Oh aye, his mission in life was to make Shannon MacLeod laugh every day for as long as she’d let him.
15
Logan’s POV - Grace’s Date
MOONLIGHT ON NIGHTINGALE WAY
Logan wished like fuck he knew how to cope with a teenage girl that happened to be his daughter. Growing up with two sisters, he had learned to give them space when they got broody and crabbit. When they slammed into their rooms and told everyone to bugger off he let them. The only times he didn’t was when someone had hurt Shannon. He never let her shut him out then.
But he didn’t know how to deal with Maia right then. And he wished he did because dealing with his newly discovered teenage daughter would take his mind off Grace and the anonymous fuckwad who could at that very minute be touching her.
Logan’s hands curled into fists as a burn scored through his gut at the same time a sharp ache flared across his chest.
Jealous.
He was jealous.
He couldn’t bloody remember the last time he’d ever felt jealous over a woman.
Shit.
He stood up and strode out of the living room to stare at Maia’s closed door again. A dark cloud had appeared over his daughter’s head as soon as Grace told them she was going on a date. Maia no longer wanted movie night with him. She just shut herself in her room to brood.
Although Logan was beyond grateful for everything Grace had done for Maia there was a part of him that was peeved her actions could affect his daughter so much. It wasn’t her fault. Grace was entitled to a life outside of them. But Maia had latched onto Grace with a possessiveness that worried him… mostly because she wasn’t the only fucking one.
“Maia?” he called softly.
No answer.
“At least grunt, sweetheart, so I know you’re alive.”
“I’m alive,” she muttered. “Tired.”
He frowned but replied, “Okay, sweetheart. Night.”
“Night, Dad.”
That produced another flare in his chest. This time a good one. He wandered back into the sitting room and picked up his phone. He didn’t know what he was hoping for. A text from Grace to tell him she was bored, that she needed rescued.
That it was him she wanted fucking her senseless and not some arsehole her friend had set her up with.
Jesus, his head was all over the place because it wasn’t as if anything could happen with Grace. Maia was acting weird whenever he showed an interest in a woman and according to Grace it was because she still didn’t feel secure in his affections. Truthfully, if someone had told him he would be a full-time dad a few months ago he would have told them to bolt. No way. But as soon as he clapped eyes on his wee girl, who unfortunately, wasn’t much of a wee girl anymore, he’d felt something shift inside him.
When he realized everything she’d been through, it became his mission in life to make Maia’s life the best life possible. She’d had a shitty start but Logan would make sure she never felt neglected again in her life. He couldn’t make up for those years, and it killed him that he’d lost those years. It killed him he’d missed her first steps, her first words, the possibility of her first word being ‘daddy’.
He’d never get that with her.
But he’d get her sweet sixteenth, her first date (when she was thirty), her graduation, her first day at uni. He’d walk her down the aisle. He’d dance with her at her wedding. And he’d hold her in his arms as she held her first child in hers.
He’d make bloody sure of that.
Maia would know she was loved in all of that. However, that would all take time. Right now it was important she knew she had his entire focus and attention. These feelings he was developing for Grace had really bad timing.
They needed to be shoved aside for Maia’s sake.
Still, as much as he tried to convince himself of that, he found himself pacing the flat, driving himself crazy with what ifs. What if this guy she met she liked? What if they started dating and it grew serious? What if she no longer had time for Maia? For him?
Logan grew more and more agitated, and more and more pissed off by his agitation. The moment he stepped out of his apartment and saw her standing in the hallway, glaring at a dripping thong on the banister he was done for. He just didn’t know it then. Instead he’d taken her in, in classy clothes with her perfect honey hair, and perfect complexion that needed no make-up it was that fucking flawless, and he’d resented her on sight. Once upon a time she was exactly the kind of woman he thought he’d end up with. Classy, stylish, soft-spoken, and smart enough to make him laugh. Really fucking laugh. She’d never be easy, she’d be a challenge, but one that would never bore him.
Then he went to prison and it fucking hurt to realize that a woman like that was forever out of his reach. So he made an art form out of sleeping with easy.
And when Grace had stared at him in distaste he thought someone had told her about his time in prison, and he’d thought how goddamn right he’d been.
Until that day with Shannon and his bitchy neighbor and he realized Grace could give a shit he’d been to prison. Grace was pissed off because he was interrupting his sleep… and to his shock as she’d blushed under his surprised stare, she was pissed off because she was attracted to him.
He quickly realized, too, that she didn’t want to be attracted to him, because she thought he was a manwhore. And to be fair, he was at the time. Before prison he’d had a very healthy sex life and two years without was not easy. He had simply been making up for lost time.
And he still wasn’t done. Making a move on Grace would mean making a move toward something permanent and he just wasn’t sure he was ready for that then.
Instead he found himself a classy, stylish American who was all that and easy.
When Maia made it clear she was threatened by other women in his life, he’d ended things with Sharon.
