Anything But Mine

by Taryn Elliott

  But he needed one more touch.

  Then he’d shut the door and drive her home.

  He slid his fingers under the hem of her dress up her satiny thighs. The dome light threw most of her face in shadow save for her shiny lips, which opened with an audible sigh. When he got to the top, he traced the back of his hands along her belly then made a return trip down the muscled flesh. He raked his nails down the outsides of her legs, then drew her knees together and spun her to face forward in the seat.

  Borrowing every breathing exercise he’d learned, he made it to the back of the truck where he curled his fingers over the flatbed door. Randy as a teen and twice as hard was his constant state of being around this woman.

  But he had to bide his time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually wanted more than a single night with a woman, so he had to be sure not to scare her off. Izzy held a lot of firsts for him.

  He walked around to the driver side and got into the truck. The trip was silent, as if neither one of them were sure what to say to the other.

  “Where’s your place?”

  “The bookstore.”

  “You live there, too?”

  “There’s an apartment on the third floor.”

  He glanced at her. “And that’s enough for you?”

  Her teeth gleamed in the low light. “More than enough.”

  The tall windows of her brownstone came into view, and he pulled over to park. “It really is a great place.”

  “Thanks. We like it.” She opened her door and turned to him. “Thanks for…well, everything tonight.” She leaned across the bench seat and kissed his cheek.

  He curled his arm around her waist and drew her across the seat into him. There was no way he was ending this night on a chaste kiss. Not when he wanted to make sure there would be a tomorrow. He wanted this night to be as memorable as possible, so she wouldn’t find a way to wiggle out of seeing him again.

  Frustration, lust, and hope were his driving emotions. He poured all of them into the kiss. And when she returned it beat for beat, he demanded more. He kissed her until there wasn’t any oxygen left in the cab of the truck.

  When her fingers crept up his neck to the longer strands of his hair, her grip turned feral. He broke the kiss and panted in her mouth. “Let me come upstairs.”

  She made that little groan-moan thing he was becoming addicted to.

  Playing fair wasn’t in his vocabulary. Not about this. Not about her. He dropped his mouth to her shoulder and scraped his teeth over the warm skin, then moved over to her breast. Unencumbered, he found her nipple easily. It burned against his tongue before he closed his teeth over the tip.

  He flipped the steering wheel up and hauled her onto his lap. Digging fingers into her hips, he groaned when her warmth surrounded his denim covered hard-on.

  “I can’t.”

  “Then let me have this. Then I’ll go.” He lowered his hand to the base of her spine and surged beneath her. She was so goddamn wet and right there. He could just open his fly and be inside that tight, fisting warmth again.

  He growled out her name and focused his efforts on her breasts before him. He sucked them through the material, using the friction of the cotton to make her cry out with each bite of his teeth and swipe of his tongue. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and rode him.

  Sweat dripped between them, and the scent of her excitement dragged him into a place where there was nothing more important than feeling this woman come apart around him. Her hips undulated against his cock. She went from a fluid, rolling cry to a frozen gasp.

  Logan gripped the back of her neck and swallowed her shuddering sigh. She tried to reel away from him like earlier that night, but he held on, banding his other arm around her back. She collapsed against him, her whole body trembling.

  “Fuck.” He breathed against her neck and held her tight. “Fuck,” he said again and dragged her mouth back to his. This woman destroyed him.

  Finally, her shudders drifted into even breaths with an occasional hiccup. She pressed her forehead to his. “Is there real estate available in Orgasmlandia? I’m moving there. It will be my permanent zip code. Screw it, no forwarding address. Just you and me and all of the naked time we can handle.”

  He groaned.

  She traced his lower lip with her finger. “I’ll even let you play an occasional show. We have to make sure those fingers stay flexible.”

  He laughed and bit the tip of her finger. Amazed that he could find humor in anything when his balls were this fucking blue. “I like this town. Let’s go upstairs and design our house.”

