A Reputation Dark & Deadly (A Dark & Deadly Series Book 2)

by Heather C. Myers

  Logan was in his usual leather jacket with a red scarf tied around his neck. On his feet were black boots and he wore black jeans and a white shirt.

  "Aren't you cold?" Peyton asked, hunched over to try and keep as warm as possible as she made her way over to him.

  "Only my heart," he replied with a snarky grin.

  Peyton rolled her eyes but smiled and followed Logan as he led her to the entrance. There was one ticket booth which was now closed that led to a metal gate. A man leaned against the gate, nearly as tall as Logan but not nearly as lean. It was hard for Peyton to make him out in the darkness but just from the lean alone, she could tell he had to be related to Logan in some way.

  By the time they reached the man, he had turned on one of the street lights so the front entrance was lit up and easier to see.

  "Hi," the man said, his blue eyes resting on Peyton. "I'm Brandon, Logan's half-brother. You must be Logan's TA."

  Peyton nodded. She found it interesting that Logan hadn't referred to her as his student but she pointedly ignored the curiosity that started bubbling up inside of her. Instead, she placed her hand in his offered one and shook it.

  "Peyton," she told him. She gave him a big smile and dropped her hand to her side. "Thanks so much for agreeing to do this! I'm so excited. I love all things Alvin Herbert."

  Brandon chuckled. "How can I refuse my brother, especially when he never brings girls over to meet his only family?" he said, shifting his eyes over to Logan.

  Peyton shifted her eyes and found Logan giving his brother a look similar to the one he had given her in the car, minus all of the amusement.

  She furrowed her brow, unsure of what to make of it. She hadn't thought that there was anything amiss between the two but the more she looked at Brandon and the more she stayed in line with Logan, the more she felt this unspoken tension circle the two men, coiling around their bodies and squeezing like snakes.

  From the corner of her eyes, Peyton took the opportunity to take in Brandon now that she was up close and in the light. She didn't particularly like comparing the two together since she barely knew Brandon save for the fact that he worked here and was Logan's half-brother and it was hard to compare Logan to anyone, if she was being honest. However, she found that while Logan was older than Brandon by a few years, she preferred his salt and pepper scruffiness to Brandon's clean cut look. Logan was both taller with broader shoulders and more muscle but Brandon held his own despite being leaner and a couple of inches shorter. Brandon's skin was a shade darker as well, leading Peyton to believe he was mixed with either Italian or Hispanic genes. Brandon also dressed much different than Logan. Currently, he wore a white collared shirt tucked into dark jeans and had loafers on his feet. His chestnut brown hair was combed and in place but it wasn't slicked back like Logan's. While Logan looked at his brother as though this was the last place he wanted to be, Brandon looked at Logan with a competitive gleam in his eye, as though his only mission in life was to best his brother.

  Peyton shifted uncomfortably. Why had Logan agreed to take her here when he clearly did not get along with Brandon and didn't want anything to do with him? Why put himself through it?

  Before Peyton was allowed to give the question much thought, Brandon clapped his hands together, shifting his eyes from Logan so they rested on Peyton.

  "Well, the night's only going to get colder," he pointed out. "Why don't we begin?"

  The tour was just under two hours. Once they left the entrance and slipped past the gates, Peyton completely forgot about Logan's choice to be here in the first place. Instead, she immersed herself in the rich history the small building had to offer.

  The jail itself was smaller than people usually thought. Typically, the general public didn't quite realize that jails were only supposed to be used to house temporary inmates. A lot of the times, they were occupied with drunkards sleeping off their booze-infused hangover or they awaited trial. Larger, more secure prisons housed inmates that were sentenced for a long duration of time. Old Newport Jail only had three jail cells, two community cells for the drunks, prostitutes, and alcohol sellers, and one that held anyone deemed as more dangerous and was awaiting either transport to a bigger facility or sentencing at the next door courthouse.

  Peyton took pictures of herself in Herbert's original cell and Brandon led her through the motions of his grand escape once he was found not guilty of murder. The state was going to extradite him to Iowa for robbing banks and somehow, Herbert escaped from a jail that was supposed to be impenetrable.

  After that, Brandon led them back to the jail cell before excusing himself. The tour was winding down and he needed to make sure everything was off and ready for tomorrow, leaving Peyton alone with Logan in the cell.

  "You are so fucking weird," he said when they were finally alone. His eyes were gleaming with amusement, however, and his tone was playful rather than malicious.

  Peyton was smiling when she finally looked at him. Not even his smartass comments could dim her happiness.

  "And you're a grump," she said. "You have no idea how cool this is. You have no idea how happy I am right now."

  "Trust me, I know." He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. The crinkle of his leather filled the silence. He leaned towards her and flicked her nose. "You haven't stopped smiling like an idiot."

  Peyton let the gruff comment roll off her shoulders with ease. She beamed at him and his eyes were caught into hers. He looked stricken by something on her face, and it took her a few seconds before she realized that she could read that look. He wasn't trying to hide it. He was stricken by her. Not her nose or her eyes or anything else but by her. She felt her smile slipping but not because she was unhappy. If anything, she was more serious about this new feeling, the thrum of the moment cackling with sparks.

