“Shhh…go back to sleep. I’m just taking you up to my bed.”
Yeah, totally awake now. “Excuse me?”
Logan’s chest rumbles against mine. “Relax, Addy. I’m just putting you there to sleep.”
“And where are you going to sleep?” I ask.
“Next to you, baby girl.” He winks at me, trying to humor me, but it doesn’t make me feel any more at ease. I don’t see myself getting any sleep while lying in a bed next to him all night.
Entering his room, he sets me down on the bed, then goes to his dresser and pulls out a black t-shirt. “Here, you can sleep in this until we grab your shit tomorrow. I’ll be right back.” I stare at the shirt like it’s going to burst into flames, then I panic that he’s going to come back mid-change and rip my clothes off, throw the t-shirt on, and dive under his covers. I have his sheet up to my neck when he returns. “Are you cold? Do you want me to turn down the air conditioning?”
“Nope. Good. All good. Goodnight.” I throw myself onto my side and cover my ears so I can’t hear any more of his sexy chuckles.
“Hey, Addy?”
“Yep?”
“Goodnight.”
“Nighty night.”
My body is on fire. I wrestle with the bedsheets, trying to pull my comforter off, but it’s too heavy. I pry one eye open only to realize I’m not in my own bed. And my comforter is actually a big, muscular leg and an even more muscular arm wrapped around my waist. Both tired eyes shoot open at the realization that I’m in Logan’s bed, and he’s got his arms and legs cocooned around me.
My body tenses and he pulls me to him, his lips brushing against the back of my ear. He inhales a deep breath. “Mmm…”
And then the realization hits him.
“Fuck.” He lets me go, and I almost roll off the bed. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…” He jumps out of bed, then turns toward me. I try to stammer out that it’s not a big deal when I realize he’s only in his boxers pitching quite the impressive tent.
“Oh my God!” I cover my eyes.
“Shit, sorry,” he grumbles, then rushes out of the room.
“God, that can’t be comfortable.” I throw myself back onto the bed and stare at the ceiling. Every guy in my books is large and in charge. That’s what romance is about. But I never realized it exists in real life. The guys I’ve been with, a whole whopping three, have been so much…smaller. Makes me wonder what he does with that thing all the time. And how much money he spends on getting his pants tailored to widen them in that area. I slap myself on the forehead. “Shut up, Addy.”
Logan returns wearing a set of lounge pants. He coughs into his hand. “Sorry about that. I’m not used to anybody sleeping in my bed.”
“Yeah. No problem. It’s fine. I’m sure it’s normal. You know, for fake relationships, to cuddle. Were we cuddling?”
There’s a glimmer of humor in his eyes. “I would say so. What do you consider cuddling?”
Just call me a fish out of water. I’m sputtering over how to answer when something outside the window steals his attention.
His smile falls. “Motherfucker.”
“What? What is it?” I turn my attention to what has his.
“We have an audience.”
“What do you mean we have an audience?” I sit up straighter, pulling the sheet up my torso. Parked at the curb in front of his house is a black car. A man leans against it, his arms crossed over his chest. “How long do you think he’s been there?”
“I don’t know.” Logan’s muscles tense, his jaw tightening. He shoves his hand through his hair. “You know what? Fuck this. He’s done stalking us.” He storms toward the bedroom door when I stop him.
“Wait.” Logan turns back to me. “It’s fine.”
“It ain’t fuckin’ fine. I’m done with this shit. Our business is our business—”
“But wait! We don’t want to be reckless right now. I’m telling you, it’s fine.” My cheeks flush. I start to chew on my bottom lip. “Just pretend. Okay?” Why am I pushing this? Because you want to torture yourself and confuse the heck out of your heart. Basically.
“You sure?”
I nod, and he takes one last glance, then pulls his eyes away from the window and onto me. As if nothing just rattled him, he walks over and climbs onto the bed. My eyes stay trained on his as he crawls up my body, hovering over me.
“You sure about this?” he whispers, his warm breath skating along my lips. Instead of answering, I raise my head and press my mouth to his.
I’m not sure what comes over me, being so bold to take the lead, but I raise my hands to secure his head and kiss him deeper, working his mouth open until our tongues are in a sensual dance.
