by Kim Karr
Her cheeks flushed. “Me too.”
With her phone in her hand, she dug into her purse again, and this time pulled out her keys and looked at me. “Molly’s is closing so it can reopen to the public later tonight. James suggested you and I take the car back to the hotel and he and Logan will take a cab back later.”
“Oh,” I said, a little surprised that Logan hadn’t called me to tell me himself, but then I remembered why. “I have to go back there—my purse is locked up in the backroom along with my phone.”
She grimaced a little. “Let me tell James to get it for you. I guess Logan is more than a little drunk, and James thinks it’s best if he sobers him up before they rejoin us.”
“Oh,” I found myself saying again. “Maybe he needs me.”
“Nonsense, he’ll be fine with James. James was very fond of Logan’s grandfather and I think they want to reminisce and have some boy time.” She plucked the card from my hand. “Let me pay for this and we’ll have a girls’ night in. We can rent a movie and raid the candy in the minibar.”
Worried about Logan, I found myself saying yes just so I would know what was going on. Besides, I didn’t seem to have any other choice without my purse, and I also wasn’t about to leave Logan alone.
Lindsay and James were staying in a very familiar Four Seasons suite. It was the same suite Logan had been living in when we met, before his grandfather blocked his access to his trust fund and his own money started to run out.
It was after ten and the movie Lindsay and I were watching had just ended, but no guys had come to the hotel yet. I was more than a little worried about Logan.
Lindsay jumped up. “Let’s go find a store that sells Ben & Jerry’s. I’m still hungry.”
My eyes skittered over the candy wrappers littered on the table. “You’re going to get a sugar high.”
She laughed. “I’m already on one. I need to keep it going. Besides, I’m going to go stir-crazy waiting for them.”
Standing up and stretching, I conceded. “I think there’s a store around the corner. But I’ll go only if you call James when we get back and find out where they are.”
She nodded. “Okay, deal.”
The expedition on foot to find the small convenience store took longer than I’d anticipated, and by the time we got there it was closed.
With no ice cream but a few bags of chips from a vending machine, we headed back to the hotel. I had to work in the morning, but sleep wasn’t what was on my mind. Logan was.
We passed a strip bar and she bumped my hip. “We could go in and when we get back, I could call James and tell him I watched naked women dance. I guarantee that would bring him back fast.”
Shaking my head, I was horrified at the thought, but at the same time, I laughed a real, genuine, from-the-belly laugh. I liked Lindsay. She was free-spirited about sex in a way I’d never been. She was also a nice person. I could see myself being friends with her.
The coolness of the night air had begun to set in. With the suddenly harsher wind, we both felt the chill and even in our heels, we hastened our pace.
As soon as we walked into the hotel suite, I was assaulted by the tang of a sticky, sweet scent. It was the smell of pot. Never one to try it myself, in my travels I’d come across many people who had. Moldy grass was how I’d always described the smell.
Lindsay shot me a glance and confirmed my suspicion.
Hard rock blared through the open space. The patio doors were open and I saw the back of two heads flopped on the lounge chairs. Even over the music, I heard laughter rumbling into the room. I was glad that at least Logan was upbeat.
Lindsay started for them and looked at me. “Shhh.”
I followed, keeping my mouth shut.
We both approached, eager to see our men, but stopped at the edge of door to watch them. They were playing cards and a baggie of pot was on the floor.
James had changed and was now wearing sleep pants and a T-shirt. He had a cigar gripped between his teeth while he tossed two piles of cards onto the table between them.
Logan was still in his suit pants but had removed everything else. Everything. Outside in his pants only, I wondered how he wasn’t freezing until I looked up and saw the heat lamps were on.
“Baby, you’re going to stink,” Lindsay said loudly, breaking the silence.
Both men jerked their heads back.
The smile that spread across Logan’s face was slow and seductive.
Sexy.
The sight of him dried my throat and made my heart pound. Right then I didn’t care about anything but comforting him through kisses.
Lindsay was still talking, saying something about the rancid smell of the cigar.
Me, I was already leaning over Logan and placing my lips very close to his. “Are you okay?”
“I am now.”
“You sure?”
He nodded and said, “Don’t listen to James. He likes to be a drama queen.”
“I heard that.”
Ignoring James, Logan gave me a single tug and pulled me onto his lap. I found myself provocatively straddling him. His cards fell to the floor, but I heard no one complain. And then his hands anchored my hips as his mouth attacked mine, while my hands gripped his shoulders for support.
“Where are your clothes?” I managed to ask.
The corners of his lips tilted up. “We had a small wrestling match and my shirt took the brunt of the action.”
I laughed.
Boys will be boys.
My dress had ridden up and if anyone was looking, they could see my panties. I just didn’t care enough right then to see what James and Lindsay were doing.
I should have cared. I should have cared just how inebriated or high Logan was. I should have, but his primal response to my presence did something to me that made me want to be what he needed. Made me want to be wild and free for once in my entire life.
Maybe it was the Lindsay effect.
His kiss traveled from the corner of my mouth, along my jaw, to my throat.
My hands moved higher to toy with his hair behind his neck.
