by Petrova, Em
He had to get back to business.
Once the four of them had stuffed themselves, the newlyweds were eager to get to the honeymoon and Jordana and Logan were happy to send them off. Jordana hugged her sister and kissed her brother-in-law on the cheek before they headed to the villa.
Meanwhile, Logan’s phone kept buzzing and ringing at every available moment, but this time, he couldn’t ignore it, as much as he wanted to. Jordana retreated to her room as he took another call. Minutes after he wrapped up another conversation with one of his managing directors, he came to her door, seeing her curled up on the bed taking a nap.
He quietly closed her door and shut himself in his own room, first showering and shaving before heading to a private den, booting his laptop to life. However, three hours later, instead of his workload dwindling down to a manageable pile, it had only multiplied. This was why he didn’t take last-minute trips. And he was going to have to cut this one short.
When he emerged from the den around four o’clock, he found Jordana in the living room, legs tucked under her, fresh and casual in a pair of white capris and a yellow blouse as she read a book. Did she have any idea how beautiful she was? He rounded her chaise, and when she lifted her sweet gaze to his, he wanted to curse for the disappointing news he was about to impart.
“Good nap?”
She sighed with a smile. “Yes. I needed that. My sister wears me out.”
I want to wear you out in bed. One more time before we leave. “This morning was fun. And a first for me. I’ve never been to a Vegas wedding.”
“Now you can cross it off your bucket list.”
Unable to resist, he pulled her up from her relaxing pose, wrapped his arms around her trim waist, and slowly brought his lips to hers. He felt her smile against his mouth first before he deepened the kiss with a slip of his tongue, and she opened with a whimper, flattening her palms on his chest before grasping his biceps, digging her fingers in.
He just made this a thousand times harder. No. He couldn’t take her to bed.
Breaking away, he pressed his forehead against hers. He shouldn’t start something he couldn’t finish. “I have to go back to San Francisco.”
“Work is calling?”
“Yes, unfortunately it won’t be ignored for even a day.” He sighed. “I’m heading back in an hour.”
“So soon?”
“Believe me, if there was a way to stay here, I would. But I’m afraid my board of directors will use my head for a bowling ball if I do. Mr. Hamilton is giving my staff multiple migraines.” She smiled, but when she pulled away, he couldn’t help the guilt punching his gut. “I have arranged for a first-class flight for you in the morning. Feel free to do anything you like. See a show. Go shopping.” His smile faded as she cast her gaze down. “Look, I never promised the whole weekend, Jordana—”
“No,” she quickly interrupted. “I know you didn’t. I don’t want to stay if you’re leaving. I’d rather go home with you.”
“I didn’t want to drag you home when you’re more than welcome to stay,” he explained. “Take advantage of the hotel amenities, have a little fun.”
“I’ve had more than enough fun,” she arched with a soft smile.
Another first. He couldn’t name one woman in his past who wouldn’t take advantage of his offer. What woman didn’t like to shop or go to the spa on someone else’s credit card? He wanted her to enjoy herself to the maximum, not hustle to the airport on last-minute notice. But it looked like she was coming home with him and he liked that.
Ninety minutes later, they were in the air, and the Strip—their night together—was behind them. This time, he declined any alcohol and forced himself to work. There wasn’t much conversation between him and Jordana, and much to his aggravation, the silence distracted him more than a marching band in the aisle would have.
The flight attendant, who sensed Logan’s all-business attitude as soon as he boarded the plane, had offered Jordana a variety of entertainment for the flight, trying to minimize the chance his lady friend would distract him. Jordana sported a pair of Bose headphones, watching an episode of some sitcom. Every time he heard her laugh, even as she tried to suppress it, he wanted to swipe the paperwork from his lap and watch the comedy with her.
He sighed, dropping his head back on the headrest.
Jordana Shaw, though perfect for the bedroom, was not good for his business.
***
They sat in silence as the car came to a stop in front of Jordana’s apartment building.
