Razors Ice 04 - Hot Ice

by Rachelle Vaughn

  “Relax, Pats. He’s the guy who gave me a ride to work this morning.”

  Patricia looked up from her plant, her lips set in a grim line. “He’s not just a guy, Violet. He’s a client.”

  Violet rolled her eyes and slapped Jace’s file on the counter. “I know.”

  “Please behave,” Patricia begged. “We need this business.”

  Sheesh. Patricia always took the fun out of everything. What harm was there in appreciating the beauty of a magnificent man like Jace McQuaid? Lord knew she never had time to indulge in any other kind of fun.

  Man, when her brothers found out that she had one foot in the Red Valley Razors’ door, they’d freak out. Violet wasn’t freaking out over Jace’s pro-athlete status, though. She was freaking out because she was about to literally get her hands on the left winger’s body. Hopefully he was still in the room when she returned and her sex-starved brain hadn’t made him up. That would be a pity.

  Violet stood straight and saluted her chronically worried business partner. “I’ll be on my best behavior, boss.”

  Patricia just shook her head.

  When Violet knocked on the door and glided back into the room, sure enough, Jace McQuaid was still there. She had half expected him to be a mirage or something. Just a handsome image her brain conjured up shrouded by ferns and lucky bamboo plants.

  He was lying face-down on the table just like she’d instructed him, his lower half draped with the sheet. His bare back was tan and more muscular than she was used to seeing. Not that she was expecting a beer belly to appear from under his jersey, but Charles Atlas was a pleasant and very welcome surprise.

  After drizzling oil on his back, Violet took a deep breath and began the massage. She splayed her hands, pressed her open palms onto his upper shoulders on either side of his spine, and ran them over his back. His skin was smooth and warm under her fingers. As her hands glided over the muscles parallel to his spine, she applied gentle pressure, preparing his body for deeper manipulation.

  Over the years, Violet had seen bodies of all shapes and sizes on her table. But there was something about Jace’s body that made her uneasy. The sight of his back, tan and glistening with massage oil. A glimpse of his thigh, bulging with muscle. His stomach, lean, tight and sculpted. His hips… No! She didn’t need to be thinking about what was going on below his waist.

  Focus.

  “Let me know if you feel any pain,” Violet told him. “We don’t want to bruise the muscle and cause any more damage.”

  “Okay.”

  Her hands glided up and down his neck and back, seeking tender spots and rubbing them to gauge how much pressure he could take. Her gentle yet thorough method had him relaxed in no time.

  Running the base of her palms along his back, she got to work eliminating every last drop of stress. It was much too easy to let her mind wander to the sensuousness of a massage. For the first time since becoming a massage therapist, she had thoughts of slowing down and bringing him pleasure as well as healing. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. This was her job. She was a professional.

  Violet desperately needed a distraction. So, for the duration of the massage, she mentally recited the scientific names of muscles. She ran her hand over the iliacus muscle and up to the psoas.

  “Is this pressure all right?” she asked. “My clients aren’t usually athletes.”

  “It’s perfect.”

  Rhomboids, trapezius, levator scapulae.

  She expertly coaxed tension from the base of his skull before moving on to his shoulders, applying various degrees of pressure.

  When she began working on his shoulder, she noticed his hands clench. “Is that too much pressure?”

  “Eh, I can handle it.”

  “You don’t have to be macho,” she gently reminded him. “If anything hurts, please let me know.”

  He hesitated before answering. “I guess that spot’s a little touchy.”

  She smiled and eased up on the pressure. “That’s all I need to know.”

  Some of Violet’s clients preferred the quiet and others liked to talk during their massage. She could tell that Jace didn’t mind chatting. So, to keep her mind in the right place, Violet talked to him about neutral topics like hockey, food and entertainment. By the time the session was up, Violet learned that his movie and restaurant preferences were eerily similar to her own.

  Jace radiated heat and Violet was drawn to him like a hummingbird to a fragrant honeysuckle bloom. It was as if she had been frozen solid for years and Jace had come to unthaw her and spark her blood flow again. And spark he did! Violet had never felt such electricity with anyone, especially one of her clients.