His teeth were sharp as they skidded across my skin, but the soft heat from his tongue soothed the burn.
I turned my head to give him full access, and that was when I saw Lindsay’s head moving towards James’s lap.
Again, I should have cared, but I just didn’t.
I wasn’t sure if Logan noticed, but he turned my chin to look at him. “We should go home,” he slurred. The way his eyes flickered over me so intensely made the idea of waiting for a cab and then riding home in one seem like it would take a lifetime.
With my hands flat on his bare chest, I found myself scooting up his body, stopping only when the soft fabric of my wet panties aligned perfectly with the tented fabric of his slacks. “I want you now,” I whispered.
Logan’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips. “I’m drunk, probably not the best idea.”
I raised myself ever so slightly and lowered my body, making the most exquisite contact with his erection. “I’m not and you seem just fine.”
His hand stroked my hair and pulled out the clip holding it up. “You want this? Here?”
My breath was wild. My nipples taut. My clit was pulsing. I realized I was excited. “Yes, I want you to take me here.”
His gaze slid to the side and so did mine. James was thrusting into Lindsay’s mouth. “James!” Logan shouted.
A grunt was his only reply.
“Hurry up and get the fuck inside, will you.”
Again, a grunt was his response.
Logan’s attention back on me, his hands threaded through my hair and slid over my shoulders and down my arms to capture my hands. He pressed our palms together so that our fingers were linked and drew in a shuddering breath. “You’re so beautiful. You know that?”
“I love you.” I’m not sure why I felt compelled to tell him that, but the way he looked at me when I did made me feel like we’d both found tr
ue love in each other, and all the worries that messed with my thoughts evaporated as his gaze flared. All that mattered was him. Comforting him. Getting him through this. Being here—for him.
He brought me to him with a hand to the back of my head, holding me in place while he kissed me breathless, maybe hard enough that he might have bruised my mouth.
Again, I didn’t care.
The kiss went on and on and when he finally pulled away, I hadn’t had nearly enough of him. It was when my eyes fell to the bag of joints on the ground that I realized Logan did not taste of thyme or moldy grass or smell like skunk, and I was a little glad that he hadn’t gotten high. I had a feeling he had struggled with drugs during his life and with my own father being an alcoholic, I was all too familiar with the claim that addictive habits were hereditary.
Another sideways glance on his part had my gaze following. “Finally,” he muttered. The lounge beside us was now empty, as was the living area. James and Lindsay must have gone into the bedroom. Logan must have been waiting for them to leave.
Knowing we were alone, lust won out over good sense and I stood and stripped myself naked.
Logan drew in a shuddering breath and stood as well, shedding his pants and underwear quickly.
I stared at him, naked and beautiful, and licked my lips. That card I’d seen in the store came to mind. Just because my issues might never allow me to be submissive didn’t mean I couldn’t be the dominant type.
He held out his hand for me to take it and instead I pointed to a chair next to the lounger. “Sit down.”
“Don’t you want to go inside?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, sit down.”
He raised a brow.
I kept my finger pointed.
No one could see us up this high and with the heat lamps on, something about fucking outside felt incredibly erotic.
A slow, seductive smile spread across his lips, and as he sat his eyes looked like dark flames. The hazel was gone, replaced by dilated pupils that bled pure lust.
Since I was already drenched, he easily slid inside me as I sat on his cock.
The sensation of him filling me made me shout out, and Logan wasn’t exactly quiet himself. I heard pleasurable groans escape his throat.
This was what we both needed.
Each other.
I just hoped it would be like this forever.
My hands were not bound but they gripped the chair, my back was to his chest, and my legs were spread wide. I was open to him. Fully and completely open to him. In this position, I was his to do with whatever he pleased.
It was then I realized that in our relationship we didn’t need a dominant or a submissive. We only needed each other.
And as his palm found my breast and his fingers pressed against my clit, I closed my eyes and relished what I had with him.
For us . . . give and take was all we needed.
DAY 30
LOGAN
“Let’s go to New York.”
“What?” she asked in surprise.
“Let’s go to New York,” I repeated.
“Why?” she sputtered.
Perched high on top of a ladder, I took the nail from my mouth and set the hammer down. “To get away. We can stay at my apartment in the city, go out to dinner with James and Lindsay, hang out with the gang, and do mindless tourist things I can’t stand even thinking about. You know, like going to the top of the Empire State Building or taking the ferry over to the Statue of Liberty.” With a wince, I added, “We could even see a Broadway show.”
“Logan, it all sounds wonderful, but you know I can’t leave the boutique. Rachel has Tuesday and Wednesday off and Peyton can’t manage things alone. I also have a schedule with Clementine that I like to keep to as much as possible. Routine is important for her right now.”
I picked the nail back up and pounded it into the wall. “I know all of that. I was thinking we could leave tonight after you close up and come back late Monday night, in time for the boutique to reopen on Tuesday. That way we won’t impact your work and your schedule with Clementine won’t need too much altering. It’s just one weekend away.”
She pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “It could work, but what about you? Don’t you have appointments?”
“I already checked and I don’t have any on Monday—my schedule is clear.”
