Sin Bin (Denver Rebels Book 3)

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Sin Bin (Denver Rebels Book 3) Page 52

by Maureen Smith


  Meadow was leaning against the wall watching the other couples reunite when a burst of excited squeals filled the corridor. She turned to see Logan walking straight toward her, his long strides eating up ground. He’d changed into a tailored gray suit and was sporting a faint bruise on his cheekbone.

  She laughed as he picked her right up and swung her around.

  “Hey, champ!” She cupped his face, gave him a big smacking kiss and beamed. “What an amazing game! Congratulations!”

  “Thanks, baby.” He grinned as he held onto her, his hands cradling her butt while she looped her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. He smelled scrumptious. Like clean, delicious man and sweet victory.

  “Two goals and three assists,” Meadow gushed breathlessly. “I’m so impressed.”

  His eyes twinkled. “How impressed?”

  “Stupendously impressed.” She grinned wide, then brushed her fingers over his bruised cheek and made a sad face. “I hate seeing you fight.”

  “I know,” he murmured, nibbling her bottom lip. “Sometimes it can’t be helped.”

  “I know. That guy was a complete jerk.” She sighed. “But now you’ve broken your pact with Davion. What’re you gonna tell him?”

  Logan looked sheepish. “Well, technically, our pact was for the regular season. I never said anything about the playoffs.”

  She laughed. “Somehow I knew you’d say that.”

  He grinned and kissed her, his eyes gleaming suggestively. “Let’s go celebrate with the team. Then afterward we can have our own private celebration.”

  “Mmm,” she purred against his lips. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Reid, who was carrying Nadia in his arms, glanced over his shoulder at them. “You two coming?”

  “Not yet,” Logan said with a dirty grin. “But we will be.”

  Reid’s answering laugh was just as wicked. “I hear you, bro. I definitely hear you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  MEADOW

  “C’mon, logan,” meadow protested weakly the next morning as he caged her between his much larger frame and the bedroom door. “I really need to go.”

  “Why?” he grumbled, nibbling on her neck.

  She couldn’t think coherently with his body pressed against hers, his lips hot and soft on her skin. “Why what?”

  “Why do you have to go?” He sucked her collarbone, sending a flurry of delicious shivers through her. His arm circled her waist, dragging her closer as the thick ridge of his erection dug into her belly. “Why can’t you just stay here until I get back from practice?”

  “I told you,” she managed to choke out. “I’m supposed to run errands with Aunt Rosalie. But I’ll—” She broke off with a gasp as he outlined the swell of her breast with his finger, teasing and tweaking her nipple with his thumb.

  “You’ll what?” He used his teeth to tug her sweater down over the lacy cup of her bra.

  “I’ll be back in time for dinner,” she finished on a whimper, sinking her hands into his hair as she sagged back against the door. She couldn’t believe how turned on she was right now. She shouldn’t be this aroused after he’d kept her up half the night, rocking her world with one white-hot, bed-breaking orgasm after another. She couldn’t possibly have any orgasms left in her. No way. No—

  “Ohhh,” she moaned as he sucked her nipple into his mouth, sending a shaft of need spiraling to her core. “Logan…”

  “Stay.” He lashed her nipple with hot flicks of his tongue, making her arch and writhe against him. She could feel the relentless heat of his erection through his jeans, a burning brand that fed the throbbing ache in her core.

  She found herself panting and trembling as he kissed his way down her body, his open mouth all but searing her clothes right off. The pulsing throb between her legs begged for satisfaction.

  When he put his hands on her waist, she lifted her hips for him to pull her pink joggers off. Her damp panties followed.

  He licked the curve of her waist and bit her hipbone, then gripped her thighs and spread them apart with his big hands. She stared down at him, her heart thundering as she watched his dark head move between her shaking legs. When he sucked the tender flesh of her inner thigh, she cried out with shocked pleasure, her fingers tightening in his hair.

  “Logan…” She couldn’t stop saying his name, for all the good it did her.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” he rumbled.

