by Elle Aycart
“So far so good. No pandemic drills, emergency evacuations, or twenty-year-old cheese. I’m digging it.”
“And the classes?”
“Good too. Haven’t your interns told you? Some of them are my students.”
They stood in front of each other for the longest time. She was not going to try coaxing his real reasons for visiting out of him. Let him sweat it.
“Do you have any plans for the weekend?” he finally asked.
“Tons,” she lied shamelessly. “Why?”
He shrugged, his gaze straying to the floor. “Nothing in particular. I just thought that now that I happen to be in town, maybe you’d like to come back to NoName with me for the long weekend.”
Now that he happened to be in town? Please.
“Why?”
He seemed confused. “Why what?”
“Why are you really here?”
He shuffled his feet, visibly uncomfortable. “I thought you might be bored in Paris.”
“Try again.”
“The weather has been shitty. I wanted to check up on you.”
Boy, his excuses sucked. “Again.”
“I…”
She stared at him for a long second. Watching him waffle was not as satisfying as she’d thought. “Let’s make this easier and get one thing out of the way.”
“What thing?”
“This.” She wiggled her finger at him to come closer. When he did, she went on tiptoe and gave him a peck on his lips. “Out of the way. You feeling less awkward now?”
The side of his mouth quirked up. He cupped her neck and brought her flush to him, kissing her thoroughly. Proprietarily. Stealing her breath away and scattering the little mind she had left. Arnie was growling by their side, but she couldn’t bring herself to break the spell long enough to admonish him.
“That’s more like it,” he whispered against her lips. “Is that a yes? You coming up north for the weekend?”
She held his stare, her brow cocked. “What do you think?”
“I’m thinking your dog is still growling at me,” he said, a smirk breaking over his face. “If I’m going to risk getting bitten, I hope it’s for a good cause.”
She kissed him softly again. “So you know, I’m not a good cause, Alchemist. I’m a fantastic one.”
“I didn’t come to Paris on business,” he admitted once he’d gotten Sky and Arnie settled in the truck.
Sky snorted. “I know. The school is closed for the long weekend.”
Wiseass. “The truth is, Butterfly, I missed Arnie.”
She broke into laughter. “Sure.”
“May I?” he asked Arnie. The dog didn’t growl, so he went ahead, pulling Sky onto his lap and kissing her. “I missed you.”
“Finally. The real reason you’re here,” she said.
“Yeah,” he admitted, gruffly, cupping her face and brushing his thumbs over her cheeks.
He’d missed coming home to her. Missed her cooking barely edible shit and recording crazy videos for her followers. Missed her complaints about the weather and the connectivity. He’d missed her laughter and her cheeky comebacks, her kisses and her soft caresses. He’d missed it all, stupid fashion shows included. Even crazy Cerberus had grown on him.
He’d told himself ad nauseam that he had no game plan when he jumped into the truck and drove to Paris. It was just a whim. A sudden urge to drive.
Right. What a load of crap.
He’d managed to hold off for two weeks after the YouTube video. Two excruciatingly long and miserable weeks. On the verge of cracking every fucking day.
“Why didn’t you come back to town instead of putting that tutorial on YouTube?” he asked before he could order his mouth to stay shut. He tried to suppress the accusatory tone in his voice, but he wasn’t sure he’d managed it.
Thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice. “Logistical issues. You watched it?”
He nodded. Multiple times, actually. Same for her other videos. By now he knew more about beauty hacks and plucking hair than his male ego cared to admit. “What logistical issues?”
“I had to give up the rental.”
Wait. “What?”
Sky grimaced. “I had to switch apartments. I don’t know why, but everyone assumes I have a purse dog, and they freak the shit out when they see Arnie. The place the school arranged for me was too small, or so the owner claimed when she saw me—Arnie, that is. The new apartment is more expensive, so I had to give up the rental to compensate.”
“How do you get around without a car?” The college was fairly close by, but still.
“I walk. I’m developing very unfashionable calves, but I’ll survive.”
