by Layla Hagen
“I thought you didn’t have time,” I tease, licking my lips.
“I’ll always make time to pleasure you. Besides, you’ll have another orgasm in less than two minutes. You’re still sensitive.”
“I am—” I begin, but my words fade as Logan presses his thumb on my bundle of nerves, sliding his fingers inside me. Instinctively, my hips thrust forward as my back flattens on the tiles. They’re cold and, coupled with the intense heat inside me, the feeling becomes too much. Everything is too much—the knowledge that he takes pleasure in giving me pleasure, and having his hands on me. Inside me is a better description. His fingers do wonders thrusting inside me again and again, finally curving and touching my sweet spot while his palm presses on my clit.
My release is brutal. I writhe and moan, fisting his hair and pulling him into a kiss.
He holds me in his arms until I calm down, and reality slowly slips in.
“Oh, wow. I’m sorry for your suit.”
“No, you’re not.” Logan grins. “You’ve wanted this since I came home.”
“Yes,” I admit. “But in my fantasy, you weren’t wearing your suit. Though it was hot.”
I drink in his disheveled appearance. There’s something incredibly sexy about making a man like Logan Bennett lose control this way.
“You should go change,” I tell him.
Giving me a quick kiss, he rises, arranging his clothes. When he steps out, he drips through the entire bathroom. To my astonishment, he returns a few short minutes later.
***
Logan
“You haven’t changed,” Nadine says.
“Not the suit, but I’ve changed my mind. Scoot over.”
“Are you—”
With a loud splash, I jump in the tub with her again, my clothes still on.
“I canceled the meeting. And this is the very first time I’ve done that.”
“You’re saying that so I feel special.”
“You are special to me.”
I grip her hips, pulling her into my lap. Her knees are at my sides, her sex pressing on the zipper of my pants. Cupping her cheek with one hand, I give her a quick smooch before lowering my lips to her neck, then down her chest.
“Logan.”
I trail my lips up once more, reaching her ear. I’m hard again. “You make me want things, Nadine.”
“What kind of things?”
“Things I didn’t want to want. Like waking up next to you every morning, and wishing neither of us went to work so we could spend time together. I don’t care if we’re making love, eating takeout, or renovating your shop. Even watching you sleep makes me smile. The more time I spend with you, the more I want.”
I pull back, searching her eyes. Different emotions are warring in their blue depths, reflecting the same torment taking over inside of me. The desire to throw all caution to the wind and jump into this relationship with both feet competes with the fear of heartbreak and disappointment.
“We’ll figure this out together. I’ll do the right thing by you, no matter what. You deserve it.”
Despite the heat of the water, Nadine shivers. This was supposed to be just fun. We agreed to it. If I’m honest, though, I knew deep down that it’d be so much more than that right from the beginning. Everything about her is consuming. I trace her lower lip with my thumb.
“You’re a wonderful man, Logan,” she murmurs. “We said we’d take things slow.”
I nod, smiling. “Yeah.” We’re not taking it slow, and we both know it. Neither of us says it out loud, though. We’re accomplices on this journey of restoring each other’s broken hearts. “I promise—”
“Don’t make me any promises, Logan,” she interrupts. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything.”
“Okay.”
“Actually, I changed my mind. I do want you to make me one promise.” She pauses as if expecting me to say something. “Why aren’t you surprised?”
“I have three sisters. I know all women are bipolar.”
She throws her head back, laughing loud and long. God, I love her laughter, and I love being the reason for it. “That's one hell of a research-based conclusion there, but I fear you’re right.”
“So, what was that promise you wanted?”
“That you’ll never lie to me.”
“I promise.”
She nods, her shoulders relaxing. “Have you found an antidote to your sisters’ bipolarity?”
I don’t hesitate. “Chocolate. If that fails, I keep my distance, but it almost always works. I have the best chocolate shop in San Francisco on speed dial.”
