by Karr, Kim
We looked at each other.
Her lips parted. My breathing was heavy.
Was I really considering kissing her?
The knock on the door had me pulling my hands away. It saved me from making a dumb-ass move.
Elle, however, jumped.
“Hey . . . it’s okay, it’s just room service. I told you, you’re safe here,” I reassured her. I wasn’t being entirely honest. Yes, she was safe here, but she wasn’t safe with me. And somehow I had to tell her that.
The guy in white stood there with a tray. I didn’t let him past me. I searched the hallway, saw no one else, signed the slip, and then I wheeled the cart in myself. “Thanks,” I told him.
“Have a good night,” he replied.
With the door closed and locked up tight again, the first thing I did was grab a towel and pour some ice in it. Tying it up, I handed it to her. “Here, put this on your back.”
She took it and slid it behind her to rest on the pillow and then leaned on it. “Thank you.”
“Did you eat?” I asked, keeping my distance.
Close was bad. I couldn’t seem to control my libido.
“No, but I’m not hungry,” she answered.
Ignoring her comment, I took the plate of food and set it on her lap. “You should eat.”
She lifted the lid. “I’ll share it with you.”
My whole body tightened. Share. I could do that. Put the food between us. Keep my thoughts on what mattered. Back to mechanical steps, I put the milk in the refrigerator and brought two bottles of water over. I set them on the coffee table and sat down. Trying unsuccessfully to not really look at Elle, I grabbed the ketchup bottle and poured some out on the plate, then grabbed a fry. “Your turn.”
She pinched a fry and dipped it in the ketchup. She seemed calmer, more relaxed, and I was glad. “Can I ask you something?” she said after a few bites of the burger.
I leaned back on the couch and saw her eyes travel the length of me. My blood started pumping again. “Yeah, sure.” I shifted in my seat.
After chewing, she asked, “Are you related to Killian McPherson?”
I should have hesitated. I should have hated dirtying her with the knowledge. But I didn’t. It was a gateway into what I had to tell her anyway. And hopefully, once she knew, it would make her want to avoid any sexual involvement with me. She needed to stay close to me, though, until I knew she would be safe. I dropped my head but raised my eyes. “Yeah, he’s my grandfather.”
Stunned, she set the plate down. “Logan, are you in the Mafia?”
That was direct.
My head snapped up. “Fuck no.”
She didn’t look convinced.
Somehow, I found myself leaning toward her. It was like I was a magnet, drawn to her, no matter how much distance I put between us. “First of the all, the Mafia is Italian. The Mob is Irish. Not that it matters. But anyway, my grandfather and my father worked really hard to make sure I kept my distance. I’m not a part of that organization. And my father is just what I told you, Patrick’s legal counsel. Nothing more.”
She pulled the towel filled with ice from behind her back. The cubes started falling out. “Then why were you with him last night?”
I took the towel from her and scooped the cubes up. “Here, let me fix it.”
She shook her head. “It’s fine.” She was staring at me, waiting for me to explain.
There was no denying the way we’d crossed paths. “Things have changed recently for my old man, and I’ve been going with him on ‘calls’ whenever I can.” I tried to tell her as much as I could without telling her more than she needed to know.
She rubbed her fingers around her eyes. “Look, Logan, I already know my sister must have been involved with something really bad or Michael wouldn’t be jumping through hoops to try to fix it. And by doing so, I can only guess that now Michael is involved in something equally as dangerous. The question is, should I be worried for myself and Clementine?”
The towel was dripping on my pants, so I set it in on the table, and then I stupidly moved closer. “I’m not going to lie to you or try to make you feel better. I’m going to be honest. Yes, you should.”
“Now you’re really scaring me.”
“I don’t want to, but you need to understand how dangerous this situation is. What do you know about the drug ring?”
She pulled her legs up. “Nothing. I don’t know anything.”