Fuck. “Why didn’t you tell me you were stranded?”
“Why should I have? I didn’t know you cared.”
He leaned his forehead against hers, guilt weighing heavily on him. “Sorry, Butterfly. Of course I care. I should have driven you here and ensured you were settled in.” The fact that she had had to go alone, move her stuff, and then move again because the landlord got scared of Arnie, didn’t sit well with him. Total dick move on his part.
“Don’t sweat it. I would have turned you down if you’d offered. We independent women don’t go for clingy, overprotective men. Now that we’re on the subject, though, why didn’t you come to see me earlier?” She stared at him, her beautiful dark eyes scrutinizing. “Oh, wait. You were offended I didn’t come back for the makeup course, so you were giving me the cold shoulder. Am I right?”
He nodded, embarrassed. “Yeah. And I was trying very hard to convince myself I didn’t miss you. I failed miserably, obviously.”
“Obviously,” she repeated, caressing his face. “If it’s any consolation, I missed you too. Now let’s go, Alchemist, before I change my mind and remember the crazy shit going on in that tiny town of yours.” She squirmed out of his lap and strapped herself in next to Arnie. “So how are things in… still NoName?”
“Still NoName, I’m afraid. It’s all good, nothing out of the ordinary. Dirty diapers, mushrooms, and drills.” That had been his life. And missing her like crazy. “Oh, and Shayna shot Ty in the ass during a survival training some weeks ago.”
“I know.”
Logan threw a questioning glance her way.
She shrugged, unapologetically. “Shayna has an uninterrupted cell connection, remember? Unlike some people I could mention, she follows me on social media.”
As they hit the highway, she scrunched her nose. “Crap. I suggest you open your window,” she said, rolling hers down too.
It was still chilly, and they were driving pretty fast. “Why?”
“You’ll find out in a sec,” she replied, fanning herself. “I gave Arnie a new treat. I shouldn’t have. He has a sensitive stomach.”
Then the smell hit him. The dog was farting. “Jesus fucking Christ, Cerberus. You want to kill us?”
Sky was laughing, her head all but out the window. “You got your bug-out bag? We’re going to need the gas masks.”
No shit.
“Give it a couple of seconds. You’ll either pass out or stop noticing.”
Pass out it would be. He was sure of it.
By the time they arrived in NoName, Arnie’s stomach had calmed down, and thank God for it, because they’d spent most of the drive with the windows open wide, and he wasn’t doing that in his house. He was almost positive his ears had fallen off—he couldn’t feel them anymore. Sky’s nose was red, but she hadn’t complained even once.
Ty was right. Sky was nothing like Vivienne.
“What’s the plan for the weekend?” she asked as they pulled in the driveway.
He stopped the truck. “I reserved a table for this evening at the only restaurant in town.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Pretty confident I’d come back with you, huh?”
Wishful thinking, mostly, but he wasn’t telling her that. He forged ahead. “Tomorrow, Shayna is offering combat training and target s
hooting for women. I thought you’d like taking part. Any sane woman living in Minnesota needs to know how to shoot. Last time you missed the survival exercises on account of being locked in the bunker.”
She smirked. “Ah, I see. Your real intention is to get me in the bunker again.”
“Not that I would mind, but Shayna’s class isn’t being held at the compound.” He realized how that sounded, so he added, “I’m not implying in any way that you and I have to—”
“You don’t want to?”
“Fuck yeah, I want to,” he exclaimed before his filter engaged. “But you spending the weekend is not contingent upon you letting me fuck you. I’m not expecting—”
“I am,” she interrupted, that mischievous smile of hers making his cock grow even harder.
She straddled him, took his face between her hands, and brushed her lips against his. First soft, barely there kisses, then more demanding. Her short skirt didn’t allow for much movement, so it rode over her thigh-high stockings.
“Let’s get inside,” he said, trying to rein in his raging hard-on. He was not taking her in his truck.