We’re slow at first. His hand lowers to my butt and cups my cheek, and pulls me closer, melding our bodies together. I moan into his mouth at the feel of his erection and find myself quickly forgetting we have an audience. Raising my hips, I match him for another stroke and wrap my arms around his neck. My fingers glide up into his hair, and I tug hard.
With every touch, lick, kiss, we come closer to crossing the line between real and fake. My body buzzes with desire. I want to provoke him for more, greedy for his hands to disappear underneath my cotton panties, like the other day.
“Fuck,” he grunts, gripping my ass harder. He thrusts into me again, this time with more intent. A heated spark flickers between us, and his lips break from mine. Kissing his way down my neck, I stretch, allowing him more access. How can something fake create such electricity between us? Our clothes between us are suddenly too much. My hands slide down his bare back until they disappear into his lounge pants. I dig my fingernails around his tight ass, gripping until I threaten to break skin.
“Addy,” he moans my name as he consumes the heated flesh of my collarbone, sparking a fire inside me. I’m desperate for more. I thrust back and forth along the length of his covered cock. God, he feels like heaven against me. My hands become greedy, and I get one side of his pants down, exposing his butt cheek.
The last thread of Logan’s restraint snaps. His fingers grip my flesh, and he thrusts his cock against my sex. I pant with each blast of pleasure and turn frantic, trying to tug off his pants when my orgasm starts to build.
“Oh God,” I moan, awakening every nerve-ending in my body. My mouth parts and I silently cry out as pleasure ripples through me.
Time stands at an awkward stillness. Shoot, not again… My cheeks flood with embarrassment. Gone is the brave minx who just tried to practically maul him, and in her place is the meek, scaredy-cat who’s afraid to make eye contact.
“I, uh…I didn’t mean to take it that far. I’m sorry—”
He quickly cuts me off. “No, me too. I shouldn’t have—”
“Nope! We’re good!” Oh god, I need the world to swallow me up right now.
“I’m just…going to go take a shower.”
“Yep, sounds good.”
“Yep.”
Logan slides off me, and I can’t help but notice the massive erection protruding from his pants. Before I can apologize for that, the bathroom door slams shut.
Neither of us speaks a peep about what happened, which I’m thankful for. For someone who has no game or sex appeal, I sure had no problem turning into a hungry sex kitten. The problem is, as soon as it ended, so did my confidence.
I wouldn’t even know what to say if he did bring it up. Oh, that? It was nothing, just you setting my entire body on fire and me flying off the cliff of pure ecstasy from dry humping. Yep, sounds perfect. Should I also mention the number of times I’ve crossed the finish line, and he’s been left in second place with blue balls as his consolation prize?
I have yet to ditch the flush from my cheeks when he returns, collected, as if nothing happened.
“Vincent needs me to make a run. We need to head out.”
“Yeah, okay.” I nod and get up, searching for and realizing I have no clothes. “Any chance we can make a stop at my p
lace? A fresh pair of pajamas would be nice.”
He shakes his head, his low chuckle breaking some of the awkward tension.
“As long as they’re similar to your other ones, you got it.”
The drive to my place is filled with uncomfortable silence. Every so often, I attempt to open my mouth to say something. Maybe apologize that he’s zero for two in our accidental orgasm challenge? But then I realize that sounds so lame and I shut my mouth.
We make the trek up my three flights of stairs, and I insert the key into the lock when my neighbor’s door cracks open, and Mrs. Pilson’s head peeps out. “Addy, is that you?”
“Hi, Mrs. Pilson,” I yell since she’s half deaf. “How are you today?”
Her eyes narrow, staring suspiciously at Logan. “Well, my arthritis is acting up. This darn rain.”
“Sorry to hear. Did you put the wet towels in the microwave and heat them like I suggested?”
“I did, dear. My joints are still giving me problems,” she replies, but she has her sight still locked on Logan. “You have a man behind you. Do you need me to call 9-1-1?”
I look back at Logan. “Oh, no. He’s with me.” Darn it, this lock is so stubborn.
“What do you mean he’s with you? Are you in some sort of trouble?”