Elle handed me the twin to the cuckoo clock that was already on the wall. “Do you really think it’s a good idea right now?”
I eyed the clock with disdain and then hooked it on the nail. “This? No.” I grinned. “But a weekend away with you, yeah, I do.”
She stared up at the clock. “That’s good, right there. And you know that’s not what I meant.”
I double-checked to make sure the clock wasn’t tilted and then waved my finger between them. “Are they going to go off at the same time?”
She nodded with a playful grin.
“Fuck.”
Her laugh sounded good. “I think you secretly want me to bring one home.”
I shook my head and caught her eye, seriousness taking over. “Elle, I’m fine. I know I’ve been in a bit of a funk and preoccupied with getting to the bottom of this drug ring over the last two weeks, but that’s why I need to get away. Everything is spinning and nothing is making sense. I just need to forget about my grandfather, Tommy, Patrick, about everything . . . even if it is only for a couple of days.”
Those green eyes, whose magic had spilled out into my life and changed it from a world of black and white to one where color actually seemed possible, looked contemplative. “It’s just that I don’t know if now is the right time.”
She’d been worried about me. That I wasn’t going to recover from my grandfather’s death. Sure, I’d been distant. Quiet. Gone a lot. Tracking endless leads taking me nowhere. Going on wild goose chases that only brought me back to the starting point. In my defense, my mind was constantly thinking and my body had to keep moving. It was how I coped. But I was Killian McPherson’s grandson, and he’d roll in his grave if he even sensed I’d let his death keep me down for too long. I looked over at her. I couldn’t believe how much I needed her. I couldn’t lose her. “I’m fine, or I will be as soon as all of this is over. Just hang in there with me. Give me some time to figure it out.” I was determined to find out who the Priest was and what his connection to O’Shea was. I felt like it was a big puzzle and all of the pieces fit in there somewhere.
Tears seemed to fill her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. And it’s not time that worries me. It’s you, going out there alone. Let your friends help you.” Her worry over me was evident. She didn’t like me going out on the streets on my own. Neither did Miles. Or Declan. I got it. Still, it was something I thought I should do by myself. But looking at her now, and after two weeks of getting nowhere, I knew it was time to stop being reckless and start being smart.
Climbing down the ladder, my grandfather’s voice came to mind. It’s not how you fall, Logan, he used to say, it’s how you get up that matters. Distancing myself from everyone hadn’t been on purpose, but his death had been a shock. The funeral was brutal and ever since, I’d been on a rampage to get to the truth. Every day I’d had to face the daunting reality that he was gone—because of me. It was harsh and tough to face. But my determination to make his death mean what he wanted it to mean—the freedom of my old man—was what had kept me grounded. Freeing my old man from the DEA was still on the table and that was what kept me moving forward, searching, looking, forging through all the shit. Even when it got me nowhere.
My old man surprised me. He was stronger than I’d ever thought he was. Somehow, he managed to stay away from the bottle. I knew it would take time for us both to truly accept that Killian wasn’t around anymore, but we both would in our way. We were the blood of a very strong man, after all.
As for why Patrick offered the swap of lives in the first place, that was pretty evident. Now up on RICO charges, his power was quickly dwin
dling, and getting rid of Killian was a power-play move. I’m sure in his own twisted way it somehow made him feel stronger, even behind bars, to have the authority to order a hit on the ex-mob boss. I’d made sure to put a crack in his shield, though. Let information slip on the streets that both Patrick and Tommy were going soft, turning state’s evidence against the gang. It was as much a lie as it was the truth, but I didn’t care. I wanted him out of play. Over the past two weeks the Blue Hill Gang had dismantled—every guy taking what he could and leaving town, or at least laying low. There had been no activity from any of them. Blanchet owed me one because chances were good that the Blue Hill Gang would completely dissolve very soon.
The information Tommy had told me about O’Shea still couldn’t be validated in any way. I had no idea if Tommy was telling the truth about his relationship with Lizzy, but my gut told me that it was at least partly true. Still, there were holes in his story. Mainly, how did Tommy know about the hit on my grandfather if he was out of the loop? Why would Patrick have told him? To gain his trust? To test him? Or was it possible someone in the organization leaked it to him? I had to find this out. It was key to trusting what Tommy had told me.
Then again, if I really thought about it, more than likely Tommy had killed Elle’s sister and wanted me to spend my time chasing something that wasn’t there. He wanted me to lose my mind thinking about Elle with Michael and wonder if he might do to her what he’d done to his wife. That was much more his game than the fact that a woman had stolen his heart and he wanted to avenge her death. No, he knew that was more my thing.
Regardless, I needed to get back inside to talk to him. See what I could find out about this Priest, but Miles couldn’t make it happen. I guess Tommy had spent a good two days in the clinic, and the explanation that it was a self-inflicted injury wasn’t holding up well with the higher-ups.
The only lead Miles had on where the Priest was located was where the drug deals were taking place, and that turned out to be a dead end. The cokehead Miles had found pointed out three buildings on the waterfront where the deals might have gone down. They all looked alike. No specific location could be identified. Absolutely no fucking help at all.