  She rolled her hips and they both groaned. “I would like nothing more than to do that, but if I took you upstairs, the entire town would know by morning.” She leaned back against the steering wheel. “Not exactly the most inconspicuous truck.”

  He cupped her face. “I’ll just stay an hour.”

  The corner of her mouth lifted. “You know it won’t be just an hour.”

  No. If he got his hands on her, and was finally able to get her completely naked, an hour wouldn’t be enough. He kissed her, letting a groan free in her mouth, then he lifted her off his lap.

  She grabbed her underwear, scooted across the seat and out of the truck. A moment later she was at his window, and he rolled it down. She stood on the foot rail and leaned in for a quick kiss. “It’s going to be crazy tomorrow, but I’ll find you.”

  “You better.”

  She backed away and up on the sidewalk, stuffing the garments into her pocket. “Get some rest. I need you to kick ass tomorrow.”

  He grinned at her. “I will.”

  She waved and went to her door. She hit something on a keypad and the door opened. Turning back with one more smile, she disappeared inside.

  Logan shifted in his seat and wished for a bit of cool air to ease the ache in his dick. The farther he got from her apartment and up to the winding road that lead to his house, the easier it was to think.

  Too easy. Doubts and worries about the show replaced the haze of lust he’d been living in for the last hour. He wanted it to go off without hitch, but his history with concerts made it unlikely.

  Maybe this time he could get through it without a pair of ice blue eyes staring back at him.

  He pulled onto his property and groaned at the wide open gate. With so many people in and out of the cabin, he’d given up on any sense of security. When the festival was over, he’d get his life back. And maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to settle in for a little downtime.

  Was it too much to hope that it would include Izzy?

  He parked and got out. Music poured from his house, and every damn light seemed to be on. He didn’t even bother with the panel at his front door. Sure enough, the door was unlocked.

  Voices carried out of the living room. Johnny and Lindsey were on the sectional, a guitar on each of their laps. Emerson had the bongos out and Zeke was sitting cross-legged singing. It was a rather bastardized version of Stairway to Heaven with Cody howling along with Zeke’s drunk lyrics.

  A bottle of Crown and two empty bottles of Bordeaux sat on the end table. Half full tumblers and wine glasses were on every available surface.

  “Nice to see you guys raided the liquor cabinet.”

  “Hey!” Zeke got up, listing a little before he righted himself. “We were wondering where you were.”

  “No we weren’t, dude.” Johnny grinned, a dimple denting his tanned cheek. “He was making time with the hot brunette.”

  “No,” Zeke said with an emphasis on the O. “Izzy?”

  Logan crossed his arms. “Yes.”

  “About time.” Lindsey strummed her guitar, changing the song to Feel Like Makin’ Love with a bright smile.

  Johnny came up with a rumbling rendition of the chorus. Cody howled and Zeke harmonized.

  Logan rolled his eyes and picked up the bottle. “I don’t have Crown in the house.” It wasn’t exactly the high end stuff he usually bought. It wa
s actually more suitable for the animals that were staying there for the weekend. He trained his eyes on Emerson. “You didn’t finish my Dalmore, did you?”

  Emerson pressed his lips together and shook his head. “If I’d known it was in the house, I wouldn’t be drinking this swill.”

  “Nah.” Zeke slapped Logan’s arm. “This beautiful man had a whole spread waiting for us.”

  Logan frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  Zeke turned around and pointed at the three tiers of bottles sitting in the middle of the kitchen island. “That.”

  A plethora of wines and whiskies were stacked in a tree display on wooden shelves. Logan moved closer, then saw the two things that made the little hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

  A bottle of ice wine and Johnny Walker Blue.

  Aimee’s favorites.

  Every ounce of pleasure in the day drained out of him. His shoulders tightened as he slowly lifted the envelope that lay discarded on the counter. Inside, a simple white piece of card stock with two words: love, me.

