by Lane Hart
Do I really want to start something with Logan tonight that has to end tomorrow?
Yes, even though it’s a horrible idea.
The last few days with him have made me feel free for the first time in years, like I’m safe with him from everything and everyone, even if that’s not exactly true.
While Logan was out shopping, I called my cell phone from the hotel’s landline, and my roommate Jessica answered it. She’s back at school in New York which means that, if the asshole is tracking my phone like he usually does, he thinks I’m in New York too, so I don’t have to worry about him coming back down here again before we leave tomorrow. He knows I never go anywhere without my phone. In fact, he insists that I don’t. For once, I’ve pulled one over on the asshole, or at least I think I have. It probably won’t work for long, because he’ll show up at my apartment to check up on me, only to find I’m back home in Maryland. It’s not much, but it does give me a few days.
If only I could figure out how to untangle myself from the sticky web I’m responsible for weaving myself into. That’s never going to happen – at least not completely. Once I’m home, and I confront my ex, telling him that I’m done and to leave me alone, he’ll say he’s sorry, apologize a million times, and beg me to forgive him. I’ll refuse. Then he’ll leave, like all the times before, but he’ll keep watching me, stalking me, making sure that I’m not with any other men. If I even smile at a guy too long, that’s when the possessive asshole will pounce and go after the recipient, who is completely innocent.
I won’t let that happen to Logan. He doesn’t deserve to have his life turned upside down for me.
Running my fingers through my hair, I take a deep breath and then finally leave the bathroom through the open door.
Logan’s reaction from the bottom of the stairs throws everything I just promised myself out the window. The way he looks at me makes me feel beautiful and special. The sensation is addictive.
My keeper isn’t here, so he won’t find out if I were to enjoy myself for just one night with Logan, right? Don’t I deserve a little piece of happiness in my life after all that I’ve endured over the past five years? It’s the least I should get for having to be stuck in a no-win situation for the rest of my life.
“You look…wow, Brayden,” Logan eventually says when I get to the bottom of the stairs.
The smile stretched across my face at hearing that is almost painful.
“Just one problem,” I tell him as I glance down at my feet and laugh at the flipflops paired with the sexy dress. “I need new shoes.”
“Oh, right. I didn’t even think about that,” he says.
“Not your fault. I forgot I needed something dressy.”
“We’ll find you some,” he assures me as he reaches over and brushes my bare shoulder with his thumb, causing chill bumps to spread down my arms. “I’m glad you wore this dress.”
“You don’t think it’s too slutty?” I ask with genuine concern.
“Slutty? Hell no,” Logan replies. “The dress is gorgeous and sexy. It’s perfect for you. You’ll turn every head you pass.”
“And you don’t mind that?” I ask hesitantly, testing the waters.
“No,” he says simply, causing my shoulders to slump a little. Then he adds, “Why would I mind who looks at you when I know you’ll be coming home with me tonight?”
“That’s true,” I respond with a smile. “You look pretty good yourself,” I tell him as I take in the khaki slacks and blue button-down rolled up to his elbows.
“I’m only showing a little bit of red skin,” he says as he looks down at his arms. “And I can’t forget the shades.” Pulling them from his front pocket, he slides the glasses on to cover the white rings that remain around his eyes but are much less noticeable today.
Even with the raccoon eyes and red skin, Logan is still the most handsome man I’ve ever met. And now that I know how incredibly sweet and smart he is, I don’t think there’s anything that could ever change my mind about that.
Chapter Eighteen
Logan
With every step that Brayden took down the stairs, a little more of my willpower snapped. By the time she reached the bottom, I was a goner.
I’ve spent the last thirty-three years of my life doing the right thing, and it hasn’t made me happy.
For one night, I want to let go and do the wrong thing with Brayden.
In fact, it’s incredibly hard not to reach for her right now, pull her to me, and kiss her until we both pass out on the floor from a lack of oxygen.
“Ready?” the sexy siren asks me.
“Yeah, sure,” I agree, the words coming out huskier than normal as my need to touch her breaks through even my voice. “Let’s take a photo together,” I suggest so that I can at least have the memory of this beautiful knockout before our time together ends.
“Okay,” she agrees with a smile. “But please don’t post it on social media.”
“Not a chance,” I assure her since this is just for my benefit.
Brayden stands beside me while I pull my phone out of my pocket with one hand and rest my other on the small of her back. It’s not much contact, but I can’t help rubbing my thumb across what part of her I am touching.
Holding my phone arm out far enough to capture both of us in the photo, I tell her, “Smile on three. One, two, three.”
I press the button to capture the moment, then bring it down to my face to see it better. And damn we look good together, even if I am wearing my shades to hide my raccoon eyes. “That’s a great picture, thank you,” I tell Brayden. “Now,” I start as I put my phone away again. “I would really like to take you out to a nice restaurant to eat for once, if that’s okay?”
“Really?” Brayden asks in surprise, making me worry for a second that she doesn’t like the idea of going out on a date with me. “That sounds fun. It’s a date, Mr. Davenport,” she then adds when she takes my elbow, making me release the breath I was holding.
