Sin Bin (Denver Rebels Book 3)

by Maureen Smith

  The wicked glint in his eyes told her he knew exactly what she wanted. Holding her gaze, he slowly removed his fingers from her body and brought them to his nose, breathing in her scent like a sommelier inhaling the aroma of a fine wine, letting it flood his senses.

  “I love the way you smell.” His voice was low and smoky with want. “I bet you taste even better.”

  She watched, breathless and hypnotized, as he slid his fingers between his lips, one by one, flicking his tongue over them, licking off the slick wetness of her juices.

  The action was so carnal, so sinfully erotic, that her stomach muscles clenched and she had to squeeze her eyes shut as he groaned with dark pleasure.

  For the first time ever, she understood how women became dickmatized. She hadn’t even had sex with Logan and he already had her under his spell. Sleeping with him would completely ruin her, she was sure of it.

  “Look at me, Meadow.”

  She dragged her eyes open and met his hooded gaze. He was still too close to her, the heat of his big body searing her nerve endings and scrambling her thoughts.

  She put her hand on his hard chest and pushed. He didn’t budge.

  “Logan.” His name tasted as dangerous as he looked in that moment. “Please.”

  He watched the word fall from her lips, then lifted his eyes to hers and searched them for a long moment.

  Finally he grunted and fell back in his seat, spreading his legs to make room for the massive erection tenting the front of his suit pants.

  She jerked her eyes away and pulled her dress down, smoothing the material over her thighs.

  Logan watched her hands almost enviously. “So what’re we gonna do about this? And don’t pretend not to know what I’m talking about. This thing between us, this insanely hot chemistry we have. What’re we going to do about it?”

  “We’re not going to do anything,” Meadow said simply. “You don’t do relationships, and I’m not looking for one.”

  “We don’t have to be in a relationship to enjoy each other.”

  She twisted her lips at him. “I’m not gonna be your fuck buddy.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “No, dammit.” He gave her a disgruntled frown. “I’ve never heard you drop the eff-bomb before. I don’t think I like it.”

  She shot him a look of disbelief. “You drop eff-bombs all the time!”

  “Of course I do. I’m a hockey player.”

  “So?”

  His lips slid into a crooked grin. “As the late Gordie Howe famously stated, ‘All hockey players are bilingual. They know English and profanity.’”

  Meadow rolled her eyes. “The point is, I don’t want us to be fuck buddies or friends with benefits or whatever you choose to call it. I’m really enjoying our friendship—”

  “So am I.”

  “Good. Then you’ll agree that we should keep it platonic.”

  Logan snorted. “Hate to break it to you, angel, but that train left the station the night we kissed under that tree. Since then we haven’t been able to keep our hands or mouths off each other. At the rate we’re going, it’s only a matter of time before we make love. And I can’t pretend that I’m not looking forward to it. In fact,” he added, his voice deepening, “it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that I’ve never anticipated anything more in my life.”

  Her body heated at his words. She didn’t want to admit even to herself that she felt the same way.

  “Sex doesn’t have to be a foregone conclusion,” she told him. “Yes, we’re incredibly attracted to each other, but we don’t have to keep acting on that attraction. We can both endeavor to resist—”

  He barked out a laugh.

  She frowned. “I’m serious.”

  He stared at her. “So you really think it’s possible for us to fight this kind of chemistry?”

  “We can at least try. We’re not animals.”

  “You make me feel like one. Wild and savage, out of control.” He dragged in a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. “Just so you know, this is the third time in a week that I’ll be going home with blue balls.”

  “Sorry.” She bit her twitching lip, keeping her gaze well above his crotch.

  He puffed out a frustrated breath and shoved his hand through his hair. “I don’t want you going out with that guy.”

  “Ephraim?”

  “Yeah. Him.”

  “Why don’t you want me to go out with Ephraim?”

