by Nicola Marsh
But she’d expected better of Harry. He’d been her idol, her friend, her confidante and he’d screwed her over regardless.
Hope blinked several times to dispel the moisture from her eyes and continued traversing the pub. A few old men sat at the bar, locals probably, from the way they bantered with the barman. Logan caught sight of her and stood. He didn’t wave. He didn’t smile. He just stared at her, jaw set, gaze steady, and she felt that damn jolt again arrowing between her legs.
She’d made the right decision in coming here.
She needed one night.
One night of fast and furious sex to dispel this weird fascination for him.
Then she could return to furthering her goal in setting up the best indie record label this city had ever heard.
She strode towards him, intent on appearing poised, when in fact the closer she got the more her confidence fled and her legs wobbled like just-set jelly. The empty sensation in her stomach intensified when she reached him and a slow, knowing smile spread across his face, as if he could see into her horny soul.
‘You wanted to see me?’ He pulled out a bar stool for her and she slid onto it, relieved to have it holding her up rather than her traitorous legs.
‘Yes, thank you for agreeing to meet me.’ She sounded so stilted, so formal, his grin widened.
‘Every time you open your mouth I feel like I’m being addressed by royalty,’ he said, leaning in to murmur in her ear. ‘Except when you kissed me, of course.’
‘You kissed me,’ she said, intent on reprimanding him when in fact her voice came out breathy.
‘So I did.’ He chuckled and straightened, and she immediately wished he’d return to whispering in her ear. ‘Got to say, Princess, you surprised me.’
‘The underwear thing?’
‘Yeah. That.’ His eyes darkened to indigo as his jaw clenched. ‘Pretty fucking hot.’
His husky tone rippled over her like a caress and she squeezed her thighs together. It did little for the ache only he could assuage.
Here went nothing. ‘That’s actually why I wanted to see you.’
His eyebrows shot up but he remained silent, meaning she’d have to spell it out.
‘I...um... I want to finish what we started in the studio.’
The words tumbled out in a rush and she held her breath. Mortification tightened her stomach and a tingling swept up the back of her neck. Fantasising about riding him was one thing, articulating it quite another.
His lips curved with amusement—he knew exactly how uncomfortable she was—and she clamped down on the urge to bolt.
‘You mean the quote?’
He was being deliberately obtuse. She could see it in the teasing glint in his eyes, and hear it in his taunting drawl.
‘I’ve approved the quote and already wired a deposit so, no, I don’t mean the quote and you damn well know it,’ she said, ending on a huff. ‘Do you need me to spell it out for you?’
‘Yeah.’ He stepped in close again and trailed a fingertip down her forearm. ‘I want to hear you say it.’
Her breath hitched when he reached her wrist and circled her pulse point, over and over, slow and concentric, before moving on to her palm and doing the same thing. Her skin prickled all over, like tiny zapping stings from touching one of those weird static electricity balls.
He lifted her palm to his mouth and pressed an open-mouthed kissed to it. ‘You want me to fuck you.’
She nodded and mimicked him, her voice barely above a whisper. ‘I want you to fuck me,’ she said, and bit her bottom lip to stop from moaning as his tongue darted out to give her palm a little lick before he released her hand.
‘Good, because I can’t stop thinking about it either,’ he said, resuming his seat. ‘I like a woman who speaks her mind. Game-playing gives me the shits.’
She laughed at his typically blunt Aussie response. ‘So you’re up for it?’
He shot a glance at his groin and she did the same, delighted to see that sizeable bulge. ‘I’ve been up since I felt you up.’
Laughter burst from her lips again. It was rare for a guy to amuse her this much. She usually found the half-assed flirting guys used as foreplay rather tedious. With Logan, his words were getting her as hot as his touch. ‘So how do we do this?’
‘The polite way would be for us to have a drink, talk a little, before going back to my place or yours.’
‘And the impolite way?’
He took a moment to answer, his smouldering gaze dropping to her mouth. ‘I take you out the back and fuck you up against one of those artistic alley walls you love so much.’
Hope’s mother had lectured her from a young age that gaping wasn’t ladylike but she couldn’t help it. No man had ever spoken to her like this—and she liked it, a lot.
Apart from her habit of going commando, she’d never done anything remotely adventurous sexually. She liked the act itself and if she got off with the guy she considered it a bonus. Willem had been a considerate lover but bland. He’d never gone down on her but expected she blow him regularly. His selfishness right there should’ve alerted her to his asshole ways. And the six guys she’d screwed since had been vanilla all the way. None of them had wanted her so badly they did it up against a wall, let alone in public.
Resisting the urge to squirm, she eyeballed him. ‘I’m not thirsty and I think we’re all talked out.’
His eyes widened in surprise, with a healthy dose of respect for her brazenness thrown in. ‘Are you saying...?’
‘Time for you to show me exactly how impolite you can be.’ She stood and grabbed his hand before she could second-guess this crazy impulse. Her heart jackhammered at the thought of having sex in public, a potent mix of excitement and panic at the thought of being discovered. But she couldn’t walk away from him now, not when she craved him so badly she almost trembled.
