He broke our kiss to drag his lips down my neck while his hand fondled my breast and played with my nipple. I gasped his name, grinding my hips against him. I couldn't wait to feel the full length of him moving inside me.
His voice was ragged and desperate. "God, Alyssa. I want you."
"Please," I begged, pulling his head up to kiss him again. "Please, Logan."
He dropped his hand from my breast and pulled away from me, shaking his head. He looked conflicted and angry.
"I-I can't. We can't. It's not right, Alyssa. You're my sister."
Stepsister. It's what I wanted to say but it was pointless. Logan had already climbed out of the pool, and my hand was covering my mouth so he couldn't hear me crying as he walked away.
6: Logan
Morons made the same mistake twice.
Complete idiots made the same mistake twice and made it worse.
I don't know. I'd been labelled a genius from family, friends and professional folk but right now I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet.
"…require using a more lightweight database engine, but there is concern about backwards compatibility for the older models. Thoughts, Mr. Ashbury?"
The sound of my name forced me back to the present. I blinked stupidly at the roomful of faces turned in my direction. Currently, I was in a meeting with some of my software designers and engineers, but I'd lost track of the topic immediately after I'd sat down in my seat. My physical presence hadn't been necessary. I usually attended these things via a VoIP service but I'd wanted an excuse to get out of the house. I found many excuses to not be around when Alyssa was home ever since what we did a few days ago. Half because I felt guilty and ashamed for doing it and the other half because I knew I'd be tempted to do it again.
I mean, she did seem to be pretty into it that night. This thought dawned on me the very next day and had stayed with me up until now. It was the only consolation that eased my conscience. Better yet, she hadn't been drunk—hadn't seemed so, at least. Her participation had not only been of her own free will but overly enthusiastic, too. No hesitation. No sounds of complaint, whatsoever, save for when she'd actually begged me to continue.
Anyway, I had work to do and dwelling on the whys of Alyssa's behaviour felt like a dangerous exercise in futility. It would only encourage me and I did not need encouraging. I apologized to my employees for my brief lapse of attention and made a point of staying completely focussed when I was refreshed on the matter at hand. I let work bury me and drown out any random thoughts about Alyssa like what if I'd not stopped kissing her that night? Did she feel the same way about me as I did about her? This worked great and I hardly ever saw her. I suspected she avoided me too. Either way, I was relieved when her departure date drew closer. One more day, I thought. I just had to survive one more day and then everything would be back to normal. Alyssa would be miles away from me, no longer around to tempt me or feed the pesky hope that there could be something more between us.
***
"Mr. Ashbury, remember you have a dinner meeting with Mr. Dufort tonight at 9 at La Bonne Nuit."
I looked up from my laptop at my receptionist, Margeaux. "Damn, I forgot about that. Can't you reschedule?"
She looked confused. "No, because you specifically—"
"Yeah, yeah. I remember now. Big new French contract and Greg's on vacation so he can't take this one." I sighed. "Fine."
"You will need a translator. Mr. Dufort does not speak English," she continued, and then her tone got suggestive as she ostentatiously flipped her hair over her shoulder. "As you are aware, I am French, Mr. Ashbury. I can be your translator."
I leaned back in my chair and gazed at her. I'd slept with Margeaux once at a Christmas party in one of my various moments of absolute drunkenness and stupidity. I'd regretted it ever since. Sleeping with a co-worker was bad enough, but sleeping with an employee? Incredibly dumb especially where lawsuits were concerned. She often hinted at an encore, and I always pretended ignorance when she did. At least that was one mistake I had the good sense not to make again.
"Thank you, Margeaux, but that's fine. We've a professional translator on payroll already," I said evenly.
Margeaux's red lips curved in a triumphant smile. "She is sick with the flu."
"I see," I said. "Well, I'll think of something."
"Mr. Ashbury—"
I raised my hand to cut her off. "Again, thank you, Margeaux, but that will be all. I would like to get back to work now.