  “I just don’t.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You can’t tell me what to do. You know that, don’t you? I’m not yours—”

  He said something under his breath that sounded like “The hell you aren’t.” But she must have heard wrong. There was no way he would make such an absurd claim. But then, given the way he turned her body to putty, maybe the claim of ownership wouldn’t be so absurd after all.

  She sighed. “We’re friends, Logan. Friends don’t get a say in who their friends choose to date.”

  His jaw flexed and his hand gripped the steering wheel, the flesh of his knuckles whitening. “Besides him teaching astronomy, what else do you see in him? He seems uptight and boring as fuck.”

  Her chin lifted. “Some people might say the same thing about me. I’m not exactly the life of the party.”

  Logan snorted. “There’s nothing uptight or boring about you, Jupiter. There’s nothing boring about a woman who squeals at the top of her lungs while riding on the back of a Harley. There’s nothing uptight about a woman who kisses with such insatiable hunger and climaxes with such intensity.” His eyes drifted over her face, watching her blush and bite her bottom lip. “You’re exciting and fun to be with. And you turn me the hell on, which should be pretty fucking indisputable by now.”

  Her eyes dropped to the thick bulge of his erection, still straining against his pants. Did that thing ever shrink?

  “Not when you’re around.”

  Her eyes flew up to his. Had she spoken out loud?

  His darkly amused gaze told her that, yes, she had.

  More heat rushed into her cheeks before she swallowed and turned to look out the windshield.

  “You don’t even want a relationship,” Logan grumbled, returning to the original topic. “You just said yourself that you’re not looking for one. And before that you told me you want to focus on starting your new job and getting your bearings.”

  “That doesn’t mean I can’t make new friends. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you move to a new town?”

  Logan gave a harsh snort. “Ephraim doesn’t wanna be your friend. He wants to fuck you.”

  “I’m sure he does.” Meadow smiled, still staring out the windshield. “He called me beautiful and said I have killer legs.”

  “You are beautiful,” Logan growled in frustration, “and you do have killer legs. I couldn’t take my eyes off them all night, and clearly I wasn’t the only one.”

  Her smile deepened.

  He shook his head at her. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you enjoy driving me crazy.”

  “I don’t. Believe me.” She picked up her satin clutch off the floor. “I’d better go inside before my aunt looks out the window and thinks we’re making out in your car.”

  “We were making out in my car.”

  “She doesn’t need to know that. Neither does Cam.” When Meadow reached for the door handle, Logan stopped her.

  She heaved an exasperated breath. “C’mon, Logan—”

  “I’m not gonna hold you up. I just wanna open your door. Can you let me do that for you when we’re together?”

  Her insides warmed with pleasure. She gave him a soft smile and nodded.

  He helped her out of the car and walked her to the front door.

  As they stood facing each other, she said shyly, “Well, um, thanks for an…eventful evening.”

  His eyes glinted in the porch light. “I enjoyed being with you.”

  She smile
d. “I enjoyed your company, too.”

  Before she could stop him, he cupped her face and slanted his mouth over hers. His kiss was searing but so tender that it almost frightened her.

  She clutched the lapels of his suit jacket, her bones melting and her legs nearly buckling before he released her mouth.

  She shivered as he pressed his lips to the top of her head and leaned his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes.

  “You’re still coming to the game in Vegas, right?”

  “Yes.” Her heart was fluttering like a trapped bird. “I’ll be there.”

  She no longer had the strength or the willpower to stay away from him.

  She was beginning to wonder if she ever did.

  Chapter Sixteen

  LOGAN

  “Yo, brassard,” marek dubinski said to Logan the next day on the golf course. “What’d you do last night?”

  “Hung out with some astronomers at a cocktail reception.”

  “Ha! Good one.” Dubinski grinned and clapped Logan on the shoulder. “No, seriously, man. What’d you do?”

  “That is what I did.”

  Dubinski wrinkled his brow in confusion. “Why would you hang out with a bunch of science geeks when you coulda been banging hot bunnies?”