I try twisting the key, and it jams. “Come on! What? No, he’s…” I look back at him.
Logan steps forward, sticking his hand out to her. “Hello. Logan. I’m Addy’s boyfriend.”
Mrs. Pilson’s eyes widen at the news. “Boyfriend? You don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Well, I do now.”
“But you’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve never even seen you with a—”
“Okay! So sorry to cut our chat short, but we’re kind of in a hurry.” Now that she knows he’s not a danger, her eyes glimmer with interest. They drift up and down his chest, and I roll my eyes, throwing my shoulder into my door because I need it open right the heck now.
“My, my, you sure know how to pick them. Maybe he can come in and help me with my dishwasher. It’s clogged—”
My lock finally gives, and I stumble into my apartment, reaching out and snatching Logan’s shirt, pulling him inside. “Bye, Mrs. Pilson!” I yell, slamming my door.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Logan says, humor prominent in his eyes.
“Not sure what you’re talking about. I’ll just be a minute.” I leave him and his damn attractive smirk as I go hide in my room to collect myself. A few breathing techniques to calm my rapidly beating heart, and I move into gear. I take a hot shower and get dressed. This time, I decide to forego the pajamas and stick with a pair of jeans and a tank top, then stash his hoodie in the back of my closet. If he asks for it back, I’ll claim it was lost or stolen.
When I come out, Logan is looking at photos I have hanging on the fridge. “Ready?”
He steps back. “This your family?”
“Yeah.” I stare at the photo of me, Mom, and Dad at my graduation. “My parents are super old school. They didn’t want me to come to Chicago. Worried about all the crime they see on the news. My mom refuses to come visit, and I don’t have a car or extra money to take the bus back home. It’s been over a year since I’ve seen them.” I’m not sure why I disclosed so much information, but I rip my eyes away and throw my backpack up on my shoulder.
“And a boyfriend?”
I roll my eyes. “His photo must have fallen off. You ready?”
Logan laughs and comes up to me. “So, I’m not stepping on anyone’s toes playing your knight in shining armor?”
I roll my eyes. “Mrs. Pilson ruined that lie for me. I’m pretty sure she’s made it halfway through her bridge group, telling them how she saw a real-life male walk into my apartment.”
“You’ve never had a guy here?”
Can he make me feel like any more of a loser? “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not equipped with all the bells and whistles men go for.”
He’s close enough to reach out and cup my chin, raising my head up. “I don’t think you’ve looked at yourself lately.”
My heart drops. “Why? Do I have something on my face?” I pull away to look in a mirror, but Logan captures my arm and pulls me back.
“I mean, you’re too hard on yourself.”
“I’m not hard. I’m honest. There’s no reason to believe—”
“You’re beautiful, Addy.”
His words shut me up. I stare at him, waiting for that smile. The laugh and joke. But his eyes tell me a different story. He’s being honest. Something passes between us—something unfamiliar. I don’t know how to read him. These feelings blossoming…I need to shut them down. It’ll only be harder for me in the end when this façade is over, and we go our separate ways.
I clear my throat. “Well, you’re blind, but that’s on you. Anywho, let’s go before we have fifteen overeager women in my apartment asking you to clean their pipes.”
Logan bellows out a deep laugh as I push past him out the door.
Building after building flash past as we speed through busy downtown. The fancy buildings start to become scarce as we enter the industrial part of the city. “So, what type of crime are we going to commit today? Maybe after, we can do some digging on those barcodes. I have a feeling if we search those numbers, something will come up.”
Logan gives me his attention for a moment, only to roll his eyes and scoff. “You need to drop that shit for now. Okay? Right now, I gotta drop off a shipment to a client.” Geez, I guess we’re back to being grumpy. “I’m serious, Addy. That shit stays between us, got it?” I nod and stare back out the window, taking in the rundown warehouses. He drives until we stop at a seedy looking building, and my curiosity piques.
“Is this where you have to drop off a shipment? Seems super sketchy. I thought you handled big shipments. Is this an important client?”
Logan gives me his infamous annoyed growl. Yep, back to being grouchy. “No more questions, got it? The less you know, the better.” He parks, and we both get out. Retrieving a huge duffle bag from his trunk, we walk up to the side door, and he rings the bell.
