Sugar and Ice (Raptors Book 4)

by RJ Scott

  “You can’t fall for the eyes, dude,” Logan warned him after the second time.

  Lizzie shoved her dad from behind and all three of them ended up bundling into a snowbank, Vlad on the bottom.

  All I can say is that I was sure it washed off most of the remaining glitter.

  We separated into two teams for a snowball fight, Vlad and I on opposing sides. Getting a face full of snow was worth it if the two of us were rolling in the white stuff. Losing to Vlad’s team was a bit of a shit, but my big sister was missing from my team, and Josie had a demon throwing arm.

  By the time we went back to the house for everything that was laid out–cookies, hot chocolate, cakes of all kinds, sandwiches, and chips–Josie had her feet up and was eating from a tub of Ben and Jerry’s, I reached for Vlad’s hand and squeezed it. So brief a person could’ve missed it. But the touch was enough.

  On the flight back to Arizona we were both quiet and lost in thought, and thankfully none of the attendants were hockey fans, not in the slightest.

  “Someday I would like a family,” Vlad murmured, and I turned to face him.

  “For real?”

  “I’m thirty-five, I’m ready to…” He frowned. “How many more years do I have? In hockey, I mean?”

  My chest constricted, imagining a team without Vlad.

  “We need to get the cup first,” I encouraged.

  “Maybe we will, maybe we won’t, but one day I’d like to work with teenagers, not babies, not little ones, but the ones who are questioning, or scared, who want to play hockey, or ballet, who need someone. That would be my family.”

  I nodded. “That would be a wonderful family.”

  “And you’d be there as well.”

  We didn’t have to touch to look each other in the eyes, our gazes locked.

  “I’ll be right by your side.”

  Epilogue

  Vlad

  There wasn’t much that could lure me from a warm bed with an ever warmer Tate sharing it with me. Aside from Easter service. Even knowing I wished to rise and attend mass, I lingered there for a few moments, enjoying the way the sun was warming his face, highlighting the small glints of russet in his dark hair, and shining on the fading love bite that I’d left on his right buttock a few nights ago. Unable to stop myself, I cupped that firm cheek and my dick began to fatten up. Knowing if I lingered much longer Tate’s body would keep me abed, I pulled away from temptation. When I spoke to my mother later today she would ask if I’d been to church and I would have to say I had not. Then I would be scolded. So, yes, leaving bed and Tate simply had to take place.

  In Russia, our Pashka, or Easter, is one of the biggest holy days. Even bigger than Christmas. The faithful and the atheists, the young and old, the rich and poor, all attend Easter Mass. And so it was that I’d woken up groggy after a late night celebrating our wild card slot with our teammates to attend church even though I longed for more sleep. We had worked hard to get here, but the fates had also been kind. Our team had turned things around after the All-Star break in late January. We’d burrowed in deep and fought tooth and nail for every damn win we could get our greedy hands on. Climbing slowly out of the muck at the bottom of our division point by point. Last night’s celebration at Colorado’s had been well warranted. Even Coach had shown up with Mark, to kick up their heels. He wore a white cowboy hat which held some sort of American symbolism to him, although he was Canadian. No one ever said hockey players made sense.

  Securing that wildcard position in the Pacific division had been a convoluted affair which had come down to us having to win and two other teams having to lose, as well as mathematical equations and three spits over my left shoulder for luck. We would be facing off against a physical Las Vegas Rollers team in two days. Our flight to Vegas left early tomorrow so Tate and I could share a holiday dinner at my condo, just him, me, Frank, and Obi. I was looking forward to this brief respite from the rigors of hockey, and some time in a house of worship. It had been a year. It was time.

  I’d not been able to locate a Russian Orthodox church, but had found a small Greek Orthodox church in the Catalina Foothills. While I didn’t go often I did make a point to go at Easter, even though my American friends had already celebrated it a week earlier. Different calendars made for a confusing time of things. I felt a yearly meeting with God in his house was reasonable. I had much to thank the Maker for this year. I showered, shaved, dressed nicely, and left a note for Tate on my pillow.

  As I cruised to church, Taylor was singing “Gorgeous” and I had to smile at the lyrics and how they made me think of my lover. Yes, Tate was gorgeous, and open, and submissive, and mine. Fully and without question, even if we had separate addresses and were unable to display our affection for each other in public.

  We’d become quite good at subterfuge over the past several months. Telling my neighbors that he often had to spend a few days with me because of his place being fumigated for bugs, or being painted, or having to have plumbing work done. They had to wonder why he lived in such a terribly unkempt home. In truth, Tate was at my place more than his own anymore, which was why Obi now travelled with him. And why my parrot now hissed like a cat, then cackled like a maniac. The cat and the macaw were having some issues but with slow progress they were working out the kinks. Much like their owners. Most days we were fine with our lives and the secret we shared with only a select few but some days—birthdays or anniversaries or Valentine’s—were difficult. But we do not always get to have everything we desire in life. We would make do until I retired. Then we would see what the world condition was like and if my country had shifted from hatred to more acceptance. If not, then we would move onward somehow.