  Logan gave him a dry look. “Maybe I’m trying to broaden my horizons.”

  Dubinski looked even more confused. He glanced at Hunter, who merely shrugged. Then he looked back at Logan, narrowed his eyes and wagged his blond head in disappointment. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, Brassard. You’re no fun anymore.”

  Logan gave him his best wounded look. “That really hurts my feelings.”

  Dubinski snorted before teeing off and swinging his club at the ball. It bounded off the fairway into a stand of palm trees.

  “Aw, man,” he groaned in frustration. “Not again!”

  Hunter chuckled. “Better luck next time.”

  “Easy for you to say. You’re like Tiger Woods out here—before the sex scandal.” Dubinski scowled and stalked off with his caddie.

  As they drove away in a golf cart, Logan looked at Hunter and shook his head. “Isn’t Dubs supposed to be dating Nadia’s friend?”

  Hunter chuckled. “I believe so. But that won’t stop him from trying to live vicariously through you, like most of the guys on the team.” His eyes glinted. “Can you really blame them? Your exploits are legendary.”

  Logan grimaced and scratched his ear. For the first time ever, he was embarrassed about his womanizing reputation.

  It was Sunday afternoon and the Rebels were in Florida to play the Panthers tomorrow night. After checking into their hotel and grabbing some lunch, several of the guys had headed to the golf course for a three o’clock tee time.

  Hockey players loved to golf. What could be more relaxing than standing around drinking beer, socializing between shots and hacking away at a ball without overtaxing their bodies?

  Hunter’s golf game was masterful. If he wanted, he could definitely turn pro after retiring from hockey. Reid and Viggo were pretty good, too. Logan’s game was less than stellar, but at least he could keep his balls on the fairway. He’d much rather be playing pool, but the guys got tired of him mercilessly kicking their asses.

  He and Hunter were the last ones at the seventeenth hole. Reid, Viggo, Dubinski, Sergei Vasiliev and Dmitri Fedorov had already moved ahead to the next tee box.

  Logan lined up his shot, gripped his club and took a mighty swing. His ball bounced down the middle of the fairway and stopped just short of the green.

  “Not bad.” Hunter raised an amused eyebrow at him. “So were you really hanging out with astronomers last night?”

  “I was.” Logan smiled. “Jupiter just joined the local astronomical society, and they had a cocktail reception to welcome new members. She wanted to go so I went with her.” He gave a thoughtful pause. “Did you know that if you could fly to Pluto, the trip would take more than eight hundred years?”

  Hunter’s eyes glittered with amusement. “I did know that, actually.”

  “Of course you did, all that knowledge rattling around that big brain of yours.” Logan rolled his eyes in mock disgust, earning a laugh.

  After Hunter played his next shot, they headed to the eighteenth tee with their caddies trailing after them.

  Hunter gave Logan a sidelong grin. “So are you and Meadow gonna be attending astronomy functions now?”

  Logan glanced away with a shrug. “I don’t know.”

  “Didn’t you have a good time?”

  Logan hesitated. “Yes and no.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Logan sighed, still trying to process the events of last night. He hadn’t meant to blurt out that sappy confession to Jupiter, and he cringed just thinking about it. But his emotions had been all over the place after seeing her with that astronomy professor. The sight of them talking and flirting had made him so fucking jealous he couldn’t see straight. And he’d almost lost his shit when the douchebag had the audacity to ask her out on a date.

  Once Logan had her alone in his car, things had gotten out of control pretty quickly. The arguing and shouting were regrettable. But what came next…holy hell.

  Prior to that, he’d still been trying to recover from their super-hot make-out session in her aunt’s basement. The memory of it had dominated his thoughts as he drove across town to pick her up for the reception. He’d been in trouble the moment she opened the door wearing that sweet little cocktail dress that exposed the silky skin of her shoulders. When his eyes traveled downward, the sight of her sexy bare legs had instantly kicked his libido into overdrive. He’d wanted to run his hand under the tantalizing hem of her dress and find the hot slickness between her thighs.