  “But—”

  “Hush.” He lifted her right leg over his shoulder and licked her leaking slit.

  Her head thudded against the door, her eyes closing as the wet heat of his tongue drove any further protests from her mind.

  An hour later she staggered out of his penthouse and practically ran toward the elevator, convulsed in breathless giggles.

  Logan watched her from the doorway, chest bare, jeans unzipped. “Don’t be gone too long,” he called after her.

  “I won’t. Believe me.” With her body still buzzing from her gazillionth orgasm, she rode the elevator down to the garage and hopped into her car, peeling out of there before Logan changed his mind about letting her go.

  She grinned all the way to her aunt’s house. Just as she pulled into the driveway, her phone rang. When she saw Ephraim’s number, she felt a sharp pang of guilt. She was tempted to let his call go to voicemail, but she knew she couldn’t keep avoiding him. It was unfair to string him along when she was no longer available.

  She took a deep breath and answered. “Hello.”

  “Hello, yourself.” Ephraim sounded both relieved and disgruntled. “You’re a hard woman to get ahold of.”

  “I know.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I started my new job this week, so I’ve been preoccupied.”

  “I understand.” He gave a strained laugh. “I was beginning to think you were mad because you saw my Instagram.”

  She drew a blank. “Your Instagram?”

  “You don’t have to pretend. I’m sure you saw the pictures of the women I’ve dated over the years, and I’m sure you noticed that they’re all white.”

  “Um, well—”

  He barreled on defensively. “Yes, it’s true that the majority of women I date are white. I could tell you it’s because of proximity, that those are the only women I encounter on a regular basis. But the truth is that I’ve always been primarily attracted to white women, and I make no apologies for that.”

  Meadow frowned. “I’m not asking you to apologize, Ephraim. It’s none of my business who you date. I think people should be with whoever makes them happy.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that. Because I’m tired of having to justify my romantic preference to people.” He exhaled a pent-up breath. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I want to reiterate that I’m very attracted to you, Meadow. Your beauty. Your intellect. The way you carry yourself. Everything about you appeals to me. Honestly, you’re the first black woman—”

  Meadow was cringing. “Before you say another word, you need to know that I’m dating Logan.”

  There was a heavy silence on the other end.

  “You’re dating him,” Ephraim repeated slowly.

  “I am.”

  “I see.” His voice was tight. “When you left for Vegas, you and Logan were supposedly just friends.”

  “That’s changed.”

  Ephraim made a bitter sound. “So the bad boy jock wins again. Quelle surprise.”

  Meadow frowned. “It’s not about him being a jock. It’s about our shared history. About the powerful connection we have.” Her voice quieted. “It’s about me being in love with him.”

  “I see.” Ephraim’s anger and disappointment were palpable. “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

  Before she could respond, her aunt threw open the front door and waved at her. She smiled and waved back. “I have to go, Ephraim.”

  “Sure,” he said peevishly. “Good luck with your hockey stud. You’re gonna nee
d it.”

  Tell me something I don’t know.

  “Take care, Ephraim,” she said graciously, hanging up before he could say anything else. With his parting shot ringing in her ears, she grabbed her handbag and climbed out of the car.

  Aunt Rosalie met her at the front door, still wearing her bathrobe.

  “Sorry I’m late—”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m not even dressed yet.” Rosalie closed the door behind her. “You’re not gonna believe what happened!”

  Hope stirred in Meadow’s chest as she stared at her aunt’s excited face. “Did Gibson agree not to sue for full custody since you let him keep Cam this weekend?”

  “Not exactly. He hinted at dropping the matter if I agree to revisit our custody arrangement.”

  Meadow frowned. “Are you considering it?”

  “Maybe,” Rosalie admitted. “Cam needs his father. Gibson may have been a lousy husband, but he was always good to our son. Anyway,” she rushed on excitedly, “that’s not what I was talking about.”

  “What were you talking about?”

  “I just got off the phone with your dad. He broke up with Wendi!”

  Meadow gasped in shock. “Are you serious?”