  Even though he was lying still, Violet could sense the power in him. The power to explode onto the ice with a flash of a red jersey. The skill to maneuver a puck artfully past an opponent. The brawn to sacrifice his body and take a hit for the sake of the play. Once upon a time he had had that power, that vitality on the ice and now he lay hurt and broken on her table.

  She continued by gliding her hands over the rounded contour of the deltoid muscle in his shoulder. After increasing the blood flow to the area, she began deeper motions, kneading the muscles in his back and shoulders. Her motions had a rhythmical quality and she inched her way up with continuous kneading.

  The pressure started out firm and gradually slowed, somehow becoming sensual. As she gently worked the muscles in his shoulder, she couldn’t help but notice his hairline at his neck. His hair looked soft and inviting. She imagined hair in other places on his body. Chest, arms, legs. She wondered how the rest of his hair would feel if she were to rake her fingers through it while he…

  Serratus anterior. Teres minor and major.

  She imagined those big hands skimming over her body, the stubble of his beard scratching her inner thighs…

  Latissimus dorsi, dammit!

  “Is everything okay back there?” Jace asked groggily. “You got awfully still all of a sudden.”

  Violet squeezed her eyes shut and tried to clear her throat. “Yeah,” she croaked.

  “It felt so good, I was almost about to fall asleep.”

  “Yeah.” Her cheeks turned pink and she cleared her throat again and started working her fingers up to his aforementioned neck. “I mean ‘yeah’ everything is okay, not ‘yeah’ it felt so good I was falling asleep too.”

  He chuckled and his whole body rumbled. Her rhythmic kneading left him so delirious, he didn’t even realize she’d prolonged his session by an extra ten minutes.

  Violet went to the sink to wash the oil from her hands. When she turned off the faucet, she noticed they were shaking. “I’ll just step out so you can get dressed,” she told Jace. “Take all the time you need.” Without waiting for a reply, Violet slipped from the room.

  She pulled the door shut and leaned against the wall. This was just a regular workday just like every other regular work day, she reminded herself. Clients came in, she and Patricia rid them of their aches and pains, they sent them on their way and a new batch of clients came in the next day. Some regulars, some first-timers, some hockey players with bodies like Greek gods and movie star smiles and rugged good looks.

  Violet sighed and pushed away from the wall.

  * * *

  When Jace came out of the massage room and into the lobby fully dressed, Patricia pounced on him like the ambitious business owner she was. “Good morning, Mr. McQuaid,” she greeted warmly. “I’m Patricia Liles, co-owner of Healing Touch. How was your massage this morning?” she asked sweetly.

  Jace rotated his shoulders and rolled his neck around. “It was great,” he answered sounding completely relaxed and rejuvenated.

  “Oh, good,” Patricia said with obvious relief.

  Violet frowned. Didn’t her best friend and business partner have any faith in her? Violet may have been a little disorganized and she might not have the natural grace that Patricia had, but she sure as hell could be counted on to give the best massage thi
s side of the Rocky Mountains.

  Patricia continued with her spiel without giving Violet a second glance. “Please let us know if there’s anything else we can do for you, Mr. McQuaid.”

  “Thank you,” Jace said to Patricia and flashed her a smile. He made no move to leave, but looked over at Violet instead. “My offer to drive you to the gas station is still on the table.”

  Violet’s first thought was to decline, but instead she listened to the tiny voice in her head. The one screaming yes, Yes, YES!

  Violet turned to Warden Patricia and asked, “How much time do I have before my next appointment?”

  Patricia frowned and studied the meticulous schedule she kept. “Mr. Molinari had to push his appointment back, so you have about twenty-five minutes.”

  Violet had a feeling she was padding the time, but it didn’t matter. Twenty-five minutes was more than enough time.

  “Perfect,” Violet said and turned back to Jace. “I think I’ll take you up on your offer.”