  Logan picked up the bottle of ice wine, calmly uncorked it, and poured it down the drain before dropping the empty bottle into the recycle bin.

  “What are you doing?”

  Logan didn’t answer. The only thing he could focus on was ridding his house of her. He picked up the bottle of Blue and handed it to Zeke. “Make sure this is gone by morning. I don’t care if you drink it or you pour it down the sink.”

  Zeke frowned. “You didn’t send this over?”

  “No.”

  “So, it was Charlie. You know how excited he was about the press for this shindig. He’s been drooling about this show since you called him Tuesday.”

  “It wasn’t Charlie.”

  Logan swiped the envelope off the counter, took out the card, and handed it to Zeke.

  His face went gray under his perpetual tan. “Jesus. I didn’t—I wouldn’t have…”

  “It’s fine.” Logan raked his fingers through his hair. “Just make sure it’s gone. I don’t want to take it away from the guys.”

  He should have known. Things were going too smoothly, and he’d all but forgotten about Aimee for a few hours. His head had been full of jasmine and laughter and that ridiculously hot moan Izzy made when he touched her.

  It took everything inside of him not to swipe his arm across the display of colorful bottles and destroy them all. She’d gotten in his house. The one place that she’d never managed to touch.

  Was she here in Winchester Falls? Had this just been a delivery?

  “Were you here when it came in?”

  Zeke shrugged. “No, man. It was here when we got back from practice. I didn’t even notice the card.”

  “You saw exactly what she wanted you to see. That’s how she works.”

  “It’s just alcohol—”

  “It’s never just alcohol, never just a gift.” Logan crossed to the liquor cabinet. He reached onto the top shelf and pulled his bottle of Dalmore down along with a tumbler and went out the back.

  The spotlights glowed in the deep end of his pool, leaving everything a shimmering turquoise. He picked an Adirondack chair at the back of the property, dumped his glass on the matching table, uncapped the bottle, and filled it an inch from the top. He set the bottle down with a shaking hand.

  She wasn’t going to get him riled up before another damn show. Not this one. Not here. He wasn’t going to ruin the first good thing he’d had in too many years to count. Between Izzy and this charity show, he was actually happy.

  He clenched his fingers into a fist and waited out the panic. When his hand was steady, he lifted the glass and knocked back half of it. The high end whisky didn’t burn like the cheap kind. It bloomed with heat and the backlash of the smoky barrel it had been aged in.

  He collapsed into the chair and stared up at the stars.

  Not this fucking time.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Hey Boss, I need—”

  “No.”

  Nic stopped in her tracks. “What do you mean no?”

  Bella pushed her sweaty bangs out of her eyes and peered down at her best friend from the ladder. “I mean no. I have no answers. I am brain dead. Whatever it is, you don’t need my input.”

  Nic licked the corner of her deep burgundy lips, then slapped her hands on her hips. “You’ve been out of sorts since we opened this morning. What’s going on?”

  Bella turned back to the top shelf she was dusting.

  “You’re cleaning.”

  “We have a few thousand people taking over our quiet little town. I want the shop as perfect as possible.” She swiped the beeswax-laden towel into the back of the shelf.

  “No. You’re cleaning with,” she leaned into Bella and sniffed, “with beeswax.”

  Bella rushed down the steps and moved to the next set of bookcases. “I do this once a month.”

  “I know. And you did it two weeks ago. So fess up, woman. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. Sharon was here, and we went over the vendors. She’s down there right now directing traffic.”

  “Isn’t that your job?”

  Bella climbed up. “She’s taking the first shift.”

  Nic leaned against the ladder and folded her arms over her black and white polka dot blouse. “And you’re not hovering…”

  “Sharon’s a big girl.” Bella moved a stack of books and a charming elf book end so she could rub in the wax and wipe it off. The antique bookcases required special attention, dammit. Her arms ached and her thighs screamed from her dozens of trips up and down the ladder that day.