There was the regrettable slip up which he was pretty fucking sure led to Grace going on this bloody date. If only she knew she was the reason for his slip up. Opening the door to Maia and him, still sleep-rumpled in a fucking barely there silk top and tiny shorts. He’d always thought Grace was beautiful in a fresh-faced English rose kind of way, but that morning she hadn’t been expecting them to appear so early. So he got to see her long, fucking, toned legs and sweet nipples hard against her silk top.
It was only for a second because she’d dashed off into her bedroom to put on a robe.
But the image was burned in his brain and she was oblivious to what she’d done to him.
Grace was not just sweet and kind and beautiful.
She was seriously sexy in this innocent way that worked for him.
Worked. For. Him.
All morning he’d been at the club, distracted by her, fantasizing about her, getting bloody hard at work like a school boy. And then Sharon called him. He’d gone to her.
It wasn’t something he was proud of.
And it pissed off Maia, and as much as she’d tried to hide it and he’d tried to explain and then gloss over, it hurt Grace.
Now she was on a date.
Logan didn’t know whether to wring her neck for being so clueless or thank her for putting much-needed distance between them.
The latter went completely out of his head when he heard the clattering sound of high heels on the stairwell. Instead he found himself in the hall with his eye to his peephole like a well… like an arsehole Peeping Tom.
As soon as he caught sight of her honey hair as she came up the stairs, he threw his door open and glared at her as she stepped onto the landing. She’d taken extra care with her hair and make-up. Her make-up was so glamorous she didn’t even look like herself.
He glared harder.
She looked resigned. “All right, then,” she said as she walked calmly on sexy high heels. He couldn’t see what she was wearing under her coat but if her hair and those shoes were anything to go by...
“You’re early,” he blurted out as she opened her do
or. He didn’t think she’d sleep with the guy but that didn’t mean he didn’t need to know.
“I am.”
Frustration burned in him at her one word answer and before he could stop himself he was across the landing and right at her back, her light perfume tickling his senses. “Why?”
Grace jerked in surprise to find him so near, glancing over her shoulder. She had beautiful shining dark brown eyes that a man could easily get lost in. Right now they were narrowed in anger and fuck if that didn’t turn him on.
Jesus Christ.
“Just because. Dad.”
In no mood for her sarcasm, he pushed into the flat behind her, ignoring her huff of annoyance. Why was she evading? What happened on this date? He’d had to rescue her before so he already knew she had a track record of going out with pricks. “Did he do something to you?”
“Where is Maia?”
“She’s sleeping. I’ve locked her in.”
“Oh good,” she strode toward the kitchen. “If there’s a fire, at least her chances of escape are narrower.”
Not only was she evading she was insinuating he was an incompetent parent. Christ, she was asking for a fight. “She can unlock it from the inside.”
Grace went immediately to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine.
Shit. Not a good sign.
“Logan, I am not in the mood for whatever this is.”
Impatience non-existent, not wanting her focus on anything but him, he pulled the bottle out of her hands, quickly poured the drink she wanted and slid it haphazardly across the counter to her. “Speak.”
She didn’t. She took a sip, avoiding his eyes, and wandered away from him. “Grace,” his tone warning her not to push his patience any further.
The dirty look she threw him only pissed him off more.
In fact, Logan didn’t think he could get more pissed off at her right then.
Until she snapped, “I don’t know if you realize this, Logan, but I don’t actually have to tell you anything about my life.” It wasn’t the words that threw him over the edge, although every possessive cell in his body screamed at him that he did actually have a fucking say in her life.
But right then he was too busy losing his mind over her outfit because she’d shrugged out of her jacket, revealing what was beneath.
A little black fuck-me dress.
It was molded to every inch of her curves and her tits pushed up against the neckline.
Logan had never seen her like this. Between the make-up and the shoes and that fucking dress, he barely recognized her. Every time he thought he had Grace figured out she did something else to surprise him, and standing in her kitchen looking like a wet dream threw him completely.
And all he could think was that she hadn’t done herself up like this for him. She hadn’t given this sexy, so goddamn sexy it hurt, side of her to him. She did this for some bloody stranger.
“Logan?” she asked in that soft, posh voice that made his dick twitch.
“Is that what you wore?” he asked, the words coming out guttural with his agitation and frustration. “For him.”
She looked down at herself and then back to him and whatever she saw on his face made her blush.
Blood shot downwards.
“Was he worth it?” he gestured to her, wanting to push that dress up around her waist and lose his body in hers. The idea that someone else had touched her fucked with his head in a way he could never have imagined.
“There’s nothing wrong with this dress,” she snapped, no longer flushing with embarrassment but anger.
That fire buried beneath her lady-like façade was addictive. Logan wanted to believe it was just for him. Only he could make her lose her self-control like she did with him. But had she given her fire to someone else? Dressing that way… like she’d wanted to. “Well, he could be in no doubt what you were offering when you turned up in it. So what the hell happened? Or was it the true definition of a quickie?”
He cursed himself as soon as he said it, hating the hurt he inflicted.
“Get out of my kitchen.”
But he couldn’t. He was driven like a mad man. He needed to know. He moved toward her. “Not before you tell me what that bastard did to you.”