  So that’s pretty much what he’d ended up doing.

  And he hadn’t wanted to stop there. He’d wanted to drag her onto his lap and fuck her right there in his car, to hear her scream his name over and over as he pounded into her.

  Two cold showers and three jerk-off sessions later, his body was still aching for her. And he had a bad feeling the ache wasn’t ever going to go away.

  He and Hunter had reached the eighteenth tee. They were the last to play their final shots. Hunter was comfortably in the lead, but that was no surprise. He always beat everyone and today would be no exception.

  After firing off his shot, Logan hitched his chin at Hunter. “Let me ask your opinion about something.”

  Hunter crouched down to line up his ball. “I’m listening.”

  “How would you feel if you were on a date with a woman and another guy asked her out? Wouldn’t you be well within your rights to kick his ass?”

  “Hmm. Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “What’s the nature of my relationship with the woman?” Hunter asked.

  “You’re…friends.” Logan gritted out the word.

  “Just friends?”

  “Really good friends. As close as a man and woman can get without being lovers.”

  Hunter lifted one eyebrow in a silent question.

  Logan sighed and looked at the sky. “You’re becoming sort of…preoccupied with the woman. You enjoy being with her, you think about her constantly when you’re apart and you get pretty excited about seeing her again.” He swallowed. “But, yeah, she’s just a friend.”

  “I see.” Hunter surveyed the fairway, visualizing his shot. “So this friend and I are on a date, you say?”

  “Yeah,” Logan said vigorously. “You’re both dressed up, most of the other people are dressed up, and there’s champagne and fancy hors d’oeuvres. It totally meets the definition of a date.”

  “Certainly sounds close.” There was a glimmer of amusement in Hunter’s eyes as he rose to his feet. “So am I standing beside the woman when the other guy approaches?”

  “No,” Logan grumbled darkly. “You’re off somewhere mingling because people recognized you and want to talk to you, and your date
isn’t really comfortable in social settings even though it was her idea to attend the reception. You want to be with her, but you don’t want to bring the crowd around her because the presence of too many people seems to make her feel claustrophobic. So you laugh and socialize while keeping a close eye on her because you want to make sure she’s okay and, dammit, she looks good enough to eat. Every time you try to go to her, you get pulled into another conversation or another group selfie. You’re starting to get frustrated, but you don’t want to be rude by telling people to fuck off, especially when one of them graciously fixes you a plate. While getting your ear talked off, you turn your back for one freaking minute to grab some hand sanitizer and shove a few hors d’oeuvres in your piehole. By the time you turn around, the other man has made his move. And your beautiful date is laughing and smiling at the fucker like he’s her fantasy guy come to life.” Logan scowled, seeing red all over again.

  Hunter was grinning at him. “Why doesn’t this sound like a hypothetical scenario anymore?”

  “Because it’s not. Which you damn well know.”

  Hunter laughed and shook his head. He hadn’t taken his shot yet, but nobody would dare rush him. They knew better.

  He took a club from his caddie and examined it. “So what does the guy do?”

  “He teaches physics and astronomy. He has a Ph.D.,” Logan added, mimicking Ephraim’s pompous tone.

  “Ah.” Hunter nodded wisely. “Hence why he would be her fantasy guy.”

  “Because he has a doctorate?” Logan growled.

  “Because he shares her passion for astronomy.” Hunter studied Logan’s eyes in that unnerving way of his. “That’s really what’s bothering you, isn’t it? You’re afraid of her having more in common with the professor than you. You’re afraid of them sharing such a powerful connection that they end up getting married and having little astronomer babies with genius IQs.”

  Logan swallowed hard and gritted his teeth, a muscle in his jaw ticking like crazy as Jupiter’s gut-wrenching words replayed in his head. Since I didn’t become an astronomer, marrying one would be the next best thing.