“What if it’s late at night?” she asks playfully. “Surely they’re closed.”
“Not for me.”
“Oh, right, I forgot. You’re Logan Bennett. You can make everyone do what you want with a few words.”
“Except you. I actually have to work to convince you.”
“I’m afraid that won’t change, Mr. Bennett.” Her voice is serious, but her expression betrays her. She’s on the verge of bursting out laughing once again.
“I like it, Ms. Hawthorne. You keep me on my toes. That makes me crazy for you.”
We’re both laughing now.
She taunts me, moving her ass right over my erection. I open my mouth, but a groan comes out instead of words.
“Do you have trouble speaking, Mr. Bennett?”
I growl then kiss her mouth. She pretends to fight me off, but I grip her wrists.
“You little fighter. Even in your sleep, you fight. You kick me when I touch you at night.”
“I do not do that,” she says horrified.
“Yes, you do. Every time I try to touch you in your sleep.”
“You shouldn’t touch me when I’m asleep, you pervert.”
“Unfair accusation, coming from someone who’s currently dry-humping me.”
“Wet-humping is the right term, since we’re in a tub full of water. Are you complaining?” She pushes herself up briefly, but I grip her hips and pull her against me. Hard. Her clit collides with my erection, and Nadine gasps, her body quivering. She grasps the edges of the tub, her chest heaving up and down with labored breaths. I gave my woman a mini-orgasm.
“Why don’t you get out of this shirt?” she asks after regaining her breath.
“You don’t like it? I was under the impression you loved my shirts. You wear them inside the apartment all the time.”
“I’ve also stolen some of your socks,” she adds. “They’re so comfortable.” Licking her lips, she runs her hands over my soaked shirt. She wants me naked. “Shirt. Off. Now.”
“Nah, I’m good,” I tease. “It’s wet anyway.”
“You’ll ruin it.”
I chuckle. “You just want to see me naked.”
“I always want to see you naked, but in the bathtub, it’s a normal state of being.”
I kiss her slowly, drawing whimpers and moans out of her.
“Thank God you didn’t have your smartphone in your pocket when I first dragged you in the water,” she says.
“I had it in the back pocket of my pants.”
“No way.”
“Lucky I have a spare one.”
“I ruin everything. Your headboard, your phone.”
“Don’t forget the shirt,” I add in a low voice.
“What? I didn’t ruin your shirt.”
Gesturing to it, I challenge her. “The night’s still young.”
Within the next few minutes, I find out Nadine’s not only good at sewing clothes.
She excels at ripping them apart too.
Chapter Twelve
Nadine
Thanks to the Bennett clan, I’m able to open the store ahead of schedule, and as the opening day approaches, my nerves stretch thinner. I’ll be opening four weeks before Christmas, and I’ve already decorated the shop. It’s warm and welcoming, even if there’s still work to be done. I send Mom a picture after I finish decorating, and she replies with a smi
ley face. God, I really want this shop to succeed, so I can bring Mom and Brian here. My stomach churns at the thought of going back to North Carolina if I fail. I dread this outcome now even more than I did before I moved, and I know why: Logan.
The Friday before the opening, he puts his foot down. I’ve been in the store the entire day, cleaning and polishing everything. Despite the fact that everything is in place ready for customers on Monday, I still feel it’s not ready.
“There’s nothing for you to do here anymore. You need to go out.”
“But I’m opening the store in three days,” I protest. “There must be something left to do. I just don’t remember it.” I tightly clutch the rag I’ve been using to clean the dust.
Logan gently puts one hand on my arm, tilting my chin up with the other.
“You’ve worked non-stop lately. You don’t sleep well, and you don’t eat much. Nadine, you’re exhausted. You need a break.”
His concern fills me with joy. I can’t believe he noticed all those things about me. He’s right, of course. I don’t sleep well, often waking up several times a night, remembering yet another task I must do and jotting it quickly on my phone, so I don’t forget it. Logan’s a light sleeper, so more often than not I also wake him. Then he’ll wrap his arms around my waist, pulling me to him. Feeling his body cocooned to mine calms me every time. It gives me a sense of security.
