“Oh God!” I screamed, the orgasm claiming me until I was unable to hold myself up and I collapsed into Logan’s arms.
“Holy fuck. That was the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen,” Logan said.
“I think I almost passed out.” I giggled against his chest, feeling my buzz from the many drinks I had consumed returning.
I felt a smile tug at his lips against my forehead, and he kissed me, running his hands through my hair.
“We better get going. It’s almost Last Call. This parking lot is going to be flooded in a few minutes, and I don’t want anyone seeing that look on your face but me.”
I giggled again. How much did I have to drink? Hadn’t I read something in Cosmo once about orgasms actually making you feel more drunk because of the adrenaline or something? Or maybe I made that up.
“Don’t we, um, need to take care of you?” I asked sheepishly, lifting my head so I could look into his eyes. His beautiful blue eyes.
“Clare, I’m holding on by a string here. Offer me something like that, and I’m going to have you naked in this back seat in five seconds.”
I nodded, still giggling and he rolled his eyes.
We adjusted ourselves and got in the front just as the crowd from the bar descended. Wow, he wasn’t kidding.
And oh, my God, I had just gotten freaky in a parking lot!
He drove me home, holding my hand as we talked about Leah and Declan leaving the bar together.
“Do you think they hooked up?” I asked.
“Well, Declan isn’t known for being subtle, and he had his eye on Leah from the minute we walked in that bar. What about her?”
“Leah hasn’t really been with anyone since her breakup, so I wonder if she’ll take her own advice,” I said, looking out the window as we merged on to the interstate.
“What advice?” he asked.
“Oh. Well, when I first met you, and ah, noticed you…” I looked at him; his eyes glittered with unheard laughter. Smug bastard. “She said it was time I go out and have some fun, of the male variety. She said I didn’t have to date, just have some fun.”
His eyebrows drew together, and he frowned before shaking his head. “That’s terrible advice.”
“Well, she did suggest you as a starter,” I teased.
“Well, not too terrible of advice then. One night with me and you’ll be mine forever,” he promised as he brought my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles, which sent chills up my spine and heat down to my core.
“But I don’t think I have it in me. The random one night stands. I don’t think I’m built that way,” I admitted.
He shook his head in agreement. “No, you’re not. Jumping into bed with a stranger involves a lack of feeling and emotion for the people you get involved with,” he said. “You are too good a person. Too loving and caring. You could never sleep with someone with the intent of never speaking to them again.”
“You make me sound boring,” I mumbled.
Giving me a sideways glance, he said with assurance, “The woman I just saw come unhinged in the backseat of my car was anything but boring.”
I smiled at the compliment, but his words were still echoing in my head.
“Is that why you did it? So you wouldn’t have to feel?” I questioned. We hadn’t talked much about his checkered past since his divorce two years ago. The gory details had been skimmed over a bit, but he knew I was familiar with it.
“Yes,” he admitted. “When Melanie left, I felt relief. Pure and utter relief. She’d done the one thing I was too much of a coward to do. Then the guilt came and I felt sick. Shouldn’t you be torn up when your wife leaves you for another man? I should have felt rage, but I didn’t. I’d lived every day of our marriage with this overwhelming sense of guilt. Seeing the way she looked at me, her eyes filled with such love and devotion, and I couldn’t return those feelings. I’d always been so fearful I couldn’t love someone and there was my proof.” I tried to interrupt him and tell him he was wrong, but he just continued.
“After a few months with all those emotions running rampant, I just became numb. The only thing I held together was my career. It’s always been a type of solace for me. Like I said, following a random stranger home from a bar requires a lack of feeling, and that was me.”
He laughed for a brief second, and I could hear the pain echoing in the sound.
We pulled into the driveway and he shut off the engine. Grasshoppers chirped in the nearby bushes, and the dozen air conditioners that lined the street hummed in unison. Summer was coming to Virginia and the air was growing more humid with each passing day.
“What Declan said—” he started to say before I cut him off.
“Logan, it doesn’t matter,” I tried to assure him.
“It does matter. I need you to know. I haven’t been a saint. I can’t even count the number of women I’ve slept with and used to avoid my own pain since my divorce. Declan was my only friend who supported that type of behavior. He was my enabler, and he has been for the majority of my life.”
He looked defeated, dejected.
I didn’t know what I had to say to make him understand. I didn’t care what he had done or who he’d done it with. As hard as it was for me to picture, I didn’t even care if he and Declan were out picking up bar trash the night before we met. He was mine now.
I didn’t judge him for anything. We both had pasts. Yes, they were vastly different from each other, but they were still baggage with both carried into this relationship.
Just like in the garden, words failed to show the depth of my feeling at that moment. So I leaned across the seat, looked in those gorgeous blue eyes, and kissed him. It was a kiss completely opposite of the frenzied passion we had just shared. This kiss was slow, meaningful, and meant to be savored.
When he walked me to the door that night, his mood was lighter and happier as if a heavy weight had been lifted. I seriously think he had been waiting for me to run for the hills and every time I didn’t, he became a bit more secure. Logan could hold his own and walk circles around anyone when it came to anything remotely sexual, but a two-sided relationship was new territory for him.