“In that house? Are you kidding? That place is jinxed. It’s virtually impossible to have sex there.”
He chuckled at her chagrined expression. “In spite of what you think, it’s not. I was married when I moved here. I’ve managed that feat a time or two.”
She looked around. “How far does this seat go back? I bet it goes all the way. We have plenty of space. The windows are tinted. We can hide in plain sight.”
The blood supply to his brain might have ceased, because her words were making a lot of sense. His interns were back in the campus dorms. He and Sky were alone on the property.
He shook his head, trying to clear it. “Not fucking you in my truck, Butterfly. Never mind how tempting it is. I want you naked, and I need space to do all the things I want to do to you. Besides, remember the farting dog? His stomach might start acting up. As much as I want you, I’d rather avoid dying in the process. Let’s go in.” He opened the door and stepped down with her in his arms. Arnie jumped out behind them.
She wrapped herself around him, her sweet pussy pressing against his fly. “I was okay with the truck.”
“I assure you, you’ll be more okay when you’re spread-eagled on top of the dining room table, screaming while I fuck you.”
Sky shivered, her legs squeezing even tighter around him.
Without unlocking their mouths, he managed to open the front door. As he went to close it, he heard a whimper.
Shit. Cerberus.
“I’ll get him,” Sky offered.
No way. Holding her tight in one arm, he ran back, grabbed the beast around the barrel with the other, and lunged inside, closing the front door with a kick. He dropped the dog. Several more steps and he had Sky sitting on his table. He settled between her thighs and pulled her jacket off, trailing desperate kisses down her throat.
He wasn’t sure where Arnie was, or if Arnie’s growls were meant for him, but he couldn’t have cared less. Cerberus was welcome to take a bite out of him. As long as it wasn’t his dick, Logan wouldn’t even notice. He’d deal with the mess afterward. Now he had more important things to worry about than bleeding to death.
“Can’t wait to have you.” He sucked at her hard nipples through the blouse, while he gripped her hips and brought her flush to him.
Fuck. Her panties were damp. She was ready. He didn’t have the time nor the inclination to pull them off her, so he yanked at the side string, ripping it.
“Lean back, babe. I want to taste you,” he growled against her lips.
Sky obliged him, propping her elbows on the table’s wooden surface, staring at him with a dare in her eyes. “Do your worst, Alchemist.”
Jesus Christ, such a turn-on.
“Logan?”
Fuck, he must be losing his ever-loving mind, because he was hearing Vivienne.
Arnie’s growls were coming loud and clear now through the sex-induced fog, and Logan wasn’t hurting anywhere. Well, his cock was. It was about to explode from the need to fuck Sky, but it was still safely tucked inside his zipper.
“Logan!”
He turned toward the kitchen. Vivienne was there, backed into a corner, and terrified by the looks of it. Arnie was standing in front of her, growling and showing his teeth.
Sky screamed, trying to close her legs.
The good news was he was not losing his mind. The bad news was that his ex was in the house.
Sky was right; there was no way to have sex in this damn place.
Chapter 12
“Arnie, down!” Sky called, scrambling off the table and fighting to straighten her clothes, all at once.
“Vivienne, what the fuck?” Logan cursed.
Vivienne. Logan’s ex-wife. She should have guessed. There was no one in town who dressed from head to toe in high-end brands or, while expecting to be mauled by a rabid animal, could pull off that sophisticated look.
The second Sky stood up, her ripped underwear plopped to the floor, pooling around her left foot. Perfect way to meet the ex. As if the situation weren’t humiliating enough.
“What are you doing here?” Logan demanded. “And who the fuck let you in?”
“I still have the keys,” she replied haughtily. “As for what I’m doing here, apparently it’s watching you fool around with another woman. The least you can do is introduce us.”
“Vivienne, this is Sky.”
Vivienne scrunched her nose and began fanning herself. “What’s that horrible smell?”
“Arnie the hellhound,” Logan said, not even flinching. “Sensitive stomach.”
