “You trying to kill me?”

I grinned. “Thought you could use the distraction.”

Logan’s hands found my hips, his fingers tracing the bare skin beneath the hem of his shirt. “You’re a very good distraction.”

I leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. “Come on, golden boy. Pancakes first.”

We ate breakfast at the kitchen island, the television humming in the background. Logan flipped through the channels absentmindedly until a familiar voice caught our attention.

“—breaking news from the NHL’s executive offices this morning…”

We both turned as the camera cut to a serious-looking news anchor.

“The league has officially announced its verdict following the largest betting scandal in hockey history. Glen Riker, Andrew McKay, and ten others have been permanently banned from the NHL and all affiliated organizations. Other professional leagues, including the NBA and NFL, have followed suit, ensuring these individuals can never hold positions in professional sports again.”

Logan let out a slow breath.

The anchor continued. “Additionally, several executives and former players have been arrested as the FBI investigation expands. However, thanks to his cooperation and testimony, Darren Connelly will not face formal punishment.”

A heavy silence settled over the kitchen as the segment wrapped up.

Logan’s shoulders sagged slightly. Not in relief, exactly, but in finality.

“It’s over,” I murmured.

He nodded, reaching for his coffee. “Yeah. It is.”

I grabbed the remote, turning off the TV. Then, before he could take another sip, I slid onto his lap, straddling him on the stool.

His hands immediately found my hips, his fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt—myshirt now, apparently.

I felt every inch of him beneath me, the heat of his skin seeping through the fabric of his jeans, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he fought for control. But I didn’t want control—I wanted the unraveling, the giving in, the exquisite wreckage of it all. His breath hitched as I leaned in, brushing my lips over his in a teasing caress before deepening the kiss, my tongue slipping past the seam of his mouth. A slow smile curled at the corner of my lips as I whispered, “You feel that?”

Logan groaned, his fingers flexing against my thighs, his grip tightening as if he needed something to anchor him. His body tensed beneath me, the evidence of his arousal straining against the rough denim that separated us.

“Ava…” His voice was strained, almost desperate, like he was barely holding himself together.

“This is what we have to look forward to,” I murmured, my hand slipping between us. The moment his eyes darkened, I knew he realized. I wasn’t wearing anything under his tee shirt.

“Jesus Christ.” His words came out on a rough exhale, and the way his voice dropped an octave sent a shiver straight down my spine.

He moved instinctively, hands sliding beneath the hem of the shirt, fingers tracing the sensitive skin along my hips before gripping my waist. I could feel the tremor in his touch. Lifting just enough to shift over him, I felt the thick press of him against my center, and I sucked in a sharp breath, my body already aching for more. His fingers dug into my thighs, guiding me, helping me as I slowly sank down onto him. A gasp caught in my throat, pleasure unfurling in slow, sweet waves as he stretched and filled me completely.

“Fuck,” Logan groaned, his forehead dropping against mine, his breath ragged. His hands slid up my back, pressing me closer, like he needed me just as much as I needed him. “You’re gonna kill me.”

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