  The church appeared on my left, a tiny thing with a lovely steeple. Its white clapboards stood out against the desert pinks, purples, and tans that the noonday sun was bringing to life. I parked, dropped my keys into my front pocket, and weaved my way through the mass of cars in the packed parking lot. I slipped into the cool, dark interior, blessed myself right to left as I’d been taught, and then found a spot to sit in as the priest led the congregation in an opening prayer. Throughout the mass I kept to myself, head bowed, mind on my conversation with the Lord. While a few people may have thought they recognized me, for the most part I had time to reflect, thank God for the blessings he had given me, and ask him to possibly look over the Raptors, as we were good men who had worked so hard to right our sinking ship. God did love a reformed sinner, and no team in the league had sinned so badly or had worked so much for redemption as we had.

  When the mass was over I left as silently as I had entered, fished out my phone, and turned it back on. A flood of texts came in from the team, my brother, and Tate thanking me for the ass rub before I left but wondering why just the one cheek and not his cock. Blushing as I read his dirty text a mere ten meters from church, I smiled, nonetheless. Such a tease he was. I loved it, just as I loved him.

  I hurried home, eager to eat as I’d only had a slice of toast and a cup of coffee before leaving so we could have a traditional Russian Easter meal when I returned. I’d ordered in all manner of delicious foods from a Russian restaurant in Phoenix. It included Pashka, which was a dish made of curd cheese, nuts, raisins, and candied fruit shaped into a truncated pyramid to symbolize the tomb of Christ. We also had Kulich, a leavened consecrated Easter bread, beautifully decorated hardboiled eggs, and of course Makovnik, which was a poppy seed cake. Later we would feast on spring leg of lamb stuffed with garlic and anchovies, potato galette, and horseradish carrot salad. It had all looked wonderful when it had arrived. Tate had given the food a worrisome glance while muttering about a plain old honey ham with scalloped potatoes. Americans. So rigid about their oversized foods. He would have to learn to try Russian dishes if my plans for the summer came to fruition. As I pulled into my driveway, I pondered if I should tell him what my twin and I had discussed a week ago or keep it as a surprise. Perhaps an Easter gift would be nice…

 
As soon as I stepped into my house, I found my arms filled with Tate Collins. It was an enthusiastic greeting, his mouth finding mine as Frank chased the cat through the condo.

  “Mm, this is nice,” I whispered over his kiss-slick lips. “I was only gone for two hours.”

  “Two long hours with a cat and a macaw squabbling. It’s like having two kids.”

  He took me by the hand and led me to the sofa. “One cannot stuff a kid into a cage and give him a seed stick to chew on when he is being bad, at least to my knowledge.”

  He sat and tugged me down beside him. I flopped to the couch with a grunt, wiggling to face him. His hair was damp, his cheeks unshaven, his cocoa eyes infused with warmth as he gazed at me.

  “True. When we have our kids we’ll get them a playpen.”

  “Is that not much the same thing?” I teased, reaching up to touch his beautiful face. “I love that we talk now of children. How we will accomplish it I cannot say, but hearing you speak of that future with me fills my heart. I feel as if the heavens come to life in my breast when you say such things.”

  He scrambled over me, pushing me back into the cushions to kiss me until my breath was coming in huffs.

  “Are we still doing the Star Wars film marathon today, or do you want to do other things?” His question was a silly one. My stiff prick was already saying what it wished to do with this one day off.

  “Hmm, a movie about robots that be-boop-boop and laser swords—”

  “Light sabers.”

  “Ah, yes, light sabers. A movie about robots that be-boop-boop and light sabers or taking you back to my bed and tying you to the headboard. My, that is a most difficult decision.”

  His gaze ignited. “Is that what those silk scarves you bought are for?”

  “Perhaps. If you’re good and do as you’re told.”

  “Don’t I always?” He slithered off me, then made his way to the bedroom, tossing back hot looks as I slowly got to my feet. I’d tell him about the trip to Russia in the summer to meet my family later. Right now I was craving sugar.

  THE END

  Next for the Raptors

  School and Rock (Raptors 5)

  When Colorado Penn finds an unexpected package on his front step, his life will be changed forever.

  Colorado Penn is living the dream. Starting goalie for the Arizona Raptors when in season, lead singer for a hard rock band when summer rolls around. He’s the quintessential free spirit who’s making sure to enjoy all the carnal blessings of his athleticism and gritty singing voice. Now the Raptors are moving into their first playoff appearance in years, but the arrival of an unexpected package means that hockey may have to take a backseat to something way more important. Instead of the usual undergarments from adoring fans, he finds a newborn baby with a small note tucked under her carrier, naming him as the father. He refuses to give up his daughter and is determined to be the kind of father he’d dreamed of having. But to keep Madeline, he’ll need help, and he’ll need it fast. Enter handsome emergency manny, Joseph. They may be opposites, but Colorado starts to see that Joseph’s stable, calm influence makes his chaotic lifestyle choices seem less appealing. There’s something about the man that soothes not only his infant daughter but also the wild child inside Colorado.