  “As serious as a nun at communion!”

  “Oh my God.” Meadow felt a rush of relief quickly followed by concern. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine.” Rosalie grabbed her hand, drawing her down on the couch with her. She was so giddy she was practically bouncing up and down. “He wanted to share the news with you first, but I pried it out of him. You know how persistent I can be.”

  “I do.” Meadow grinned. “When did he break up with Wendi?”

  “Four days ago.”

  “Four days ago!”

  “He’s been processing it, trying to find the right time to tell you. He didn’t want you worrying about him, especially when you just started a new job.”

  “Oh, Dad.” Meadow sighed.

  “You can’t tell him I told you. Let him bring it up on his own the next time you talk to him. Don’t call him and make it obvious that you’re fishing for information.”

  “I won’t,” Meadow promised. “Now give me the deets.”

  Rosalie eagerly clapped her hands together. “He sat Wendi down and told her their relationship wasn’t working for him anymore. Apparently he’s been unhappy for quite a while. Shortly after she moved in, he realized they weren’t as compatible as he’d thought. It was little things at first. Her addiction to reality TV. The way she gossiped for hours on the phone. Her constant nagging about the foods he ate. Stuff like that. Gradually other things started to bother him—things he wouldn’t divulge out of respect for her.” Rosalie smiled a little. “That’s your father. A gentleman through and through.”

  “Yes, he is,” Meadow agreed softly.

  Rosalie patted her hand. “So what really put the nail in the coffin was Wendi’s animosity toward you. Harris said it wasn’t so obvious when they first started dating. I guess she did a better job of masking her true feelings, which women often do at the beginning of relationships. Once her mask started to slip, he didn’t like what he saw. He found himself constantly arguing with her about the way she talked to you. She tried to gaslight him. Tried to convince him he was only imagining things. All she succeeded in doing was making him madder and pushing him further away until he finally decided enough was enough.”

  “Wow.” Meadow shook her head in disbelief. “Logan predicted this would happen. He was totally right.”

  “Smart man, your Logan.” Rosalie’s eyes twinkled. “By the way, he played phenomenally last night. I wish I could have attended the game, but I had to work.”

  “It’s okay. You’ll be there tomorrow. Now finish telling me about Dad and Wendi.”

  The giddy smile returned to her aunt’s face. “After their talk, he asked her to move out by Friday. He was even kind enough to hire a moving truck for her. She didn’t go quietly. There was a lot of crying and screaming, and things were thrown at his head. Plates, vases, books—whatever she could grab.”

  Meadow winced. “Yikes.”

  “I know, right? Your poor father.” Rosalie laughed. “He says she left a bit of a mess, but he’s just relieved to have her gone. So am I.” She burst into song. “Ding-dong, the witch is dead! Which old witch? The wicked witch! Ding-dong, the wicked witch is dead!”

  Meadow put her hand over her mouth, trying to smother her giggles. She wasn’t quite successful.

  Rosalie grinned at her. “Don’t feel guilty for celebrating the departure of that horrid woman from your father’s life. God knows she overstayed her welcome.”

  “That’s true.” Meadow sighed. “I just wish this breakup cleared the path for Dad and Trish to be together. But Trish would never cross the line by dating her friend’s ex.”

  “Oh! That’s the other big news!” her aunt said excitedly. “Trish and Wendi had a huge falling out!”

  “What? When?”

  “The day after you and Logan left Vegas. Apparently Wendi was pretty upset with Trish for going to dinner with everyone—”

  “But she’s the one who told her to go,” Meadow protested.

  “I know! That’s what your father said! I guess Wendi was hoping Trish wouldn’t actually take her at her word. Your dad says she was furious when she came home from her book club meeting that night. The next day, she drove to Trish’s office and confronted her in front of her clients. She called her all sorts of names and accused her of trying to steal Harris behind her back!”