  "I think you like my smile," she murmured. Her heartbeat echoed in her ear and she wondered if he could hear.

  His eyes were staring at her with an indescribable glimmer. It was intense and serious and deep and there was a hint of emotion behind it, a hint of something more than what he projected himself as publicly and more about the sort of person he really was.

  "You think so?" he asked but his voice wasn't as biting or arrogant as it was. It was low and rough with a subtle hint of gentleness she had only heard when he had occupied her dorm room a couple of weeks ago. He leaned his head downward and she nodded in response because whatever she was going to say completely vanished.

  Peyton didn't close her eyes until she felt their lips touching in the dim cell. It was a small space already and considering the bed and the toilet took up the majority of the room, there wasn't much space for them to stand so they stayed where they were.

  The kiss was gentle at first, his lips soft and inviting. His hands went into her hair, running helps fingers through her long, tangled tresses. To be honest, Peyton was surprised because of how soft he was being. The last time they kissed, it was rough, passionate, and dominating. Now, it was slow and poignant and she could feel every little flutter of her heartbeat.

  He reached his hand to her face, cupping her cheek in his hand. His long fingers extended so the tips of his fingers touched her hair just above her ear and his thumb extended so he could tilt her chin back and explore her mouth more thoroughly. She couldn't help but let out a groan as the kiss got deeper and he growled and responded with his grip on her face tightening and placing his left hand on the curve of her waist possessively. When he pulled her to him, she nearly lost her balance but he kept her steady. She felt his desire for her press into the inside of her thigh and she shuddered with both fear and anticipation.

  It was a new catalog of feelings she had never experienced before - ones where she was both hesitant and yearning. It didn't make much sense to her but she didn't mind the confliction. Not now. Not when he was touching her like this and kissing her like this.

  Her hands reached up and found his hair, running her fingers through the black locks, so soft de
spite the gel he must use to keep it slicked back all the time. His lips were warm and inviting, and once his tongue slithered into her mouth, it seemed as though he were attempting to carve out a place for himself there.

  They kept kissing, even as Logan turned Peyton around so he could slam her back into the cell wall. The solid bricks were rough but she barely felt it. When they had to break for air, Peyton needed to stay connected to his skin in some way, so she continued to maintain her stance on her toes, and her mouth found his neck. He hissed in pleasure and while she began to kiss his skin thoroughly and possessively, she made it a point to refrain from leaving any telling marks on the bare flesh, especially marks people could see. It wouldn't take much to put two and two together to realize they probably came from her. She was his only TA after all, and Logan had a reputation to uphold.

  The sounds he was making furthered her along. It was gruff and masculine, heavy breathing mixed with a low moan. His eyes were rolled back and his head was cocked to the side so she had better access to his throat. Only then did she realize how completely vulnerable he was. In this moment, she was in charge. No him. She had all the power. She had all the control.

  It only lasted for a minute.

  His fingers dropped from her face to coil around her neck, and even though he squeezed gently, she could feel the restraint in his hand, as though he wanted to show her who was really in charge without hurting her. It sent a thrill to her pelvis and she jolted at the surprising feeling. She let out a groan and he stiffened, surprised she reacted in such a way to his touch.

  Logan reached for the back of Peyton's thighs and picked her up, making sure her back was still supported by the cold bricks behind her. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist and she inhaled before meeting her lips with his. His grip on her tightened and he pressed against her core with his, causing her to gasp through their kiss. The rough brick against her back caused her slight discomfort, but in a way, she preferred the feeling because it rooted her to this moment and kept her from drifting away.

  Logan broke the kiss and started trailing his lips downwards. The scratchy feeling of his stubble on her sensitive skin caused her to twist and turn against him, a feeling he seemed to encourage by the desperate turn his kisses took. He nipped and sucked at her skin, trailing down the long slope of her neck over her collarbone and to the hint of cleavage that poked out from her low-cut shirt. She gasped at the sensation and squeezed her legs tighter around Logan's waist. Logan growled and continued his pleasurable onslaught, sucking and licking flesh no one had ever touched before.

  "Fucking delicious," he muttered to no one in particular.

  She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the brick. He was making her feel things she had never felt before, things she wanted to feel more. She didn't want him to stop.

  "Logan," she breathed out. "Please."

  He froze. It seemed as though just hearing his name on her lips paired with please caused him to lose sense of who he was.

  Before he could do anything, however, an awkward clearing of the throat could be heard outside of the cell and Peyton's eyes snapped open.

  Shit.

  Peyton avoided both Logan and Brandon's gazes as Logan released her back to the floor. She fixed her shirt and put her sweater back on, hoping the dim lighting in the cell would keep them from seeing the blush on her face. She had a lot to think about on the way home.

  Chapter 9

  "I can go," Brandon said, his eyes on Peyton even though his words were for Logan. "Clearly you guys were in the middle of something. I can" -

  "Finish the fucking tour," Logan growled. Peyton could hear the restraint in his voice and she appreciated it. It wasn't Brandon's fault he had run into them indisposed. Maybe he shouldn't have been a smartass about the whole thing but she also knew there were worse things for him to say, like this was typical Logan behavior or that it didn't surprise him that Peyton was this type of girl.