He scrambled to his feet so fast they collided and she would’ve stumbled if he hadn’t steadied her, bringing her flush against that gloriously muscular chest. She rested her palm against it, over his heart, feeling the racing thud matching hers.
His eyes blazed a scorching indigo. ‘You strike me as a hearts and flowers kind of girl. You sure you want this?’
Her palm slid up to rest on his shoulder, an anchor for the out-of-control lust slamming through her. ‘I thank you for being a gentleman and giving me an out, but I’ve never been surer of anything. I want you. Inside me. Touching me. I want...it all.’
Saying it made her want to writhe against him and she gritted her teeth against the urge to squirm.
Doubt clouded his eyes as he gave a little shake of his head. ‘You deserve satin sheets, not a graffiti-covered wall at your back.’
‘I deserve...this.’ She slid her free hand beneath their bodies and cupped him, vindicated when he groaned.
No one told her what she wanted, not any more. Taking back control of her life involved more than moving a million miles from home five years ago. Her independence stretched to knowing exactly what she wanted.
Right now, she wanted Logan.
After what seemed like an eternity he nodded and tightened his grip on her hand. ‘Let’s go.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
LOGAN DIDN’T BREAK stride as he wound his way through the pub towards the back exit.
He should stop this madness, despite her bold assertion. But he had as much hope of reining in his rampant libido as he did of staying put in one city: absolutely none.
He’d had his fair share of women, some who’d worn their sexuality more overtly than Hope. But he’d never had any of them articulate so precisely what they wanted.
‘I want you. Inside me. Touching me. I want...it all.’
Fuck, her cultured voice reverberated through his head.
She wanted it all? He’d give it to her.
H
e understood. She wanted one fast fuck with a guy who was opposite to her. The princess slumming it with the fabled bad boy. Her walk on the wild side. Opposites attracting and all that crap.
He’d been intent on shocking her, throwing out that comment about alley sex as a challenge.
He’d never expected her to accept.
When they reached the door that opened out into the alley, he gave her one last chance to back out.
‘Once we go out there, it’s game on,’ he said, tugging her flush against him and grinding himself into her pelvis.
Defiant, she tilted her head back and their gazes locked. Her eyes glowed in the dim light cast from a single globe hanging from the ceiling and he saw her desire matched his.
‘Bring it on,’ she said, pushing him at the same time so that his butt hit the door and he backed through it.
Having her take control was a huge fucking turn-on and he grinned for the hell of it when she shoved him a tad hard against the wall and the back of his head clunked.
‘Shit, I’m sorry,’ she said, her stricken expression making him laugh.
‘Babe, I’m fine.’ He knocked on the top of his head. ‘This one’s as hard as the one in my pants.’
Her face cleared and she managed a rueful chuckle. ‘I’m so bad at this.’
‘No you’re not. You’re refined and cultured and not used to being corrupted by a horny tradesman with one thing on his mind.’
Her eyebrow arched. ‘And what’s that?’
‘Fucking you.’
She slammed her mouth against his and his head clunked the wall again. He didn’t care. The pain barely registered when she had her tongue in his mouth and her hand on his zipper.
‘Not here. More private,’ he said against the corner of her mouth, guiding her towards a sheltered nook he’d first discovered as a horny teen during his first year in Melbourne.
‘You’ve done this before,’ she said flatly, some of the fire draining out of her eyes.
‘I’ve made out with a girl here once, when I was nineteen.’
She took a moment to respond and when she did he knew it’d be a zinger by the quirk of her lips. ‘Practice for the real thing now.’
He laughed. ‘Something like that.’
Her smile faded as she slid her hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders. ‘I have no idea what’s gotten into me but I need this, you, so badly.’
There was a hint of wistful forlornness in her voice, as if wanting him confused her.
Join the club, lady. No woman had ever got under his skin so fast.
Taking her hand, he did a quick visual check of the area. Empty, apart from used kegs stacked neatly at the alley’s dead-end, creating the perfect nook he remembered. Back then, he’d wanted to go all the way with his date but she’d been a reluctant virgin. This time, he had a confident woman in his arms who had demanded what she wanted.
He tugged on her hand and eased her into the nook. As soon as they were shielded from the possibility of prying eyes from a late-night stroller at the other end of the alley, she was on him. Hands pawing, mouth devouring, leg hooked around his waist as if she wanted to climb him.
He grabbed her ass and lifted her, pinning her against the wall while her legs wrapped around him. She whimpered as he kneaded her ass and kissed his way down her neck, nipping at the tender skin and following it with a lap of his tongue. With every bite and lick she rocked against him, her breathing short and choppy.
‘Oh, yeah, so good,’ she murmured as he found her nipple through the thin material of her kaftan and playfully bit it.
She arched, her head flung back against the wall, eyes closed, the column of her neck smooth and pale in the wan moonlight. He’d never seen anything so beautiful, so erotic.
Gently easing one of her legs down, he backed away slightly. Her eyes flew open. Clouded and dazed, she stared at him, disoriented.
‘Why did you stop?’
‘Because I want to be inside you when you come.’