And it’s so nice to have her holding on to me that I hope she never let's go, especially when we leave the hotel. I like Brayden laying claim to me. It means that when I glare at the dirty gawkers who are checking her out that they’re actually deterred.
Since we’re on the strip with a ton of hotels and restaurants, we find Brayden some heels and then walk to a steakhouse that we both agree looks great. It’s early, not quite six o’clock, so we don’t even have to wait for a table.
“I’m starving,” Brayden says as we look over the menu, making me remember that we didn’t have anything for lunch today.
“Sorry, I should have fed you sooner,” I tell her.
“We were busy, and I didn’t even think about it,” she replies.
After the waitress takes our orders and brings our drinks, I try to relax a little since my shoulders feel tight with tension, nervous about how the hell to make a move. I don’t even have any moves, so I don’t know exactly how to make it clear to Brayden that I want to kiss her and hold her tonight when we’re in bed together. Even if that’s all we do, I would be a happy man. My concern is that may be asking too much from her, and then I’ll have gone and fucked up this good thing we’ve had together ever since we met. The two of us just clicked, like we were long lost friends who just haven’t seen each other in a while, rather than complete strangers who happen to know a few of the same people. Like her father.
Fuck, no. Don’t even think about Walter Chambers.
Screw my boss. He hasn’t even asked about her again after his response to my email yesterday morning that simply said, “Thanks for the update, Logan.”
The first step in trying to show Brayden I want more is to get to know her better. “So what are you studying at college?” I ask.
When her face falls, I know that was the wrong question to ask.
Fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth, she says, “I flunked out.”
“What?” I ask in shock since I know Brayden is a bright girl, so it’s no
t that she wasn’t smart enough.
“My dad is gonna be pissed when I tell him. It’s all on me, too. I stopped going to class, and of course, I failed all but one of them this semester.”
“Jesus, Brayden. Why did you stop going?” I ask with concern.
“I still haven't decided on a major because I don’t know what I want to do. And the classes I was taking didn’t really interest me,” she replies with a shrug of her shoulders. “I want to find a major, hell, even a direction in life, but it feels like I’m always spinning in a circle.”
“It’s hard to decide when there are so many choices,” I assure her. “What do you enjoy doing? What are you good at?” I ask.
“Nothing,” she answers right away. “I don’t have any hobbies, and I’m not good at anything.”
“Don’t say that,” I tell her. Reaching across the table, I cover her hand with mine and squeeze it. “I know there must be plenty of things that you’re great at. Let’s start with what do you like to do in your free time?”
“Read. Dance, but just for fun. Travel, but I’ve been to a lot of places already…”
“Okay, so based on those things, you could be a librarian or…a book reviewer,” I suggest off the top of my head.
Brayden grins and says, “I think libraries are going extinct thanks to eBooks, but maybe I could do reviews. That’s not exactly a great way to make money, though.”
“Not everything has to be about making money. I didn’t become a lawyer because of the pay. If you had a popular review website, though, you could monetize it with ads, recommend books on sites with affiliate programs.”
“Hmm, I never thought of that,” Brayden says. “You’re a pretty smart cookie, Mr. Davenport.”
“I have my moments,” I reply with a grin. Giving her hand one last squeeze, I pull it away from hers.
“You have a lot of moments,” she tells me, and I practically beam from her compliment.
Wait a second. Is Brayden flirting with me? God, I hope so.
“Let’s go dancing tonight,” she says out of the blue.
“Dancing?” I repeat.
“Yeah, I love to dance, but I don’t get to do it very often.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “You’ve never seen me try to dance. Try being the keyword. You may change your mind as soon as you see my moves.”
“I don’t care if you’re awful at it, I want to see all of your moves,” Brayden tells me. “Please?”
Jesus. When did one word start having such an impact on me? There’s nothing I would refuse this woman, even the horror that is me trying to dance.
“Okay, we’ll go dancing,” I agree, causing Brayden to cheer in her seat. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Chapter Nineteen
Brayden
“Come on. Dance with me, Logan,” I beg him while tugging on his hand when one of my favorite songs comes on. We’ve been in the club for over twenty minutes now, and he hasn’t stepped foot in the direction of the dance floor.
“I dunno,” he replies with a shake of his head. “It’s gonna be bad.”
“Pretty please?” I beg. “I don’t want to go out on the dance floor alone.”
That makes him cave faster than I expect. He stops resisting and lets me pull him out to the edge of the crowd.
I put my arms in the air and start swaying my hips with Logan inches away but not touching me. And then he starts to move to the rhythm, and it’s all I can do not to fall over laughing, because he looks ridiculous.
“You were right,” I lean forward and grab onto his shoulders to get close enough for him to hear me. Getting to touch him is a nice bonus. “You can’t dance!”
Resting his hand on my lower back to pull me closer to get to my ear, he says “I told you so. And I’m way too old to be out here.”
“No, you’re not. You just need to loosen up a little,” I tell Logan as I put my arms around his neck and step closer to him so that his leg is between the two of mine.
“What are you doing, Brayden?” he asks, yet he doesn’t put any space between us. In fact, he wraps his arms around me and presses his hips closer. Close enough that I can feel his hard length against my leg.