  She’d been working since six that morning. That was when she’d given up on sleeping. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Logan’s eyes staring up at her as she sat astride him in the truck. Or she relived the look in his wild spring green eyes as he went down on her, driving her absolutely mad.

  She couldn’t get him out of her head.

  And even more horrifying, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. The last man she’d been with had been sweet and non-threatening. His idea of a wild night had been Chinese takeout in bed after very pleasant sex.

  Pleasant and nice didn’t even belong in a sentence with Logan.

  Nic slid under the ladder and peered up at her. “You had sex.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve got that manic cleaning thing going on.” She snapped her fingers. “You had sex. Or, you didn’t actually get to have the sex, but you’re thinking really hard about it.”

  “Shut up.” Bella gave the top shelf one more hard scrub with the towel and came down to her level. “You’re not even close.”

  Nic tipped her head to the side. “Oh, I’m close.”

  Bella started taking things off the shelf in front of her.

  Nic leaned in and sniffed. “You stink like sex.”

  “I do not.”

  “Like good sex. Like he rocked your world. Oh, yeah.” She gave a shimmy to her hips and pulled Bella away from the bookcase and hugged her, hopping them both in a circle. “That’s what happened.”

  Bella couldn’t stop a laugh. “Why is my having sex making you so happy?”

  “A-ha! I knew it! I wasn’t completely sure, but now I am.”

  Bella covered her face. “Oh, Nic. What am I going to do?”

  “Did it suck? He doesn’t seem the type. Kinda the overachiever if I had to guess.”

  “No, it didn’t suck. It was…It was.” Mind-blowing. Earth-shattering. Soul-destroying. “Yeah, it was good.”

  “Good? Is that all you have to say about sex with Mr. Rock God himself?”

  “Shh. Say it a little louder.”

  Nic turned to the room. “My best friend just had wild monkey sex with a certain—”

  Bella clamped her hand over Nic’s mouth. “Seriously!” Nic stabbed her palm with her tongue and Bella whipped her hand away and scrubbed it down her denim-clad thigh. “Eww.”

  Nic returned her hands to her hips. �
��There’s no one here except Adam.”

  “Well, he doesn’t need the details either.”

  “Oh, honey. We’re so beyond that. We shared an apartment when you were trying to fuck your way through Chelsea.”

  Bella stalked away from her. “See! See, right there. That’s what I’m afraid of. This man is fling material. He’s barely more than a one night stand.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, right. If he was one night stand material you would have done it the first night you guys met and been over it already.”

  Bella didn’t stomp her foot, but she came damn close. “I came here to start over. To not do those stupid things I did in my early twenties. For God’s sake, Logan moves past dumb into epic stupidity.”

  “Why?”

  Bella’s brows snapped down. “What?”

  “Why is it stupid to be with him? He’s not an ax murderer, right?”

  “I hope not.”

  Nick grabbed her by the jaw and squished her lips together. “Repeat after me.”

  “No.”

  Nic nodded, her huge brown eyes imploring. “Repeat: I’m going to have a good time. I’m not going to overthink things.”

  Bella tried to pull free, but Nic and her freakishly strong fingers held her still “I’m not going to over think things,” she mumbled.

  “And?” Nic shook her head a little.

  “I’m going to have a good time.” Bella slapped her hand away. “Having fun isn’t the hard part. It’s the fact that when one person figures out we’re…whatever this is, then the whole town will know.”

  “So?”

  Bella tipped her head to the side. “So? Then there’s no going back.”

  “Ahh, there we go. That’s the problem. You don’t want to even take him out for a test drive. What? You think you’re going to like him too much?”

  Bella whipped off her apron and pushed the ladder back into the corner where it belonged. Yes. That was exactly the problem. The more time she spent with Logan, the more she liked him. His humor, the way he listened, making her feel like everything coming out of her mouth was ultra-important, the sadness in his eyes, the music that was his oxygen.

  The way he kissed her. And oh, God, the way he touched her.