She pouted and I ignored it by pretending renewed interest in my laptop screen. When she'd left the room, I sighed in relief. I should have fired her a long time ago, but she was an excellent receptionist. It was not a wise practice to fire good employees just because their presence reminded one of their past misdeeds.
Nevertheless, I had a slight problem on my hands. I was to meet with a French client to conduct business negotiations despite the fact that neither of us would be able to understand each other. And even though Dufort would likely bring his own translator, as with lawyers, it was a good idea for me to have one too. Unfortunately, aside from Pam, the company's foreign affairs director and known polyglot, I only knew of two others who were likely translator candidates: Margeaux and Alyssa. Neither of which I wanted to interact with for too long.
Still, a choice had to be made, and of the two, I preferred Alyssa by far. Despite my plans to avoid Alyssa due to past…err…events…I'd much prefer her company than that of the persistent Margeaux. Deciding to take Alyssa to the dinner felt right somehow, and the more I considered it, the better I felt. I had Margeaux order and deliver some dinner clothes to my condo in her size, and I could tell by her self-satisfied smile that she thought they were for her. Nope, they weren't. She and Alyssa looked about the same size. It was the best I could do short of calling Alyssa and asking her to go shop for the clothes herself.
And I couldn't do that. She'd say no. Just as I knew she was going to say no when I asked her to the dinner with me tonight.
But I would change her mind. I was sure of it.
7: Alyssa
"No, and you can't change my mind. I'm pretty sure of that, you ass."
I scowled at Logan, outraged by his audacity. After avoiding me for days, how could he even think I'd want to help him? He couldn't possibly think I'd forget how he'd made my hope soar before subsequently shooting it out of the sky with a sniper gun?
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice shame on me. Fool me a gazillion times? Who was left to blame? All I knew was that I wouldn't go down that stupid path again. Initially, I'd been heartbroken by how callously he could throw me aside, but I'd grown to accept it. It was Logan's way after all. When he couldn't deal, he ignored or behaved horribly. And he was right. We couldn't do what we'd both clearly yearned to do that night. We were siblings. It didn't matter that we weren't blood related. He was my brother and I was his sister. Whatever feelings we had for each other were inappropriate and ought to die a swift death.
Limiting our time together, while painful, had been the right thing to do. It had taken me a while, but I'd followed in his footsteps. In the remaining week left on my trip, I'd gone out more with Melanie and Cassie and had resolved to have as much fun as possible to help take my mind off of the hurt of losing Logan. Whoever invented the phrase 'it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all' was probably one miserable fucker. It had been the suckiest few days of my life trying to quit cold turkey on my feelings for Logan.
Not that I'd achieved much progress on that front, anyway. The moment I'd seen Logan today, the memories of the night he first kissed me had returned with impressive clarity. The feel of his mouth and his hands on my body must have been imprinted into my flesh because even now, as he stood there watching me, I could feel his touch.
"I don't know why you'd not want to come," he said. "It's dinner at a fancy French restaurant. You love those places."
"Yeah, well, reheated Chinese sounds way more appealing t
o me right now," I responded as I turned to watch the TV. Anger prevented me from truly following what was going on in the show.
"Alyssa, why do you enjoy telling me no?"
I looked at him. "Maybe I learnt from the best."
Silence. Both of us knew what I meant.
"Please come with me tonight," he said quietly. "I really need your help."
I struggled to maintain a hardened heart but I was failing fast. Resisting Logan had always been tough. He had a way with whittling me down to his will.
I became desperate. I began to lie.
"I won't be of much help. I’m not that good at French."
He smiled and shook his head. "Yeah right. Do better than that, Miss Scholarship."
"I don't have any dress-up clothes. Only brought casual wear. Sorry."
"Good thing I bought you clothes then," he said, smiling.
"Those are for me?" My eyebrows lifted in surprise as I looked at the large pile of shopping bags in the center of the living room.