Approval glittered in her eyes as he lowered her to her feet, unzipped and made fast work of a condom from his wallet.
‘I knew you’d be big,’ she murmured, the tip of her tongue darting out to moisten her lower lip as she stared at his cock. ‘You felt huge back at the studio.’
‘Wait til you feel me inside you,’ he said, taking his cock in his hand and rubbing the tip against her clit.
‘Ooh...’ she sighed when he prised her thighs apart and slid his cock through her wet folds.
‘So good,’ she whispered, biting her bottom lip as he angled his pelvis to align with hers and nudged her entrance.
‘You’re so fucking wet.’ He slid in slowly, using every ounce of his shredded willpower to take this slowly when he wanted to pound into her.
As if reading his mind, she said, ‘I need to come. Now.’
Logan didn’t have to be asked twice. He lifted her thigh so she hooked a leg around his waist, opening her wider as he slid in to the hilt. She gasped as he slid out and did it again, savouring the feel of her tight pussy squeezing him.
‘More,’ she demanded, soft and breathy, so he obliged. Sliding out and driving in, over and over, knowing this wasn’t the place to prolong things but wishing he could.
She started panting and writhing so he slipped a hand between them and pressed his thumb to her clit.
‘Yes. Now. Please...’ Her head started rolling side to side as he circled her clit, the beginnings of his own orgasm clawing at him, tightening his balls, pooling in his lower spine.
‘Yes, yes, yes...’
He covered her mouth as she came apart, swallowing her cry of release as he thrust one last time and followed her into an orgasm that rocked him to his core.
Logan had no idea how long it took his mind and muscles to work in sync again but as he eased away to look Hope in the eyes he knew one thing.
One fast and furious fuck with this woman wouldn’t be enough.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HOPE CLUNG TO Logan’s hand as they re-entered the pub’s back door. She needed the support, considering her legs hadn’t recovered from that pounding he’d given her in the back alley.
Even now, after she’d come down off the high of that earth-shattering orgasm, she felt wobbly and a tad off-centre.
She’d never had sex in a public place before, had never contemplated it, but this crazy out-of-control yearning to have Logan had made her lose her mind.
And for the first time in her life she didn’t care.
Despite moving to the other side of the world to escape her parents’ overt disapproval, inside she was still the model daughter doing everything right for fear of being judged and found lacking. She never did anything outrageous and, discounting her penchant for not wearing underwear, she was conservative to her core.
So what she’d just done with Logan left her reeling, but in a good way.
He hadn’t spoken since they’d disengaged but the fact he’d taken her hand meant he hadn’t intended to ditch her as soon as the deed was done. Not that she’d blame him if he did. She’d made it more than clear what this was: a quick screw to satisfy an urge and thankfully, he’d obliged. They’d part ways inside the pub and she’d see him Tuesday morning when he arrived with his crew. No problems.
As they entered the main public bar, she heard the haunting strains of a guitar being strummed. Her feet slowed as the soft melody washed over her. Original. Untainted by commercialism.
Craning her neck, she spotted the sole guitarist perched on a stool, one leg outstretched, the other resting on a rung. He wore denim and a flannel shirt, and sported a buzz cut and five rings in his right ear, the only unconventional thing about him. When he started to sing, the hairs on her arms snapped to attention.
‘What’s wrong?’ Logan stared at her, confusion creasing his brow.
When she flashed a beatific smile, the creases deepened. ‘That guy is amazing.’
Logan gave a little shake of his head, as if he didn’t understand what the big deal was about. ‘Do you want to have a drink and listen to him for a while?’
‘I’d love to.’ Her feet were already moving towards the elevated table and bar stools they’d vacated not that long ago.
‘What’ll you have?’
‘G and T, please,’ she said, her attention riveted to the tiny makeshift stage and the guitarist.
His lyrics were average but that voice... Goose bumps peppered her skin and she rubbed her arms. He was exactly the type of talent she wanted to foster with her indie label.
Lost in the lush timbre and captivated by his masterful strumming, she jumped when Logan touched her on the arm. ‘Here you go.’
‘Thanks,’ she murmured, unable to tear her eyes away from the guitarist.
‘You’re giving me a complex, you know,’ Logan said, clinking his beer bottle against her glass. ‘I thought what happened out in that alley was pretty fucking great but now you can’t take your eyes off that dude playing a lame-ass song nobody’s ever heard of.’
She bit back a grin at the hint of vulnerability in his tone. ‘You’re a musical neophyte if you think that guy is lame.’
‘He is. Give me good old country and western any day.’
‘Each to their own.’ Hope smiled and patted his forearm. ‘Don’t be jealous. I’m only interested in him for his music. And you’re right; what happened outside was pretty damn fantastic.’
‘Good to hear,’ he said, clearing his throat to ease the gruffness. ‘So, my musically talented friend, what’s so great about this guy?’
‘We’re friends?’
He rolled his eyes and she chuckled. ‘There’s something unique about his voice. And his song writing isn’t bad. Throw in the fact he plays a mean guitar and he’s the kind of talent I’m after when I launch my recording label.’