My eyes met hers. Was she lying? I had no idea, but I chose to believe her and tell her what I could. “Patrick Flannigan, the guy who runs the organization my father works for, is the one that told my pop to pay O’Shea a visit. It was a warning, not a social call. Patrick is a dangerous man and his son, even more so. O’Shea might not realize it, but he is in over his head. You have to believe me about this, Elle.”
She sat still, as if absorbing my every word.
“What’s he doing? What’s his plan?”
My question jarred her. She twitched a bit and then reached for a bottle of water. “I don’t know.”
I narrowed my eyes at her.
“I don’t. He doesn’t tell me anything.”
That only made the guy a bigger ass in my eyes. I took a deep breath. “Any chance you can take Clementine and get out of town for a week or so?”
She took a swallow of water and seemed to move subconsciously closer to me.
My body reacted to her close proximity. My eyes were focused on her. I couldn’t help but watch the path that the liquid took as it moved down her throat. Every minute I spent with her, I found myself wanting her more and more.
I couldn’t stop it.
I wanted to ease her pain.
But it was my cock that was really feeling the pain of it. It was rock hard. And tough shit, there was no relief coming anytime soon.
It took her a second, but she looked at me and I cleared my lustful thoughts. “No, I can’t. I just opened the boutique. I couldn’t possibly leave. I only have Peyton and Rachel to help me with it, and besides, I have nowhere to go even if Michael lets me take her.”
“Okay, I get it. But you have to think of yourself. I want to help you, but I can’t if I don’t know what he has planned. You need to sit down with O’Shea and make him tell you what’s in his head.” I had to be straight. There was no dancing around it. He didn’t have time to fuck around.
She nodded. “I’ll try.”
“You have to tell me what he tells you.”
She looked hesitant.
“That’s the only way I can help you.”
“Logan, I just don’t know. I’m risking a lot by being here, but something inside me tells me I’m safer here than anywhere else. What I don’t get, though, is . . . why do you want to help me? Aren’t we supposed to be on opposite sides?”
I shook my head. “No, we’re not on opposite sides. We’re on the same side. I promise.”
“How do I know I can trust you?”
I brushed some hair from her face. I knew I shouldn’t be touching her but I had to. “Because all I want is to keep you and that precious little girl sleeping in the other room safe.”
She leaned into my touch and I felt it everywhere in my body. “I don’t understand. Why? Why would you help us?”
There was no way I couldn’t be honest. Not when she was this close to me. Not when her voice was pleading with me to tell her. “Because, Elle, you remind me of someone I should have helped but didn’t. Someone I failed.”
Our eyes locked. I swear her lips parted. I know I felt my own mouth open and I couldn’t stop my tongue from sneaking out and licking my bottom lip. In my mind, I was imagining how much better she’d feel about all of this if I could drive my cock deep inside her. What a fucked-up thought. I shook it away.
Finally, I cleared my throat. “I want you to stay here tonight. And then tomorrow, when O’Shea gets back, you’ll talk to him. I can’t help you if I don’t know what he’s planning to do. But Elle, you can’t tell him you�
��re talking to me. Not yet.”
She nodded in silent agreement as if she didn’t want him to know either.
Interesting.
“You take the bedroom. I’ll sleep out here.”
She nodded again. “Do you mind if I take a shower? It’s been a long day.”
“No, go ahead.”
Oh fuck, the things I was already picturing.
Elle stood up and I watched her as she grabbed her bags and went back into the bedroom. She paused at the door. “Thanks, Logan. For everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I said.
If she knew what I was thinking, she wouldn’t.
She disappeared into the darkness and I refocused. My dirty mind aside, I couldn’t help but think to myself, Please trust me.
Trust in what I told you.
Trust me when I tell you how dangerous this is.
Because if you don’t—we’ll both be dead.
ELLE
Nausea twisted my gut.
If what Logan had told me was true, and Michael was in over his head, he wasn’t wrong—we were in trouble.