She broke the quiet before he could. “Logan, I can’t thank you enough. I had a wonderful time. So many…unexpected things happened.” She leaned over, her hand gentle against his cheek as she kissed his lips.
Before he knew what to say or do next, his mind racing with his next action, she was climbing out. Tom unlocked the trunk to help her with her suitcase and walked her up.
What the hell was he doing sitting in the car? To hell with work; it could wait another night.
His driver slid into the front seat and pulled the car into motion.
“Tom.”
The car halted. Tom’s gaze shifted to the rearview mirror. “Apartment 303, sir.”
He jogged to the top floor, realizing it had been a few days since he had done any real cardio. Leaning his hands on the doorframe, he questioned his sanity. With work breathing down his neck, what was he doing in front of her apartment?
The door opened before he could knock. Her eyes widened, but he wasn’t sure if it was due to the fact he was a little breathless or because he was standing there. A wry smile formed on her sweet mouth while she stood there adorable and sexy in her bare feet. “What are you doing?”
He dropped his arms. “I don’t know about you, but…I don’t want our weekend to end yet.” Taking a step, he bored his eyes into hers. “I’ve been trying to keep my hands off you all afternoon, and honestly, I don’t know how I got this far. I know it looked like I was getting a hell of a lot of work done on the plane, but I was actually too busy watching you watch TV.” Now that he had begun spilling his thoughts, he couldn’t contain them. “This weekend—”
She covered his mouth with her fingers and then slowly smiled. “Are you going to be mad to know you could’ve simply walked in and kissed me when I opened the door?”
With a grin, he caught her in his arms and kicked the door closed behind him. He claimed her lips without another word, a relieved moan coming from his throat. Somehow, they found their way to her bedroom without breaking the kiss. Instead of taking his time, his hunger overtook slow seduction as he landed on top of her when she pulled him down between her legs.
He pushed her top and bra up to slide his tongue from under her breast to the tip of her nipple. She gasped and arched as he sucked on the peak, lifting her hips. With her help, he pulled her top off, and then his shirt, before he dove in to capture her lips, reveling in the way her breasts felt pressed against his chest. In fevered desperation, he kicked off his shoes, stripped off his pants and underwear, and then made quick removal of hers. Addicted to the smell and smoothness of her skin, he hungrily pressed wet kisses on her chest, up to her delicate throat.
“Logan,” she said achingly.
His fingers grazed the wetness between her thighs, and she clenched her nails into his shoulders. She was so warm, so soft, so responsive. She grasped his face in her hands and kissed him, wrapping her legs around his waist.
“Condom,” she whispered breathlessly, “in my nightstand.”
He found one and rolled it on in what had to be a record-breaking time. She spread her legs, gorgeous and ready for him. He grasped her right knee and entered her with a swift thrust. A low groan escaped before he could smother it. Moving his hips, he started a rhythm, slow and precise, then harder as he rotated his hips, needing to go deeper. With small cries, she met his thrusts, scraping her nails down his back. As they rocked together feverishly, he grasped her wrists and held her down.
He
r little smile told him she liked that.
His balls tickled, an orgasm so close, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.
Sweat rolled down the side of his face as he caught and held those pretty eyes, feeling a piece of himself get lost in them, worried he would never get it back. Her sounds increased in volume, and as soon as she climaxed, he let himself go, coming hard.
He moved behind her, tucked her body into his, and set his arm around her. When she took his hand, squeezed it, and held it close to her chest, his pounding heart gave a lurch.
She was unlike any woman he’d ever been with. But that didn’t mean anything, did it? Only that he finally found someone he wanted to continue seeing more than usual.
How long would it take before they got bored with one another, his cynical side leered. Because, eventually, it would happen.
Chapter Eleven
The fact Logan stayed had been unexpected. She thought for sure he would drop her off so he could handle the business he had to leave Vegas for.