  “Great.” His cell phone rang and he looked at the display. “Excuse me, ladies. I need to take this call. Violet, I’ll meet you outside.”

  The two women watched him walk out of the office and into the windy parking lot. Patricia shot Violet a warning look and Violet flounced down the hall to get her purse and coat, her step extra springy.

  * * *

  Jace saw the name on his caller ID and smiled. “Hey, little brother,” he answered.

  The wind whipped through his coat, but he didn’t mind. The blast of frigid air was like a much-needed cold shower after Violet’s body-tingling massage. Man, that woman knew how to manipulate more than his neck and shoulders.

  “How’s sunny California?” his younger brother, Donovan, asked.

  The kid sounded like he was down the street instead of 3000 miles away in Florida.

  “It’s colder than my ex-wife out here,” Jace joked. Then, in an effort to keep his bitterness at bay, he clamped his mouth shut.

  “Yeah, yeah. Anything under ninety degrees and your old bones start creakin’.”

  “Very funny.”

  With Jace being thirty-seven and Donovan seventeen, the McQuaid brothers’ age difference was a staggering twenty years. Unfortunately they didn’t get to do any growing up together. By the time Donovan was born, Jace was already drafted into the UNHL and playing professional hockey.

  Despite the age difference, Jace knew his brother was determined to follow in his footsteps. Donovan would probably go on to be drafted by the Everblades or the Razors or maybe even an elite team like the Blizzards in Colorado. Jace couldn’t be prouder.

  “The weather will be nice by the time I get there,” Donovan replied confidently. “I’m coming to Cali for spring break!”

  Jace’s kid brother’s youthful enthusiasm crackled through the phone.

  “Mom signed off on this?” Jace asked skeptically.

  “Not yet but I’m workin’ on her.” He knew she would cave. She always did. “Dad doesn’t care one way or another. Either way they’re letting me fly out this summer.”

  “Good. I look forward to it.”

  “Yeah. Anything to keep busy until the Blades invite me for tryouts. Hey, will you pick me up at the airport?”

  “Sure. Just let me know when.”

  “Cool, thanks. Hey, I gotta go.”

  Donovan always had to go somewhere. There was always something more important and more exciting than what he was currently doing.

  “Yeah, me too,” Jace replied glancing at the door of Healing Touch. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

  “Later.”

  Jace ended the call and smiled. He looked forward to a visit from his little brother. If there was one thing he needed in his life it was a dash of youthfulness.

  * * *

  Back inside the SUV, Jace cranked the heater up to a Patricia-like setting, but Violet didn’t need it this time. There was enough heat between her thighs to start a small brush fire. She wiggled her bottom into the warm seat anyway. “Oh, my goodness, this is the most amazing thing I’ve felt in…a long time,” she admitted.

  One look at her with her head back and lips parted and Jace wished her car was parked in the next zip code over, so he could spend some more time with her.

  “I can circle the block a few times if you want,” he said with a smirk.

  She looked over at him and smiled. “No, that’s okay. As much as I’d like to, I don’t want Pats to kill me for being late to my next appointment.”

  Jace silently wished that he was her next appointment. And the one after that…

  “She runs a tight ship,” he commented.

  “Yeah. She’s not bad, though. She just wants the business to succeed.”

  “And you?”

  “Well, yeah, I want that, too, but sometimes you have to cut loose a little, you know?”

  Jace shot her a knowing smile and she nearly melted into the leather seat.

  “My brothers are going to flip when I tell them I got to ride in a Porsche today,” she said, changing the subject.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah, my two older brothers run an auto shop with my Dad restoring classic cars.”

  He nodded. “That’s cool. Do they live here in Red Valley?”

  “Two of them do. My younger brother is on the road a lot. He plays guitar in a band.”

  “Really? Which band?”

  “Crush 21.”

  Jace’s eyes widened. “Wow. I thought you meant like an amateur garage band or something. Crush 21 is famous. Sometimes we listen to their stuff in the locker room to get pumped up before games. They’ve got that cute little lead singer, huh? What’s her name again?”