He reached for one of the bags and pulled out a gorgeous red dress.
"Last I checked I don't wear things like these."
My eyes drank in that dress. I wanted to touch it. I shouldn't. "Logan—"
"Alyssa," he said, handing the dress to me. "Go put this on and come have dinner with me."
***
Whatever guilt I felt for caving to Logan got washed away the moment I slipped on the dress. He tried to pretend he wasn't awed by the sight of me, but I'd seen the look and it pleased me to no end. At La Bonne Nuit, I turned heads but I feigned nonchalance so I could appear worldly.
While we conducted the meeting, Adrien, Mr. Dufort's translator and son, flirted with me openly and it was clear it irritated Logan. He frowned when I blushed at Adrien's compliments. He glared at the way Adrien fed me a forkful of his dessert. He scowled when Adrien said something funny in French and I laughed. By the end of the night, even though the business deal had been successful, Logan's mood had visibly taken a turn for the south.
"You did well," he said after the quiet drive home. "Thanks."
"Are you sure?" I said, kicking off my heels as I headed toward the kitchen for some water. I gave him an innocent look as I sipped from my glass. "You don't look pleased. Did I do something wrong?"
"You didn't," he said brusquely, loosening his tie. He'd looked handsome in his suit tonight. Like one of those hot businessmen on the front cover of a magazine with the headline, 'Top 10 Wealthy Hunks of the Year'. Coincidentally, Logan had made one of those stupid lists last year with an impressive #2 ranking.
We both stood in the kitchen, me leaning against the counter near the sink sipping on my water and him staring at the floor as he drummed his fingers on the kitchen island's surface. Clearly, something was bothering him.
I set my glass down. "Logan, what's—"
But he cut me off. "Did you give Dufort's son your number?"
"Yeah, so?" I was taken aback. How did he know that? Adrien and I had exchanged numbers outside the restaurant. Logan's back had been turned so I'd assumed he wasn't paying attention. I guess I was wrong.
"Why?"
I scoffed. "How is that any of your business?"
He folded his arms, his mouth a straight line of displeasure. "They're my new business partners and you're my stepsister. For professional reasons, I can't allow you to…to fraternize with Adrien Dufort."
"You've got to be joking," I said, shaking my head in amazement. "You can't seriously believe you can tell me who I can and can't fraternize with." I walked toward him as I continued, "And for your information, you ass, I only gave Adrien my number because he offered me a job."
"Quit calling me an ass."
"Quit being a jealous ass."
His gaze held mine as he came closer to me.
"You're not going to work for Adrien Dufort."
I couldn't move even though logic told me to get the hell out of there.
"Why is that?"
He edged me up against the island, trapping me between his hands by planting them on either side of me on the island's surface. My heart slammed against my chest as common sense warred with arousal. I should push him away. I should duck under his arms and run. I did none of those things. Heat pooled in the pit of my tummy and warmed between my legs even though Logan had done nothing but invaded my personal space.
"He can't have you," he said, his voice low. "You're mine."
"Logan," I said softly against his lips when he bent his head to kiss me. This time when our lips met it was far more gentle and exploratory. We savoured it and the taste of each other, but when the kiss deepened, sweet turned to frenzied and desperate again. It was as if some switch had been flicked on and it propelled us faster and further toward what we truly wanted.
Logan's hands roamed my body, curving down my waist, over my hips to grip and squeeze my ass. He pressed himself against me, groaning into my mouth. I could feel his hard length and the anticipation to have it buried deep inside me was almost too painful. When his hand cupped my breast over my dress, I moaned against his lips.
"I want you," he said huskily as he shoved my dress straps down my arms. "I don't fucking care how wrong it is, any more. I need to have you."
His words made me wetter, more anxious to have him too. I no longer cared that I wasn't supposed to be with him. I wiggled out of my dress and before I could step out of it, he hoisted me up onto the island. He kissed my neck as he undid my bra and I tilted my head back to give him better access.