  Joseph is one year away from getting his degree in planetary science, working cover shifts at the planetarium, and pulling in income with short term manny gigs. Stars collide as he provides emergency childcare for the wild man of hockey, a man who moves so fast through life that he doesn’t know how to stop. Homeless, and caring for his niece, Emma, fate brings Joseph into Colorado and baby Madeline’s life. Madeline is a sweetheart, and Colorado is trying his hardest to make the best decision for his baby girl. He offers his home to Joseph and Emma and an indecent salary, to keep them in his life until summer’s end. Colorado brings mysticism and metal to Joseph’s sanctuary of science, but somehow Joseph needs to tame this shooting star and create a family. Nothing in the contract said Joseph had to fall in love to make that happen, but when it’s time for him and his niece to leave, will the void in his heart ever heal, or will it remain as cold as space itself?

  Hockey from Scott & Locey

  Harrisburg Railers

  Changing Lines (Book #1) | First Season (Book #2) | Deep Edge (Book #3) | Poke Check (Book #4) | Last Defense (Book #5) | Goal Line (Book #6) | Neutral Zone - A Christmas Novella (Book #7) | Hat Trick - A Stan/Erik Novella (Book #8) | Save the Date - A Wedding Novella (Book 9)

  Owatonna U

  Ryker (Book #1) | Scott (Book #2) | Benoit (Book #3) | Christmas Lights (An Owatonna Christmas Novella)

  Arizona Raptors

  Coast To Coast (Book #1) | Across The Pond (Book #2) | Shadows and Light (Book #3) | Sugar and Ice (Book #4) | School and Rock (Book 5) - October

  Authors Note

  If you enjoyed this book…

  …we would be incredibly grateful if you could leave a review somewhere on a retailers site, or Goodreads, or on your personal social media platforms.

  Reviews are the reason someone else might pick up this book – or start at the beginning of the series.

  Thank you.

  Hugs and kisses,

  RJ & V.L. xx

  MM Hockey Romance

  For up to date news and information on the Railers series, the next Railers book, a new series based on the Arizona Raptors, free short reads from your favorite characters, and lots of other hockey stuff, go here:

  www.mmhockeyromance.com

  Also by V.L. Locey

  Lost In Indigo

  Mathieu Beresford was so close to seeing his dream come true.

  The thirty-eight-year-old captain of the Buffalo Surge had led his team to the final round of the playoffs with his aggressive defensive play and leadership. During the first game of the championship series, he was taken down, and his leg snapped upon impact with the boards. From his hospital bed, Mathieu watched his team go on to win it all.

  Adrift in anger, resentment, and the new direction of his life, he returns to his mansion along the St. Lawrence River. Alone and sulking, Mathieu is not prepared for Indigo Neu to enter his life. The genderflux twenty-year-old botany major signs on to play nursemaid, confidant, and groundskeeper over the summer and slowly leads Mathieu out of his confusion––one tender smile and touch at a time.

  The deeper Mathieu falls, the more he wonders if being lost might not be so bad after all.

  The Colors of Love Series

  vllocey.com/colors-of-love

  The Point Shot series – MM Hockey Romance

  Now, you can have the books that introduced Victor Kalinski to the world in one reasonably priced boxed set! With over 350 Goodreads reviews and ratings combined, the romance of Vic Kalinski and Dan Arou is one that once read, will never be forgotten. In this three-book set, you’ll get to experience all the passion, sarcasm, hockey action, and romance that reviewers have called “Beautifully Written”, “Surprisingly Heartfelt”, and “Hot! Hot! Hot!”

  “The writing in this is snappy and awesome, the story moves at a great pace and oh it’s HOT AS EVER-LOVING HELL. There’s romance that never veers into a too-sappy place, it’s FUNNY and full of great lines right and left, and so engaging that I couldn’t stop reading it. The ending is satisfying, with our characters not becoming perfect people but becoming better together than they are apart, and that’s just about as romantic as it gets.” Avon Gale – Author of the Scoring Chances series.

  vllocey.com/books/point-shot-trilogy

  Also by RJ Scott

  Single Dads

  Bodyguards Inc

  Heroes

  Sanctuary

  Texas

  Legacy

  Montana

  Ellery Mountain

  And others - more details here: rjscott.co.uk

  Meet V.L. Locey

  V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and c
offee.

  (Not necessarily in that order.)

  She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and two Jersey steers.

  When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand.

  vllocey.com

  feralfemale@frontiernet.net

  Meet RJ Scott

  RJ is the author of the over one hundred published novels and discovered romance in books at a very young age. She realized that if there wasn’t romance on the page, she could create it in her head, and is a lifelong writer.

  She lives and works out of her home in the beautiful English countryside, spends her spare time reading, watching films, and enjoying time with her family.

  The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn't like it one little bit and has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.

  www.rjscott.co.uk | rj@rjscott.co.uk

  Newsletter - rjscott.co.uk/rjnews