“Who is it?” a voice rings from the speaker.
“A friend of Vincent Leoni,” Logan says, and seconds later, we’re buzzed in.
“Stay close to me, and please, for the love of God, stay quiet.”
I give him a thumbs up. “Got it, baby cakes.”
He laughs and rolls his eyes. We walk in, instantly greeted by blaring heavy metal music. A guy, covered head-to-toe in tattoos, walks up to us, and Logan grabs my hand.
“You Logan?” the guy asks, his entire bottom lip lined in piercings.
“That’s me.” Logan hands him the duffle bag. “Twenty kilos.”
The guy smiles and takes the bag. “Well, come on in. Let’s inspect it and get you paid.” Logan nods and drags me along with him as we walk farther into the warehouse. I survey the open layout. To the right appears to be a tattoo parlor. The walls are filled with tattoo work and disorganized posters. Super art gallery vibe. A faint buzzing sound echoes over the music as a man hunches over a half-naked girl, tattooing her stomach, while two others sit next to her, drinking. We keep walking until we come to a lounge area.
“Take a seat.” The guy throws the duffle bag by his feet and unzips it to pull out a brick. My eyes lock on it, curious. I’ve never seen a real-life brick of drugs before. He flips open a pocketknife, stabs it, then retrieves some of the white powder, bringing it to his nose. My eyes water at the sniffling sound as he inhales the entire pile.
“Shit, that’s good.” He shakes his head, wiping the residue of coke from his nose, then looks at me. “Want one?”
“Oh, no. I’m good. On a diet.” The guy expels a low, riotous laugh and goes for another round.
“We good then?” Logan asks, but the guy sticks his hand out, halting him.
“No, man. We’re not good.” Logan tenses and I watch him prepare to reach for his gun. Oh boy. This is when the d
rug deal goes bad in action flicks. But a smile appears on the guy’s face, and he throws himself back onto the couch. “We’re great! Dude, stay. Hang out. No need to drop and run. Kelly!” he yells over to the girls in the parlor. “Grab three beers.” He turns back to us. “The name’s Spider. And you are?” He looks at me.
“Addy,” I reply, and he nods.
“Here ya go, Addy. Hope beer is on your diet.” He laughs, and Kelly hands me a beer, then offers one to Logan and Spider. “Take a seat. Relax! There’s room next to me.” Logan sits in a lounge chair and grabs me, pulling me onto his lap. “Oh shit, you two like a thing? My bad, man.”
“No problem.” Logan tucks me into his side. I play the part and drape my arms around his shoulders, dipping my head to place a kiss against his neck. Fake or not, I love the way he feels wrapped around me. His masculine arms keeping me safe. I kiss the edge of his chin and brush my nose along his cheekbone, then gently tug on his earlobe with my teeth. His hands tighten around my waist.
“So, how’s business?” Logan starts up the conversation, sounding bored. “You still keeping a solid flow?”
Spider’s pupils expand like black saucers. His fingers aggressively fidget with his nose and he starts to bounce in his seat. “Yeah, bro. Shit’s been good. These kids love this new batch.” He swipes at his nose and reaches for the pack of smokes on the table. He offers me one, but I decline.
“You’ve been going through it quicker than normal. You got a new route?”
He lights his cigarette and exhales. “Always, bro. Got some kids who sell at the college. Those rich motherfuckers suck this shit up like candy. Will pay anything for it too.”
I pull back and take a drink of my beer, trying to keep my mouth shut. Really, really trying, but sometimes—“You’re supplying cocaine to college kids?”
Logan shows his displeasure by digging his fingers into my thigh.
“Hellz yeah. Why? You want in? I could use a hot delivery girl.”
“She’s busy,” Logan growls.
Spider starts rambling about nonsense, and I lay back against Logan’s shoulder, trying to behave. But the fact that this guy is dealing drugs to college kids is so messed up. Logan is just as wrong for supplying it. I don’t know how much time passes, but I can’t take it any longer.
Celebrity Dirt: A Fake Relationship Romantic Suspense Standalone Page 10