  Meadow gasped. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously! Trish was floored! She’s never done anything to warrant an accusation like that. I mean, you and I have always believed that she and Harris belong together, and I know you told me that sparks were flying between them over dinner. But those two have never behaved inappropriately with each other. I don’t think they were even aware of their mutual attraction until Saturday night. Anyway, Trish was totally blindsided when Wendi showed up at her office and made a scene. After her clients left, she and Wendi had the biggest argument they’ve ever had. Trish says it was ugly and Wendi said a lot of vicious, hurtful things. The kind of things you can’t take back. She told Trish she never wanted to see or speak to her again, then she stormed out and keyed Trish’s car! Can you believe it?”

  “I can’t. It’s absolutely insane.” Meadow was reeling. “I am so sorry Wendi took it that far.”

  “So am I.” Rosalie grimaced. “Trish was pretty devastated. She and Wendi have been friends for years.”

  Meadow shook her head. “Poor Trish.”

  “I know.” Rosalie sighed heavily. “She’s hurting now, but in the long run, she’ll see it was for the best. Wendi is a miserable shrew. She isn’t good for anyone.”

  “I agree. Trish deserves better. So does Dad.”

  “Absolutely,” Rosalie agreed. “I really hope those two give each other a chance. They could be so happy together.”

  “Totally.”

  Rosalie and Meadow sighed deeply and flopped back against the couch.

  After a few moments of silent contemplation, Meadow gave her aunt a sideways look. “What else has you so giddy this morning? I can tell you’re stoked about more than Dad’s breakup.”

  A big grin stole across Rosalie’s face. “You know me so well.”

  “I do. Now spill it.”

  Rosalie’s face positively glowed. “I received the most unexpected call this morning.”

  “Really?” Meadow felt herself grinning. “A call from who?”

  “Take one guess.”

  Meadow stared at her aunt in dawning amazement. “Are you telling me you got a call from Barrett? Dad’s best friend? The man you’ve been pining after since you were a teenager?”

  Rosalie laughed. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you!”

  They squealed and hugged, then broke apart and shared an ecstatic grin.

  “What did he say?” Meadow demanded. />
  “He’s in town on business, and he wanted to know if I was free for dinner. I couldn’t say yes fast enough!”

  They laughed and squealed some more.

  “I’m so nervous and excited,” Rosalie confessed breathlessly. “I haven’t seen Barrett in eight years. I was still living in Vegas when he came home that weekend. He and Harris went out drinking to celebrate his divorce. I remember wishing I was brave enough to tell him how I felt about him. But I was afraid of being rejected, and I knew the timing sucked.”

  Meadow smiled softly. “Barrett has always been my favorite of all Dad’s friends. He was so nice to me, he never forgot my birthday and he always brought me souvenirs from his travels.”

  “I know,” Rosalie said with a dreamy smile. “He’s amazing.”

  Meadow giggled. “You’ve still got it bad.”

  “Tell me about it.” Rosalie sighed.

  “Does Dad know Barrett’s in Denver?”

  “No. And you’d better not say a word.”

  Meadow pretended to zip her lips. “My lips are sealed.”

  “Good girl.” Her aunt jumped up from the couch and did a little shimmy, as giddy as an adolescent with her first crush. “Let’s hit the mall while we’re out. I need to find something to wear for dinner.”

  Meadow grinned. “You have a wardrobe full of designer clothes.”

  “True, but I want to wear something new. Something new for a possible new beginning.”

  Meadow’s grin softened into a smile. “I like the sound of that.”

  “You and me both.” Rosalie beamed and pirouetted out of the room, turning Meadow’s smile into warm laughter.

  She returned to logan’s penthouse shortly after five.

  She was wearing a short-skirted, low-cut tangerine dress with strappy black high heels. She’d bought the outfit during her shopping excursion with her aunt. It wasn’t the kind of dress she would have picked out on her own, but she loved the way she looked and felt in it. Saucy, feminine and ultra sexy.

  She parked in the secure garage and took the elevator up to Logan’s floor. When she reached his penthouse, she keyed in the access code. Before she could turn the doorknob, Logan yanked the door open and devoured her with a single scorching look that turned her bones to cinders.

 

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