  Violet smiled, thinking of her brother’s vivacious band mate. “Cassidy St. Claire.”

  “Yeah, Cassidy, that’s the one. Wow, that’s pretty impressive, Violet. Your parents must be very proud.”

  “Yes.” Her parents were definitely proud of her brothers. Her mother never missed an opportunity to remind Violet of their accomplishments and success. Meanwhile, Violet remained chopped liver. “They never have a shortage of interesting tidbits for the annual family Christmas letter, that’s for sure,” she told Jace. “Unfortunately, my mom is currently experiencing Empty Nest Syndrome.”

  “My brother is still in the nest for a few more months.”

  “You have a younger brother?”

  “Yeah. He jokes he’s young enough to be my son, but yeah, we’re brothers.”

  Violet looked around at the hi-tech controls on the dash. “So, you have an SUV.”

  “Yeah.” He looked at her with a funny expression. Hadn’t they already established that?

  “Sorry, it’s just that now that I know what you do for a living, I picture you driving something more along the lines of, oh, I don’t know…a red Ferrari.”

  “Really?” he smirked. “A red Ferrari?”

  “Yeah,” she said. Pro-athletes were always showing off their flashy rides and driving outrageously expensive vehicles, weren’t they?

  “How come?”

  “You know, it’s easy to imagine a hot shot hockey player driving a red Ferrari.”

  Jace was flattered, but it had been years since he considered himself a hot shot hockey player. Because of his age and his injuries, those days were slipping further and further behind him.

  “Hot shot, huh?” he asked. Splotches of pink crept into her cheeks and he shrugged. “A Ferrari would be fun, but I need the four-wheel-drive for the snow.”

  “Oh yeah? Where do you live?” She bit down on her lip. “Sorry. Is that too personal?” She’d just rubbed her hands over nearly every inch of his body and she was worried about being too personal.

  “No, not at all,” Jace reassured her. He would give her his social security number if he could get her to bite down on that lip again. “The address is probably in my file anyway,” he pointed out. “I have a cabin in August Lake.”

  She whistled. “Nice. Y
ou must get quite a lot of snow up there being so close to Mt. August.”

  “A few feet sometimes.”

  Wow, a cabin in August Lake. And she bet it wasn’t some dilapidated old shack in the woods either.

  A cell phone rang, interrupting Violet’s train of thought. “Is that yours or mine?” she asked, looking around for her phone.

  “Yours,” he answered. He knew it wasn’t his because, ironically, his ring tone was “The Zamboni Song.”

  It took Violet four long rings to find her phone buried at the bottom of her purse. “Hello?” she finally answered. “Yes, Pats. Uh-huh.” She rolled her eyes at Jace. Tight ship, she mouthed. “That’s okay,” she said into the phone. “I’ll give him one of mine. I will. Okay. See you in a few…Hello?” Violet frowned at her phone. “My phone died.” When she looked at the display it showed plenty of bars, but no battery power. No juice. That fit in perfectly with the theme of the day. No gas. No juice. No filter on her mind as it strayed into hot and heavy territory every time she looked at Jace.

  At the next stoplight, Jace reached over to get something out of the glove department and his hand brushed against Violet’s knee. She sucked in a breath and squeezed her legs together. Plenty of juice there!

  This was just great. She had just spent nearly an hour running her hands over his skin, but the minute he touched her, her equilibrium shifted. This guy was more than she had a right to handle. And she had no right in handling any man who wasn’t her fiancé, she reminded herself.

  “Here,” Jace handed her his universal cell phone charger. “You can charge it on the way to your car. It’ll give you enough power to get you back to your office at least.”

  “Thank you.” Violet plugged in the phone and settled back into the warmth of her seat. Were there really other men out there in the world like Jace? She highly doubted it. He seemed a bit too good to be true.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked, referring to her phone conversation with Patricia.

  “Yeah. Pats just forgot to give you our business card, so…,” she straightened back up, rummaged through her purse and produced her business card. “Here is mine.”

  “Thanks.” He took the card and ran his finger over the edge.