As we reached my front door, I turned, my lips curving into a smile.
“Sure you don’t want to come in?” I teased.
“Temptress.”
“OK, don’t say I didn’t off—” Before I could finish my sentence, his mouth was on mine, our tongues twirling together in a punishing rhythm. His arms wrapped around my waist pulling me closer, as I coiled mine around his neck.
His lips left mine, trailing kisses over my chin, down my neck and then up to my ear. His voice low and seductive, he whispered, “Find another night for Maddie to spend with Leah or your parents. Because the next time we’re alone, you’re mine.”
Read more from J.L. Berg’s novel When You're Ready (The Ready Series, #1). She also invites you to subscribe to her mailing list for alerts on new releases.
About When You're Ready (The Ready Series, #1)…
Years after suffering the tragic loss of her husband, Ethan, which left her alone to raise their young daughter, Clare Murray still holds the last letter he wrote with the words "When You're Ready" written in his familiar messy handwriting, unable to break its weathered seal. Ready for what? He was her entire world, and Clare had accepted a life without him, without love. Until years later, fate brings her to an emergency room, and face to face with a stormy-eyed doctor intent on changing her mind.
Son of a billionaire, Logan Matthews has spent his life trying to make his absentee father proud. Without a family to depend on, all he's ever wanted is a place to call home. After a failed marriage, Logan believes he's unworthy of love...until he meets a woman who awakens his spirit and transforms his entire life in an instant.
But how far are Clare and Logan willing to go for love? Can his love mend the pieces of her grieving heart?
When their love is tested, is Clare ready to put her whole heart on the line
again? Can Logan learn the true meaning of love, even if it means sacrificing his own happiness? When a second chance at love is given, Clare and Logan learn you are never truly ready until you're ready to risk it all.
This book contains adult language and scenes. Not intended for readers under the age of 18.
About J.L. Berg…
J.L. Berg is the USA Today bestselling author of the Ready Series. She is a California native living in the beautiful state of historic Virginia. Married to her high school sweetheart, they have two beautiful girls that drive them batty on a daily basis. When she's not writing, you will find her with her nose stuck in a romance novel, in a yoga studio or devouring anything chocolate. J.L. Berg is represented by Jill Marsal of Marsal Lyon Literary Agency, LLC.
Indiscretion: Volumes 1-4
Indiscretion Serial
Elisabeth Grace
Are you ready to heat things up? Prior to this scene, Chloe and Max have decided to embark on a summer fling after reconnecting in her hometown months after a one-night stand. Chloe has had a long day and Max wants nothing more than to help her relax.
I wearily made my way up to Max’s hotel room, tired and stressed from a long week, and knocked on the door. While I waited for him to answer, I grabbed my bottle of water from my purse and took a swig. The door swung open as I was about to swallow, and I almost choked. My eyes widened at the image in front of me, and I spit out my drink all over Max, coughing and choking on the small amount of water that actually did make it down my throat.
Max was standing in the doorway, looking like complete masturbation material, with only a pair of well-worn, faded jeans on. His muscled chest and treasure trail were on display. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen it, I just hadn’t expected to see it so soon tonight. I was wholly unprepared and it caught me off guard. And seeing it again, I realized my memory hadn’t done his body an ounce of justice. There was nothing but raw, primal male standing in front of me. His facial hair was longer than the last time I’d seen him, not a beard but a little more than a five o’clock shadow. I wanted nothing more than to feel it on my skin—preferably the skin of my inner thighs.
“You okay?” Max blinked at me, sounding concerned.
I raised my hand, indicating for him to just give me a minute as I finished my coughing fit. Brushing away the tears that had formed under my eyes, I brought my gaze back to him.
He was wiping the remnants of water from his bare chest. “I guess you’re a spitter then?” He arched an eyebrow and grinned.
Laughter peeled from me before I could contain it, and I pushed him backward into his suite and followed him inside. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” I said with a generous amount of sass.
When I looked past Max into the suite, I stopped short. The lights were off and candles dotted various surfaces around the living area. They smelled like a mixture of orange, cinnamon, and something else I couldn’t quite place. But whatever it was, it was divine. Music was playing softly in the background at just the right level, so it wasn’t overpowering or intrusive. The couches and coffee table had been pushed back to make room for what appeared to be a massage table set-up in the middle of the room.
“What is all this?” I asked.
“You mentioned you’d had a long few days, so I thought a massage might help you to relax.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal.
My eyes probably looked like they were ready to pop out of my head. “That’s so thoughtful, Max, but this is way above and beyond. You didn’t need to go to all this trouble.”
“It wasn’t any trouble.” He said it nonchalantly, like it really wasn’t a big deal to arrange a massage table, buy all these candles, and set everything up.
My curiosity won out, and I had to ask. “How did you get a massage table, anyway?”
“I borrowed it from the country club next door.”
“And they let you?” I wonder what they thought of that request.