“It’s none of your business. For the fifteen hundredth time.”
Bullshit.
“I beg to fucking differ.” He towered over her, his fingers itching to touch her.
She glared that fire up at him. “You’re being ridiculous. I am not your sister!”
The words rang out around her kitchen and he stumbled back under their weight. Under the bloody goddamn realization that she thought his behavior was because he felt brotherly protectiveness of her.
Jesus Christ if he didn’t want her so much he’d walk out over her absolute fucking cluelessness. He could barely speak, his voice hoarse with disbelief, when he retorted, “Believe me, I know you are not my sister.”
Grace skirted past him, seeming to need distance.
Her confusion calmed him. Just a little. Enough to say, “I just want to know if he hurt you.” What he really wanted to know was if she let this guy screw her but she might throw him out if he asked it out right.
“No, he didn’t.” She threw back the last of her wine and leaned heavily against the wall at her back.
He took the opportunity to devour her with his eyes. His body locked with incredible tension as he forced himself to stand still, to not go to her, to not put his hands and mouth on her and see if that fire caught ablaze.
As if sensing his regard, Grace looked up from beneath her lashes, a look she had no idea was unbelievably seductive. “No, he didn’t,” she repeated, “But he was only after one thing.”
Logan bet he was, Grace turning up in that bloody dress. “What did you do?”
“I told him I didn’t do one-night stands because when I went to bed with a man I wanted him to do whatever he wanted to me, and for that I needed to know and trust him.”
Her words might as well have been her hand wrapping around his cock and jerking on it. The idea that sweet, classy Grace came with a sexually adventurous side was more than he could take. And he couldn’t stand the idea of some other guy knowing that about her. “You said what?”
“I was being funny.”
So. Not. Funny. “Aye, well, I’d expect a phone call from him tomorrow. Saying shit like that to him, wearing that fucking dress…” he took a breath, afraid he’d say something he’d regret.
Those dark eyes of hers flashed with anger. “Why are you acting like a complete sod to me tonight?”
That was it.
Patience fucked.
“Are you really that fucking clueless?” he yelled, exasperated.
“Apparently so!” she shouted back, her chest heaving and making the curve of her breasts tremble.
All other thoughts, worries, concerns, people, fled his mind. His entire focus was on Grace and fucking some sense into her. “Well, here’s a damn hint!” Logan stormed her, capturing her elegant wrists in his big hands to pin them against the wall as he pushed his big body into her soft one. His dick swelled with need as her pretty lips parted in surprise, her eyes flared with lust, and her cheeks flushed. So fucking gorgeous. So feminine and soft.
Class.
Pure class.
She deserved to be made love to gently by a gentleman.
He couldn’t give her that right then. Logan wanted to brand her, possess her, make her lose her mind with need. Punish her a little for making him lose control.
He wanted to fuck her hard against her kitchen wall.
“Tell me to get out, Grace.”
Her breath stuttered as her gaze grew hazy… and then he felt her squeeze her legs together and wondered if she was already wet.
Jesus— “Grace, tell me to leave.”
“No,” she whispered, staring at him with so much longing he melted against her in relief. “I want you to stay.”
She was honest
so she deserved his honesty in return. “If I stay I’m going to fuck you.”
And that’s when he knew Grace Farquhar was a prize beyond his wildest imaginings. She licked her lips and spread her legs in invite before whispering against his lips, “I’m counting on it.”
His control, what little he’d been holding onto, snapped.
He’d never lost control with a woman.
When he fucked a woman it was hot, he was generous, and they both got off. But Logan liked to control the whole encounter.
However, as soon as he kissed her, as soon as Grace’s tongue touched his, as that sweet moan slid down his throat, he was lost. Lost in sensation. In the taste and feel of Grace.
The way her pleas for more filled his ears.
The taste of her sweet nipples on his tongue.
The blaze that consumed him when she slid her hand inside his jeans and wrapped her fist around his dick and whispered, “I want you inside me. I need you.”
So fucking passionate, it shocked the shit out of him in the best way.
When he slipped two fingers between her slender, silky thighs and found her drenched and tight, he nearly came inside his jeans.
“I never thought you’d like up for the likes of me.”
She didn’t seem to hear him, so lost in what he was doing to her body. Her breathy gasps filled his ear as she clutched to him and undulated against his fingers.
God, she needed to come now because he seriously needed inside her. “Jesus, you’re killing me.” He whispered kisses along her the satin skin of her elegant jaw and whispered in her ear, “I’m going to fuck you until you see stars.”
Just like that her inner muscles convulsed around his fingers.
Dirty talk turned her on. Good to know. He swallowed her cries of release in a wet, rough, uncontrolled kiss. It was the sexiest kiss of his life.
Still, it wasn’t enough.
As he continued to kiss her breathless, Logan pushed her dress up to her waist and ripped the lacy knickers she was wearing down her legs. As he reached for the zipper on his jeans so did Grace and they fumbled together in urgency to get them and his boxers off.
On Dublin Street: The Bonus Material Page 13