But he didn’t. He made love to her and spent the night.
She’d been awake for a while and could see her phone’s screen flashing and wanted to make sure Lucee hadn’t been trying to reach her. Easy to imagine her sister and brother-in-law stranded in Vegas because they’d run out of money. Those two could go nuts at a craps table. And go broke.
As she attempted to slip out of Logan’s hold, she gasped when caught by his strong hands and guided to sit on top of him. A low laugh escaped her, transitioning to a moan as he ran his hands up her back sensuously, bringing his mouth to her nipple. Her lips parted on a breath as he sucked. Frissons of electric desire licked up her spine. Her toes curled.
She found her last condom deep in her nightstand and helped him roll it on. He cupped her bottom, lifting her to set her on his cock. As she came down on his thick shaft, she gasped and then laced her fingers with his while she rode him slowly, quietly, as the foggy morning breeze blew through the small crack in her window. Logan groaned through clenched teeth, gripping her hips, murmuring how good it felt, to go faster. Panting, with her hands pressed on the tight planes of his chest, she complied, closing her eyes, letting her orgasm build. Soon, she cried out with shattering ecstasy and Logan’s deep moan followed.
As she slowed down, limbs weighted, she opened her eyes to catch Logan gazing up at her, a strange look in his blue pools. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths as he grazed up her arm, eliciting a shiver on her damp skin. He skimmed his knuckles to her cheek, fingering down her throat to grasp her neck and pull her down. She laid her head on him, listening to his heart pound.
The clouds shifted in front of the sun, darkening the room one minute, allowing flashes of sunshine the next. Jordana didn’t know how much time had passed as they lay there, both awake but saying nothing as he played with her hair.
“I like your place,” he told her. “It’s cozy. Lots of color and character. It’s nice waking up in a home that actually looks lived in. Is that a ladder made into a bookshelf?”
She glanced at the paint-splattered wooden ladder nailed in the corner of her bedroom. Too rickety for its original intention, she’d almost thrown it away, but then she got inspired after seeing one in a magazine. “I have so little floor space in here, and I needed a bookcase. It’d been sitting in my storage for years, useless. Now it has a whole new function.”
“Very clever. My house could use some personal touches. If you’ll recall, it has the particularly frigid palate of gray and dark gray in most of its rooms.”
“Why haven’t you changed it?”
“No time. I guess I could hire someone to decorate it, but what’s the point? I’m happy with the way it is. How long have you lived here?”
She lifted her head, moved her hand on his chest, and rested her chin. “It’ll be three years this January. Although I’m going to have to move once my lease is up. They’re raising the rent.”
He shifted an arm behind his head. “That’s too bad. Although, it is a bit of commute to work, isn’t it?”
With a yawn, she forced herself to peel off him. Nothing compared to morning sex, but coffee had to follow. “Who doesn’t commute long hours to work in this state? I’m used to it.”
“Have you ever thought about moving a little closer to San Francisco? By Dr. Palecki’s?”
“Sure I have, but I can’t afford it on my own, and I’ve vowed never to get another roommate if I can help it.”
“I don’t blame you on that end. Mind if I take liberty of your shower?” he asked, getting up.
“It’s all yours,” she said with a smile, catching a glimpse of his manly physique before he disappeared into her bathroom. After checking her phone, she sighed in relief the only messages she’d missed were a couple from her friends. Nothing urgent. Guess she would always worry about Lucee to some degree.
While she poured her coffee, she heard Logan moving about in her bedroom after his shower. She anticipated spending more of her Sunday morning with him. Giddily, in fact.
Her wood floor creaked as Logan came down the hall. She leaned against her counter, stirring the cream in her coffee, watching him saunter in. Fresh from the shower, his hair was still slightly damp, and since he hadn’t shaved, he wore that day-old beard and rugged look once more.
He gave her a sexy half smile. “What?”