And something told me there were no lies in Logan’s words.
Michael had told me just enough, hinting at the danger but making it sound like everything would be okay. Was he being overly optimistic or was Logan being paranoid?
I just had no idea.
Stepping inside the large space, I left the door open a crack from the bathroom to the bedroom in case Clementine woke up. I dimmed the bathroom lights and looked around. Marble covered almost every surface and the heat lamps in the ceiling were supposed to warm me, but the chill I was feeling wasn’t one that could be cured by supplied heat.
My clothes felt like they weighed a hundred pounds as I stripped out of them and let them fall to the floor. When I turned on the shower faucet, the water sprayed from jets in every direction. I stood outside the shower and decided to allow my skin the luxury of being warmed by the steam as the water got hotter.
When I felt ready, I stepped inside. A bar of soap sat in a small alcove built into the shower along with bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. The soap and shampoo had been used, but not the other two. I cracked open the body wash and the scent of lavender filled the large space.
The liquid seemed to caress my body as I smoothed it on, almost as if it might help wash away the danger that lay ahead. The water beat down on me from all directions and I enfolded myself in it. In this sanctuary, I could let myself be afraid. I could cry because I was scared. I didn’t have to be strong.
The emotions I was holding in gave away, as did my wall of strength. Like a rag doll, I limply slid down the wall of the shower. After a few moments, I cradled my head in my hands and let the tears flow. I cried for as long as I could and when I knew I had no tears left, I resolved to cry no more. It was time to be strong, if not for me, then for that innocent little girl sleeping soundly in the next room.
Fortitude was a virtue I knew well and, as I forced myself to rise to my feet, I reminded myself of that. Finding the shampoo, I scrubbed and rinsed my head. When I looked at my fingers, they were wrinkled, and I wondered just how long I’d been in the shower. Running my hands through my silky smooth strands, I scrubbed some more and then rinsed again, finally adding the conditioner and rinsing one last time.
My mind felt freer by the time I turned the shower off. Logan assured me we’d be safe, and for a reason I didn’t want to examine too closely, I believed him. Logan—what was it about him? What were these feelings that were whooshing through my belly just thinking about him? Was I genuinely attracted to him, or was my reaction simply a by-product of the fear I was feeling? The answer could easily have been yes to both questions.
Steam filled the air in the room. Something came over me in the haze—lustful visions that I couldn’t control. When I stepped out of the shower, I tried to block the image I had in my head of Logan’s parted lips—soft, sensual. As soon as the cooler air hit me, my nipples peaked. I ignored the desire that was blooming within me and reached for the fluffy white towels that were just beside the counter.
First, I wrapped my head in one and then my body. The terry cloth absorbed the water instantly but I still rubbed one corner over my skin to dry it thoroughly. The arousal I had been feeling blossomed beneath the surface of each place I rubbed and I made sure to leave no place untouched.
The air was still hazy and the mirror was coated in steam. That was fine; I didn’t need to see myself. I knew the state of affairs. My skin was pink from the heat, my body was clean, and my mind was on the man who would be sleeping in the next room tonight.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I bent forward and gripped the counter. I had to think clearly. I couldn’t allow anything or anyone to cloud my judgment.
“Are you okay?” His voice was low, rumbly, and my insides came even more alive at the sound.
Surprised, I stood straight and turned around. My heart leapt into my throat when I saw him occupying the doorway. In the midst of all this chaos, he was a welcome breath of fresh air.
“Yes, I’m fine. Sorry if I’m taking too long. I’ll hurry.”
He leaned against the doorframe and his long, lean body was all I could see. “No, that’s not why I’m here. I knocked lightly but you didn’t hear me.”
I drank him in from head to toe, not sure how to stop what was coming over me. “It’s okay. What did you need?”
“I didn’t want to disturb you, but I saw you were out of the shower and thought you might freak out if you didn’t see Clementine in the bed.”