"You're so fucking gorgeous," he said before bending his head to suck on my breasts.
"Oh god," I cried out, sifting my fingers through his hair. Never had I felt so alive, so exhilarated. My body felt like it was on fire despite the coolness of the island beneath my ass. Countless times I'd imagined what it would feel like to have Logan touch me and it was apparent my fantasies paled in comparison to the real thing. The feel of Logan's hot mouth and slick tongue curling around and lapping at my nipples was divine and I moaned with abandon, pressing his head closer to my chest so he could taste more of me.
When he lifted his head to kiss me again, I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. His belt came next. Then his pants. Soon we were equals, bare-chested with only our underwear as the final barrier between us and complete satisfaction. I leaned my hand down to grip him over his boxers and surprise filled me at the size of him. Sweet Jesus. I'd only ever been with two guys, neither of which had been anywhere close to Logan's length and girth.
The words tumbled out before I could stop them. "Oh my god, you're huge."
I wanted to slap the smirk off of his face when he leaned in to kiss me. "That's not a bad thing, sweetheart."
"Oh, shut up."
"I might, but you won't," he said, smoothing his hands down my arms and across my back. I loved feeling his hands on me. "Not when you'll be screaming my name."
"Wow, so arrogant." I squeezed him and relished his groan.
"Nope, just confident." He pushed me to lie down completely on the island and I pulled my legs up as well, keeping them demurely closed. But Logan was having none of that. He spread my legs open wide and any sense of shyness got obliterated the moment he pushed my panties to the side and settled his mouth on my pussy.
"Oh my god, Logan," I moaned, my hand moving to sink into his hair again as Logan's tongue slid along my lips, parting them as he quested up to my clit. His mouth closed around my sensitive nub and he began to suck on it gently while his tongue caressed it too. My body shivered from the exquisite pleasure of Logan's warm, wet mouth on me and I whimpered when he pushed a digit into my wet channel. My hips gyrated, my body rocking against Logan's mouth and finger. My moans became louder as that familiar pressure built. God, he was so good at that. So fucking good. I was going to come. I was going to come so hard on his mouth and he knew it. He pushed a second digit into me, lapping at me with increased ardency.
"Oh…oh god…Logan…" I whimpered, my body shaking as that pr
essure exploded and the sweet warmth filled my center. He didn't let up. He continued to taste me until my quivering had subsided.
"Told you," he said with a self-satisfied smile, kissing the insides of my thighs before raising himself up.
I laughed a little breathlessly, struggling to sit up. "Screw you."
"My pleasure."
He shoved his boxers down, unveiling his beautiful cock to my greedy eyes. He was as big as I'd felt, rock hard and pointing straight at me. I wanted to taste him, but Logan made it apparent he was interested in something more. He pulled me in for a deep, sexy kiss, his tongue swirling and dominating mine as his cock twitched between us.
"I want this," he said against my lips. "Do you?"
"I've always wanted this, Logan," I said.
He slipped off my panties and there were no more barriers between us. I wrapped my arms around his neck and scooted closer to the edge of the island, while Logan lifted legs over his forearms and positioned himself at my entrance. He claimed my mouth once more swallowing my gasp when he pushed into my tight, wet heat. When he pulled out and slid back into me once more, we both groaned in unison.
"Fuck, you feel amazing," he said with another groan as he began to move in earnest. I held on to him, throwing my head back as he kissed my neck and pounded into me. None of my dreams of having Logan could make up for the reality of this moment. I moaned from the delicious pleasure of his cock stretching and filling me with each thrust. Again, that pressure was building, climbing higher as Logan pushed into me faster and harder.
"Fuck…fuck yes…Logan…" I wailed, and louder still as the pressure crested and my walls constricted around Logan's girth. He groaned, quickening his pace as my head spun and my body shook with the force of my orgasm. He held me in a tight embrace as he leant forward and kissed me hard, groaning against my lips as he exploded into me, filling me up completely.
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