Sky was going to apologize for her dog and call him away, but the utter disgust in Vivienne’s face rubbed her the wrong way. Screw apologizing.
Logan turned to her. “Sky, this is Vivienne, my ex.”
Vivienne smiled a very sweet, very fake smile and glanced at the undies dangling around Sky’s ankle. “Technically, I am still your wife.”
Oh hell. Wife? As in still married? Sky’s face went up in flames. Or so it felt to her. This, she hadn’t expected.
Logan crossed his arms, his expression stony. “Technically, this is my house and you are trespassing. What do you want?”
“If you would answer my emails, I wouldn’t have to come down to this hellhole and interrupt your… evening. We need to talk.”
Sky reached for her coat. Arnie by her side, she announced, “I’ll give you your privacy.” She had no clue where she was going, but she wasn’t staying. She’d walk over to Shayna’s and beg for a ride, if need be.
As discreetly as she could, she shook her leg, trying to get the offensive underwear off her ankle. No luck. It was caught on the clasp of the stiletto strap. Fine, she’d leave it there. No way was she bending down to pull it off in front of everyone.
Before she could take one step, Logan grabbed her by the hand and stopped her. “You are going nowhere. Vivienne is just leaving.”
Vivienne harrumphed, obviously not accustomed to being dismissed. “You need to confirm your attendance at the award gala.”
“Who told you about it?”
Vivienne rolled her eyes. “Please. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? You have to go and work the crowd. Those are the movers and shakers, the ones with deep pockets. Money for environmental causes is in the big cities, not in rural Minnesota. I can make sure I have the evening free and come to help. It would be a great step toward getting your life back.”
“I don’t want my old life back. You know that.”
Maybe she did, but she seemed to be doing a great job of ignoring him. “You wouldn’t need to get your hands dirty anymore. With the recognition the award will bring, you can sell out for a hefty price, or run everything from a suitable office in downtown Seattle, as you should. Delegate the grunt work and deal with the suits. That world you understand perfectly. You know how to navigate it.”
“You know how t
o navigate it,” Logan interrupted. “I’m fine where I am now, thank you for the concern. I chose this life.”
“I didn’t!” Vivienne lost her composure for a second. Then she took a deep breath and smiled again. “Promise you’ll think about it. You can’t seriously be happy living like this. You don’t belong here.”
Sky felt damn uncomfortable standing there, witnessing the skirmish, but Logan’s hold on her hand was unbreakable.
“You came all the way to tell me I don’t belong? You wasted your time.”
“So it seems. The world is falling apart, Logan. Environmental causes are last on the list. You can do so much better than NoName, Minnesota. You’re not doing any favors to yourself or the environment by passing on such an opportunity.”
Then she gave Sky a once-over. “Almost, but not quite.”
“What?” Logan asked.
Sky got it. She didn’t pass inspection. It was as if, with some kind of laser vision, Vivienne had seen that Sky’s bra was a knockoff. The bitch.
Vivienne clicked her tongue. Shook her head. “When will you learn, Logan? You do have a type. You might hate it, or pretend you do, but that’s what gets your dick hard. She won’t stay either. The kind of woman you fancy won’t stay.” Then she turned to Sky. “Sky, right? Nice to meet you. My advice? Run. Fast and far away. Before your Prince Charming transforms into a shit recycler. Been there.”
“I don’t know,” Sky answered, withstanding Vivienne’s stare. “When I met Logan, I thought he cooked meth and farmed poppies. I’d say poo processing is a step up.”
Vivienne’s face indicated she was on the fence about that. “That dog needs a colon cleanse or a session with a holistic healer. Or he should be put down. I’d go with the last option; no one should live with that revolting smell.”
The bitch. She could criticize Sky all day long, but no one was allowed to say a disrespectful word about Arnie. No. Frigging. One. “Lady—”
“Go,” Logan grunted, holding Sky back. “And leave the keys on your way out.”
Pursing her lips, Vivienne placed the keys on the table and went out the door. Logan closed it behind her.