Suppressing a dreamy sigh, she asked, “Coffee?” then blew on the steaming Jamaican blend in her cup.
“You already know the answer,” he drawled, pulling out a chair at her two-person table. His size dwarfed the petite piece of furniture.
She filled another mug and carried it to him. “Cream is in the little white pot, sugar is in the blue one. If you need any.”
“I’m sweet already.”
She laughed and then moved to get the clutter off the table. “Oh. Sorry, I’ll get that out of your way.”
Giving her project as assessing look, he shook his head, preventing her from taking it. “It’s not in my way at all. What is it?” He began flipping through her book. “You made this?”
“Yes,” she replied with an almost harassed note in her voice, embarrassed because it was unfinished and she didn’t like anyone to see her projects while they were in progress. Sketches of story characters she’d made were glued on colored paper, the book was tied together with ribbon, and random stickers she’d collected covered the pages. She stood there holding her breath as he read through the entire story.
“This is pretty good. I didn’t know you could draw.” Running his fingers over the page, he said, “I like the premise. Betsy unlocks her grandmother’s basement door with her magical key, she meets a famous person from the past, and she spends the day with them learning their historical contributions and what it was like to live in that time period. Pretty cool idea.”
“Thanks.” She went to retrieve it from his hands.
“I had no idea you wrote children’s books.”
She tucked it in a drawer. “I’m just an amateur. Not published or anything.”
He sat back with his coffee, crossing his ankle over a knee. “Looks like you put some serious work into it. I distinctly remember you telling me how you like to watch the History Channel. Now I get it.”
Her cheeks heated. Oh, yeah. She’d forgotten about sharing that tidbit the first night they met. She sat down across from him and picked up her mug with both hands, taking a sip. “It’s a good stress reliever. I’ll give them to Lucee’s kids someday. If she has any.”
“There’s more than one?”
She nodded. “I’ve finished five so far.”
“Really?” His brows rose. “Show me.”
Disbelieving his interest, she cast him a leery look. “You want to see the others?”
He grinned. “Sure. I love a good history lesson with my first cup of coffee.”
Surprised and delighted, she went to grab the other projects from a box in her living room. Even Zack hadn’t cared to look at her stuff wi
th anything more than grudging interest. In fact, he’d often complained about her hobby because it sometimes took her attention away from him. When she felt inspired, hours could go by before she quit.
More than anything, she loved working on them in her free time, and having someone else interested in her work meant the world to her. Trying not to show too much girlish excitement, she handed the stack to Logan.
He read through each story at length, sipping his coffee, at times chuckling, especially at the one with Willis Carrier, who invented air conditioning. How wonderful to have Logan in her kitchen, reading her books. She could get used to this.
Finished, he smacked the stack of them and said, “That’s it. You should have them published. It’s creative, educational. I really liked the story about Charles Goodyear, and how he showed Betsy that even at his lowest in life, poverty-stricken, called a madman, he never gave up on his mission to make rubber melt-proof. I’m sure there’s a publisher out there who would jump on these.”
She twisted her mouth wryly. “I already tried. Multiple times.”
“With who?”
“Let’s see.” She counted them off her fingers. “Green Castle Group, Poppy Seed Publications, Hampton-Rogers Books. All rejections. One even said they enjoyed the stories but didn’t see a market for them. I’m sure my last attempt will fall in line with the rest.”
“Who’s the final attempt?”
“Triton Press. Heard of them?”
He rested a forearm on the table. “They sound familiar. In any case, I don’t think you should give up, even if Triton happens to turn you down. There’s always the possibility of self-publishing, right? It’s obvious from the work you put into it and the little gleam in your eyes, you love to make them. I’m no pro in the children’s fiction market, but I know talent when I see it.”
“Then you’re the only one.” She gathered the bunch, winking at him. “I thought about self-publishing, but it’s a lot of labor. You’re in charge of everything. Marketing, illustrations, editing. I’d rather just write the story and let someone else handle all that.”