  Because she wasn't. Peyton was not the type of girl to get felt up in an old jail cell. In retrospect, it was unique and pretty cool but in hindsight, perhaps it wasn't the smartest thing she had ever done. The problem was, kissing Logan made her lose track of the world around them. She couldn't focus on anyone or anything else. His lips were warm and probing, his tongue curious and passionate. He wanted to learn all he could about the sounds she made, the way she tasted. And she felt the same way about him.

  Did it mean anything?

  Granted, Peyton knew that kissing was one of his rules, something he had adhered to with everyone else that came before her. Peyton didn't know if this made her special or just stupidly bold. Perhaps the only reason why he hadn't kissed anyone else was because no one had done it first. And while that reasoning was completely juvenile, it made sense for Logan's personality. Despite how arrogant he was, the more she got to know him, the more she realized just how reserved he was. He was intelligent - he knew so much about his niche in miscarriages of justice and just Criminology in general and while she had beaten him in chess, she knew he was a capable opponent. His apartment was relatively bare save for a few dark pieces of furniture. There had been no pictures and it was kept relatively neat and organized. She wondered what he did in his spare time. What did he like to watch on television? What music did he like to listen to? What was his favorite color? It was superficial questions like these that turned Logan Jeffrey from being a monster to a man.

  Peyton tried to focus on the rest of the tour but she couldn't. Not only was the kiss running through her mind and making her lips tingle, but she couldn't help but feel awkward around Brandon. She was sure he felt the same way, despite the ease he picked back up the tour with.

  Her face turned red just thinking about it. To say she was mortified would be an understatement.

  But she didn't regret the kiss.

  How could she?

  It was perfect, infused with more passion than she had ever expected. She got to make Logan groan and breathe heavy and she felt how badly he wanted her. Her. Even knowing she was a virgin due to her lapse in judgment while she was sick, he knew and still found her desirable. Maybe he saw her as a potential conquest, maybe not, but she found she liked being desired but only by him.

  They wound up the tour less than fifteen minutes later, coming to a stop just outside the restrooms located at the front gate. Logan all but excused himself, leaving Peyton alone with Brandon. She couldn't explain it but things got tense between the two of them alone and Peyton wished Logan would hurry up so they could leave and possibly figure out what happened and what it meant for them - if anything. She didn't plan to lose her head - or her heart - over one amazing kiss but she needed to sort this out soon because her brain was already starting to work overtime and overanalyzing anything typically got her into trouble.

  "How'd you like the tour?" Brandon asked, a small, seemingly friendly smile on his face.

  Peyton glanced up at him, suspicious. After a moment, she allowed herself to smile politely in response. "It was wonderful, thank you," she told him, hoping he knew how sincere she was. "I've been here a couple of times on the self-guided tours but never after hours. It was literally a dream come true!"

  Brandon smiled at that. He didn't have the same dimples Logan did - probably a trait he got from his mother then - but it was still a gentle smile that made him look younger.

  "You know," he said, taking a step towards Peyton so he was directly in front of her, casually crossing his arms over his chest. "Logan has a reputation with his TA's. I think he gets it from our father. I've never had him bring one of you here before, especially not after hours. I would think he wouldn't want to get the wrong impression."

  "He lost a bet," Peyton said with a shrug. "That's all." Her eyes were still focused on Brandon and she watched him take another step towards her. She tensed, not quite sure what to expect.

  "I'm sure it's more than that," Brandon said. "The thing is, when we were younger, Logan and I had a thing for the same g
irls. I'm younger than him, obviously, but his tastes have gotten younger and younger. You know how he is. He's probably twice your age. But I'm not." He took another step forward. "Did you hear how we used to share them?"

  "Share who?" Peyton raised a brow, still not backing down.

  "Them," Brandon said, as though it was obvious. Then his lips curled into a smirk and he laughed. "You're cute, you know that? We used to share the girls. Logan isn't the type to settle down and he and I would pick girls who were eager and willing to want both of us. Not at the same time, mind you, but when we were finished, we would switch." He took another step forward until he was directly in front of Peyton, staring down at her with a cocky smile on his face.

  "Logan doesn't seem to be the type of guy who shares his things," Peyton said in a low voice. "He also doesn't seem to be the type to be fine with sloppy seconds."

  Brandon narrowed his eyes in Peyton's direction but he kept his gaze light, the smile still on his face. "You have a mouth on you," he said, cocking his head to the side. "Does he like that?"

  Peyton furrowed her brow. "Why are you so concerned with what he likes?" she asked.

  Brandon dodged the question. "Listen," he said, "there's an understanding between us regarding women. If they meet me, we share them. That's the way it's always been. The girls were always on the same page. Surely you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to come with him. Why else would he bring you to me?" He cocked his head to the side. "Do you think - do you actually think you're special? That he cares about you in some way? Well, he doesn't. He brought you to me because he had his fun with you - clearly - and now it's my turn. We can go back to Herbert's cell if you'd like, if that's your kink. I don't judge."