But now, I’m in crazy mode. Surely, I have forgotten to do something. Logan seems to be reading my thoughts. His eyes narrow and just like that, he’s done being gentle.
“Do you like ballet?” he asks.
“Yes. I love it, but—”
“We’re going out. It’s not negotiable.” Snatching the rag out of my hand, he throws it on the counter. With nothing between us, he closes the distance and kisses me silly. I respond in kind, grabbing his hair, pressing my breasts against his steely chest. His cologne is intoxicating, his kiss even more so.
“You’re a caveman; you know that?” I mutter after we pull apart.
“I never pretended not to be.”
“You recommended yourself as a gentleman, when we first met. Turns out there’s as much ‘cave’ as there is ‘gentle’ in you, Mr. Bennett.”
“I call that well-rounded, Ms. Hawthorne.” He grins, and I can’t help but smile back. “Let’s go. If you don’t agree, I’m not above throwing you over my shoulder and walking into the theater. You need a break, Nadine. You’re going to get one whether you want it or not.”
How can I say no to his dark, piercing eyes? They’re full of concern and lust. It’s a sexy look on him but, then again, every look is sexy on Logan. I’m tempted to argue some more, to see if he’d actually throw me over his shoulder. I suspect he would, which sends jolts of heat down my center. I choose the peaceful way.
“Fine, what ballet are we watching?”
Logan gives a triumphant fist pump in the air. “The Nutcracker. Pippa, Blake, and Daniel will be there.”
I smile, threading my fingers at the back of his neck. “Oh, that’s fun.”
“We have to be there in two hours.”
I pout. “That doesn’t give me much time to prepare.”
“Wear one of your dresses,” he says. The huskiness in his voice sends ripples down my back.
“I’ll grab one, and we can go to your apartment to change.”
I’ve brought the dresses I designed to the shop this week and arranged my favorite ones beautifully on dummies. The expensive designer dresses are still back at my place.
I grab a dress from a hanger, and we head to his apartment. Dressing up doesn’t take me long, but I spend enough time on hair and makeup to make Logan impatient. I don’t hold back, smearing on red lipstick and styling my hair in a wild, voluminous do. The daring hairstyle matches the dress, which is long and fashioned out of black silk. It doesn’t show cleavage unless you stare straight from above, but it is backless.
When I step into the living room, Logan whistles. “Damn, woman! You’re making me seriously reconsidering going out.” I twirl once and take a slow bow, giving him full view of my cleavage. He lets out a heavy breath.
“After taking forever to prepare, you can be very sure we’re going out.” I accentuate every word with a shake of my finger.
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. I want to show off the dress.” He strides to me and I take a few steps back, knowing his proximity will cloud my judgment. Predictably, I hit the wall, and Logan loses no time in trapping me between his arms.
“I can think of a better use of this dress than showing it off.” His eyes darken as he speaks. Lust and masculinity pour off him, and it’s turning my knees to rubber.
“What’s that?” I murmur.
“Taking it off.” His fingers linger at the hem of my neckline, the callused tips barely touching my skin. I shudder, licking my lips. “I wouldn’t be gentle. It begs to be ripped off you.”
“No chance. I worked months on this dress.”
He chuckles. “Fine, I don’t need to take it off at all.”
Before I have a chance to process his words, he turns me around, pressing himself against my naked back.
“You’re so beautiful, Nadine.” Pushing my hair to one side, he kisses the back of my neck. “So sexy. You look fantastic in this dress.” His hot breath across my skin accompanies every word. I want this man. Now. He touches my bare back with one hand, pulling my dress up with the other, grazing my inner thigh in the process. Almost involuntarily, I push my ass back and let out a moan. Logan’s hard for me already.