He shrugged again. “When you have as much money as my family, there’s not much people won’t let you do. And that’s not me being a prick—that’s just a fact.”
I didn’t comment. I was sure it probably was true. I very rarely thought about how much money Max had because he just didn’t come across that way to me. “I still can’t believe you went to all this trouble for me…”
He placed his hands on my shoulders. “I know you’re used to taking care of yourself, but it’s time to let someone else look after you for once. Relax, Chloe.” He chuckled. “It’s just a massage.”
I couldn’t decide if he was right and I was just uncomfortable because I wasn’t used to being taken care of, or if it was because this thing between us sure as hell didn’t feel like a tryst right now. I was determined to enjoy the sexual nature of our relationship, but this felt like more. And I couldn’t do more. There was no room in my life for more—especially with someone that was leaving town in a few months. Either way, I was so fatigued and stressed that I didn’t have the heart to fight him on it. That, and the idea of a massage sounded heavenly.
“Okay. Thank you,” I said, putting my purse on a table and coming farther into the room.
“Besides…it’s not totally selfless. I’m hoping this massage will have a happy ending,” he deadpanned.
I laughed. His comment was just what I needed to lighten the mood and bring me out of my head. “So where do you want me?”
He stepped so close to me his chest brushed against my nipples as his fingers dug into my hair. I loved when he did that. I was sure he was going to kiss me while I stood there, looking into his magnificent eyes, my breathing getting heavier.
“That’s a loaded question,” he said huskily. “I want you more ways than I can count. And I will have you all those ways, but all in due time.” I gulped audibly, and he stepped back. “Why don’t you go and undress in the bathroom. You’ll find a robe on the counter.”
I just nodded. I could barely form a coherent thought. It was like once this man had me in his tractor beam, I was unable to function and my brain synapses started misfiring. When a man like Max gave you the entire weight of his attention and desire, it was a powerful force indeed.
I returned a few minutes later in the pale pink silk robe that had been waiting for me in the bathroom. It only reached mid-thigh, and my nipples were clearly visible through the thin material. I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror for several moments, pondering what to do and finally decided it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t be breaking news to Max that he turned me on.
Returning to the living room, I found Max standing beside the massage table. The candlelight cast a dancing shadow across his perfectly sculpted chest, accentuating the form of each and every dip and rise of his abdomen.
As I made my way to the middle of the room, his sultry gaze tracked me. “Lie face down.” His voice was soft, but I wasn’t fool enough to believe it was a request.
I did as he said, adjusting myself until my face was comfortably placed in the hole in the headrest, and I was looking at the floor below, my hands resting at my sides.
Max pulled the silk fabric from my shoulders and down my back, the silk ties in front easily giving way. The room was warm, but a shiver ran up my spine as the soft material moved across my skin. He pulled a sheet up from the bottom of the table, bringing it over my body, until it covered my legs and rested at the crest of my ass. I tried not to visualize what I looked like to Max before he had pulled the sheet up.
“Just relax, Chloe,” he coaxed me. “Concentrate on the feel of my hands. Let me pleasure you.”
OK, I thought sleepily. I could already feel my eyes fluttering closed, and I took a deep breath as warm massage oil dripped onto my back, smelling slightly of coconut. It reminded me of a tropical island, though I’d never been to one.
I had to bite back a moan as his large hands spread the liquid across the expanse of my back and down to the top of my ass. The pressure he used was just enough to ease the tension from my tired muscles
and peel back the stressful layers of my workweek and the upcoming charity gala. Gripping both of my shoulders, he squeezed while his thumbs trailed a path up and down the back of my neck. It was the most glorious feeling as all the tension and stress eased out of my body, becoming a hazy memory in minutes.
“Feel good?” he asked, his voice low.
“Mmmm,” was all I could manage. I was completely content, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this relaxed.
As Max’s warm hands slid over my skin, I started to drift somewhere between awake and dreaming. Maybe this was what people felt when they meditated. If so, I totally understood why they did it.
“How are things going at the show home?” Max asked as he kneaded my shoulders.
“Pretty good,” I sighed out. “I was close to getting a deal signed, but at the last minute they decided to visit this other developer’s site in town.” My tone was laced with sarcasm.
Max chuckled. “Really? Care to tell me their name? Maybe I should follow up with them.”
“Not happening, rich boy,” I said with sass, and he tickled my sides. I squirmed on the table until he finally showed me mercy, picking up where he left off.
I’m not sure how long I lay there, content to bask in his attention, but after a while something shifted in the air, and I knew that Max’s mood had gone from wanting to relax and pamper me, to something much more carnal.
I grew wet as his touch lingered in one spot longer than it had before. His fingers reached further down so that he grazed the sides of my breasts, and his abdomen now pressed into my side as his hands roamed my body. Max’s hands moved from the top of my back to the bottom, pushing the sheet covering my ass down onto my legs until I heard it hit the floor.
I expected him to touch me, but when he didn’t, I pictured him standing there beside me, perusing the length of my entire body. I went to lift my head, when he said in a whisper, “Don’t.”
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