I stepped forward, freaking out more than a bit.
Logan spoke, though, before I could express my concern. “Nothing to worry about. I wanted to let you know,” he jerked his head toward the bedroom, “I had housekeeping set up a crib and I moved Clementine into it. I hope you don’t mind.”
My vision became blurry from all the steam, or maybe it was the gratitude I felt from his constant vigilance over Clementine and me. “Thank you.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again.
As my body reacted to his presence, warmth overtook me, and my desire heightened with each passing second that his eyes were on me. I didn’t try to hide it. I didn’t want to. “I was just thinking about you, actually.”
He grinned at me, and something that seemed like shyness glimmered in his expression. “About me, in what way?”
Pure male was all I heard in his words.
I didn’t answer.
I didn’t have to.
After studying him, I surmised it was hesitation I saw, not shyness. While his face appeared to remain reserved, his body told a different story.
I traced the lines of it. He wore a long-sleeved black T-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders and flat stomach. His black cargo pants hugged his lean waist, and the bulge in those pants let me know how much he wanted me. His thighs may have been lost beneath the fabric, but I had to bet they were equally as exquisite.
When my gaze returned to his, he slid his focus painfully slowly down my body.
It was as if I could feel the heat of those hazel eyes with each inch they traveled downward, and I wanted to feel more of it. The longer they lingered, the more my body reacted. When his eyes returned to mine, I felt this strange pull that I couldn’t explain if I had to, but all I knew was that I had to have him.
Recognizing I might never get the chance again, I acted without another thought.
I wasn’t going to hold back.
I was prepared to go all the way.
Focused on just that, I took the towel from my hair and shook my head so that wet strands of ginger locks covered my shoulders. Then I tugged on the fabric that wrapped my torso and let it fall to the ground.
Logan drew in a ragged breath and slowly stepped over the threshold and into the bathroom.
I waited, breathing hard, heart pounding, as he carefully closed the door and turned the fan on. A whirring sound encompassed
the space at the same time it drew the humidity from the room.
His long strides had him in front of me in a matter of seconds.
In a state of delirium, my hands grabbed for his waistband and I wildly pulled the snap open. I couldn’t stop myself even if I tried. I wanted to see him naked. I wanted to see every square inch of his body and then I wanted to feel it against mine.
“Elle, this isn’t a good—”
I put my finger on his lush lips. “Shhh . . . no talking. Not now. We’ve done enough talking.”
Uncertain perhaps, he met my eyes questioningly.
Even though I was completely naked, I was unabashed.
Certain.
I wanted him.
He wanted me.
I’d never felt this kind of want before and I needed to see it through.
I prayed he wouldn’t say another word. I didn’t want anything to jar me from the euphoric state I had somehow entered.
This close to him, I could see the exact shape of the scar beneath his eye. I could also see the brown flecks in his green eyes, so many they transformed the color to hazel. They glistened in the dim light and mesmerized me.
In this moment, we weren’t on opposite sides, we weren’t strangers, and we weren’t denying the oddly intense attraction that had been there from the start. We were just two consenting adults who wanted to fuck.
Logan seemed to feel the same. He dropped his gaze and didn’t speak a word as he molded himself to me. His touches were like sparks of electricity that tingled all of my nerve endings. I felt them everywhere.
One hand went to my back and the other curled behind my neck as he pulled me to him. Still contending with the magical feel of his hands, the contact made by his mouth was unexpected. It was on mine so fast that I started to sway in a dizzying combination of lust and want. The soft, tender feel of his lips was delicious. Our mouths moved in tandem and our tongues met as we devoured each other with the hunger we both felt.
I tried to ignore the fact that I’d never felt this way.
I needed to get out of my own head.
And I did. I let thoughts of him sweep me away. Strange thoughts. Like how I wanted to taste him from his lips to his feet, how I wanted to drag my tongue down his body and lick every bit of him.