“Condom,” he murmurs. “Wait.”
He leaves the room briefly, returning with his zipper open and his pants pushed slightly down, having already rolled the condom over his erection. He settles himself behind me again, cinching my dress up to my waist and parting my legs. God, I’m dripping for him.
“You’re so wet already,” he whispers, as he slides my thong to one side.
I lose myself in the sea of sensations and emotions as his big hands and hungry lips explore me. Logan more than touches me—he worships me. Every part of me. He nibbles my earlobe, moving the tip of his erection around my clit, his length pressing on my slit. He circles my clit with his tip again, and again, until my knees wobble.
“I need you inside me now,” I say between moans. “I want to feel all of you.”
“Oh, you will. You will feel me so deep inside you that you’ll pass out from pleasure.” His promise still on his lips, he thrusts inside me.
“Logan.” My legs tremble in earnest now as I take him in, stretching around his length. In this position, he’s deeper inside me than ever before. I give myself to him completely as he makes love to me hard and fast, grunting out my name as we climax.
***
Logan holds my hand when we enter the venue, minutes before the showing is about to begin. I’m still blushing from our sexy episode before we left his apartment. We exchange furtive glances every few seconds.
The venue is packed, but we find Pippa, Blake, and Daniel almost immediately, chatting animatedly near the entrance. Women throw the twins appreciative glances.
“So, the theater is one of your pickup places?” I ask jokingly.
“It can be.” Blake answers. “But tonight, we have a date with our sister.” In unison, the twins each take Pippa by an arm.
“Nadine, what are you wearing?” She inspects me from head to toe. “It’s gorgeous. I’m going to steal that.”
“It’s one of my designs.”
Pippa’s mouth opens, her gaze slipping to Logan for a brief second before returning to me. “Girl, I’ll come by on Monday the second you open and ravage your stock.”
“Can’t wait.”
“Seriously, I’d love to see some of your other dresses too.”
“Sure, I’d be happy to.” My heart soars with excitement at her appreciation. As we go into the box for the performance, Pippa whispers something I don’t catch to Logan, and both glance at m
e with a quizzical expression, like they’re sharing an inside joke.
Before we take our seats, Logan whispers to me, “I’m very proud of you.” He pinches my ass for good measure, doing that thing again when he makes me feel like a girl and a woman all at the same time.
I’ll never get enough of Logan, and that scares me even more than the opening on Monday.
***
Two hours later, we leave the box, chatting animatedly while making our way to the exit. We’re almost at the door when Pippa comes to an abrupt halt, turning white. The men stop too, but they are far from pale—all three of them are red in the face. Blake even clenches his fists.
A man in his late thirties with brown hair and green eyes stops in front of us.
“Pippa, what a surprise.” His tone is glacial. Next to me, Logan stiffens. The man surveys the party, stepping in front of me.
“I’m Terence Lancaster.”
Suddenly, I understand everyone’s reaction. He’s Pippa’s ex-husband, also known as asshole extraordinaire, ranking even above Thomas. He holds out his hand to me. I shake it shortly, not wanting to add to the tension.
“Coming with your brothers to the opera, Pippa? Couldn’t pay a man to join you?”
Pippa pales even more at his words. If I hadn’t already disliked Terence on principle alone, now I hate his guts.
“Let’s step outside and you make that remark again,” Logan says. “I don’t want to spoil the carpet here.”
“You always did have a temper,” Terence tells Logan.
“So do we,” Daniel says. He and Blake both have their hands in fists at their sides.
“You can’t talk to our sister like that,” Blake booms. Several people passing by throw us alarmed glances.
Terence rolls his eyes, though I detect a flicker of fear in them. “Where is Sebastian?”
“You’re out of luck today,” Logan says through gritted teeth. “Sebastian is the sensible one keeping us from knocking your teeth out, and he’s not here tonight. Step outside.”
“Stop it,” Pippa says. “All of you. Terence, leave.”