“I want you. And you obviously want me too,” I say with my lips pressed against his ear before pulling back enough to look down at where our bodies are bumping and grinding against each other.
“We can’t…I shouldn’t,” he says instead of denying it.
When I start to take a step back, Logan pulls me closer, and then his mouth is covering mine. His kiss is rough and demanding, and I love it. And when his tongue forces entry past my lips, I can’t open up fast enough. No longer dancing to the beat of the music, our bodies move against each other frantically, needing to be closer.
Logan eventually breaks contact with my mouth, but only because he wants to put his lips on my neck.
“Oh, god,” I moan as I melt bonelessly right there in his arms. “It’s our last night. Let’s make the most of it,” I tell him over the music with a tug of my fingers in his hair. “Take me back to the hotel?” I ask.
Panting, Logan’s lips come back to nip at my ear when he answers. “I don’t know if I can make it that far.”
Oh, hell no. I can’t go down the road of public indecency again.
“We have to,” I tell him. “Come on,” I say, grabbing his hand to lead him toward the nearest exit sign. Out on the sidewalk, while we wait for a cab, Logan doesn’t make things easy for me. Standing behind me, his mouth keeps working on my neck while his arms wrap around me to hold me against the front of his body, making sure I feel every hard inch of him against my ass.
“Logan,” I warn as my knees turn wobbly, barely able to keep me standing.
“You sure we can’t…”
“No. Hotel. Now,” I urge him between gasps. “Please.”
“Okay,” he agrees. Then again more firmly, “Okay.” Letting me go, he comes up beside me and tries to hail a ride for us. “Why did we have to be miles away from the hotel when we decide to do this?” he asks.
“Poor planning on our parts,” I joke.
“Really, it is. We’ve spent hours in that room together. Days. And now it feels like we’re a thousand miles away from that damn bed that you’ve slept in with me, making me so strung out I couldn’t sleep a wink.”
“Really?” I ask since I had no idea it was that bad for him.
“Fuck yes. Why do you think I’ve been taking three showers a day?”
Glancing down at the tenting behind his zipper, I say, “So you were…”
“Jerking off like a teenage boy with his first Playboy? Yeah.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I was trying to avoid this, because it’s not a good idea. I wasn’t trying to be a tease.”
“I know,” he agrees as he steps out in the street to try and wave down a car. As a yellow cab finally slows down and pulls over, Logan turns to me and says, “But you’ve got from now until we get to the room to decide what you want; because if we don’t do this, I don’t think I can take another night in bed with you. And I may have to sleep in a cold tub of water.”
Reaching for his face to pull it down so I can brush my lips over his, I tell him, “I want you. I’ve wanted you from the very first night I saw you. But tonight is all I can do. We can’t see each other when we get back home.”
Logan stares at me silently until the cab driver beeps his horn to hurry us up.
“I know, you’re right,” he eventually agrees with a sigh, because he clearly knows that if my dad found out, he could lose his job. But what he doesn’t know is that, if we had any type of relationship back home, even friendship, he would be in so much more danger than he can imagine.
“Then let’s go,” I encourage. Opening the door to the back seat, I slide in first, and Logan follows me.
He gives the driver the name of our hotel and then pulls me onto his lap in one swift move, kissing me all the way back with his hands in m
y hair, refusing to let me even think of stopping. Not that I would. How could I when his hot and sensual mouth is on mine, his tongue demanding entry to give me a preview of the way he plans to be moving inside of me very soon. I can’t wait. If I didn’t think we would get arrested, I would undo his pants and fuck him right here in the back seat of the cab. That’s how desperate I am for this man, have been for days now, but both of us were trying to keep ourselves in check and resist the temptation.
No more.
The journey to our villa is a blur. We don’t even make it inside before Logan pins me to the door with a kiss. My legs are still wrapped around his waist when he eventually opens the door with his keycard and carries me inside. He doesn’t stop until we’re up the stairs, and he’s laying me on the bed and following me down. From there, we tug and pull at each other’s clothing until all of it is off.
Just when we’re finally getting to the good part, the head of Logan’s cock is pushing against my entrance, he pulls back from our kiss and shouts, “Fuck!”
“What?” I ask with concern.
“I don’t have any condoms,” he looks down and tells me, the disappointment evident on his face. “I never expected…and then I didn’t want to presume…”
My sexy lawyer is even formal when we’re about to fuck. That thought makes me smile up at him.
“If we don’t have a condom, then I guess you’ll have to finish in my mouth,” I suggest. The words barely leave my lips before Logan’s hips thrust forward and his thick length fills me up, making me gasp.
“You are…the perfect…woman,” Logan says as his lips move down my neck and he starts moving in and out of me, a little harder and a little deeper with each pump of his hips. I hold onto him tight and lift my hips to meet his increasing rhythm. He’s so big, he takes up every inch of space available when our bodies join, and I never want him to stop.
“God, Logan. You feel so good,” I tell him as he slams home over and over again.
Bracing his weight on one of his hands above my head, his other moves between our bodies where his fingertips press against my clit.