by Becky McGraw
His brain cleared and he eased back upright. With a sense of purpose, Dave jerked his leather jacket from the peg on the coat rack beside his door, grabbed his keys from the desk and headed out his office.
As of today, his two weeks were up. That’s how long she’d given Dave Logan to call her. Susan was done, she thought, as she slammed the drawer shut on her desk. No more fucking crying, and no more sleeping with both the portable phone and her cell by her pillow at night. Why in the hell she thought he might call her, Susan didn’t know.
Because she was an idiot who thought the connection she’d felt with him several times while they were at that clinic were real. For a smart woman, she had been incredibly dumb. He had been there on the job, his actions and reactions were directly related. They had nothing to do with how he felt about her personally. Neither had the incredible sex they had.
She had been a convenient and willing woman who scratched an itch he’d had for two years before she came along. Logan had been horny, and she’d been available. Mutual consenting adult recreation is all that had been about. She knew that now without a doubt.
Last night Susan had removed her intimate jewelry, and fucking bawled again, which was ridiculous. She wasn’t going to be that woman anymore, someone controlled by her body. Today she was going to start moving on to find out exactly who she was now. Without her stature at the bureau and without Dave Logan. What she figured she’d end up with was someone a lot happier and eons wiser than she had been before. One thing was for sure, she wasn’t falling in love ever again. Ever. But she was going to date, because other than her sister who was only with her temporarily until she fully recovered, Susan was alone.
Casual dating would help her deal with that. On her terms.
With a sigh, she picked up the phone and called Rick Murphy. A pleasant lunch date with a man was just what she needed today to give her spirits a lift. He’d asked her often enough. At least once a day since she started her new job. So what if he was just a little older, and a lot grayer than Logan. A man with more maturity would be a welcome change, she thought, as she got his voice mail. “Hi, Rick. This is Susan Whitmore. I wondered if you were available for lunch today? I’ll be leaving in about fifteen minutes, so if you’re there, just come on down.” If he didn’t show, she’d go by herself. She was going to get used to being alone, even if it killed her.
Gathering the papers scattered around her desk, Susan shuffled them into a pile, then put them into her desk drawer and shut it. When she raised up, a pair of large male hands were pressed in the middle of her desk. Her eyes slid up the leather covered arms to meet Dave Logan’s sunglass shaded eyes. “Have lunch with me,” he said shortly in the form of a statement, not a question. “We need to talk.”
“Oh, you suddenly found your voice. How nice for you,” Susan said calmly, even though her heart felt like it was on a runaway horse. She dragged her gaze to her computer screen, and blinked because that damned burn was back. “I’m busy, Logan. Just leave me alone.”
The burn got worse as she breathed, waiting for him to leave. She would cancel her date with Rick. She wasn’t in the mood now. Susan needed a long walk to get herself together, instead of food.
Logan didn’t move or say a word. He just hovered there, his eyes scorching her from behind those damned dark shades. “I have another mission for you,” he said, and her heart kicked into overdrive, but Susan didn’t bite. She opened her email and sorted through the ones she’d already read that morning.
“Not interested, Logan,” she replied drolly. She’d eventually get a field job here to get her out from behind this desk, her boss told her so. After the operation at the clinic, and the sense of accomplishment she felt when it was successful, Susan decided she wanted to be in the field again.
“You haven’t even heard what it is yet, sweet cheeks,” he said and Susan fought the pull of the nickname on her heart.
She looked directly at him. “Do not call me that again, Logan. My name is Susan, use it,” she growled.
“Okay, Susan—I have a mission for you. It’s a long term project.”
“Get someone else, Logan. Not interested,” she growled, slapping her mouse against the mouse pad when it lagged.
“Nobody else will do. It has to be you, Bunny,” he said in that sexy coaxing tone that always got to her. Not this time, asshole.
Susan saw movement over his left shoulder, and shot to her feet as Rick Murphy walked into her office. “Hi, Susan—I’m glad you called. I was just headed out to lunch by myself,” he said with a wide smile.
She’d never been so glad to see someone in her life. “Oh, I’m glad you could make it, Rick,” Susan said pleasantly. “Let me just get my purse.”
Susan bent to open the bottom drawer, and when she stood again, Logan wasn’t leaning on her desk anymore. The damned alpha bastard was blocking Rick from coming into her office. His legs were spread, his back up and his arms crossed.
He pushed his sunglasses up to the top of his head. “She has a lunch date,” he growled in a low lethal tone. Rick looked surprised as he backed out of the doorway with his hands up, as if he thought Logan might shoot him. The crazy bastard might just do that, she thought, biting back a laugh.
Susan walked around her desk. “I don’t have a lunch date, Rick, but I’m sorry, I’ll have to cancel today.” She had to kill what she was going to eat for lunch first.
“Fine, just call me when you’re available,” he said as he turned and walked away.
Logan spun to face her, and his eyes were as red-rimmed as hers were without the help of concealer, eyeliner and mascara which she’d finally mastered the application of. “You will never have a lunch or any other kind of date with that man, capisce?” he grated.
Susan laughed, because she couldn’t help herself. “You’ve been hanging around Italian mobsters too long, Logan. You’re becoming one, and you’re not Italian if you haven’t noticed,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Goodbye, Logan,” she said with a finality that made her heart jerk in her chest. She grabbed her purse off the desk and breezed past him, because she had to get out of this building before she lost what little control she had left.
To her dismay, Logan followed closely behind her. So close she felt his heat on her back. She stopped at the elevator, and he almost rear-ended her. She pushed the button and spun around. “I don’t know what you’re game is, Logan, but I’m not playing.” Her eyes made a trip down his hard body to his toes, then glided back up. “It was fun, but it was a mistake and it’s done. Just call Cee Cee when you get hard up.”
The elevator opened, and Susan strode inside, so did Logan. The doors closed, and he slapped a palm against the stop button, then jammed her body into the wall with his. “It’s not done, until I say it’s done, sweet cheeks,” Logan growled, as he slammed his mouth down over hers, swallowing her words.
Susan’s body tensed, then melted as he devoured her mouth transmitting feelings through their connection that short-circuited her brain. With a whimper she took his face in her hands, and kissed him even harder, opened her mouth, so his tongue could find hers.
His hands slid down her body to her thighs, and he hiked up her skirt to palm her ass. His touch branded her, and the melting sensation inside her body settled between her thighs, as his hips ground against hers. Susan moaned, and her hips joined the action. With every rotation of her hips, his hard cock rubbed her clit, and she inched closer to the orgasm she wanted, needed badly. His fingers dug into her ass to pull her tighter against him, as his hips jammed into her body. A light, bodyless feeling started near her toes, crept up her legs, then rushed to her head making her dizzy. Susan moaned into his mouth, as a tremor rocked her and she floated off into the stratosphere. He stilled, but held her tight, until she came back down to earth, then backed away. Cool air brushed her front, and a sense of loss almost brought her to her knees.
“Logan,” she whispered hoarsely, that burn in her eyes returning tenfold.
He stepped forward and put a finger over her mouth. “Let me talk,” he said, and the emotion in his voice brought a tidal surge of the same inside of her.
Susan nodded and Logan reached in his pocket, then sucked in a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, as he sank to his knees, he took her left hand in his and slid Bunny’s ring onto her finger. “I’m an idiot, baby. Slade is right—I let you go—and that has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I need Bunny in my life to make me laugh, Susan to piss me off and keep me fucking straight. And you, sweet cheeks, to make my boring, workaholic ways seem much less appealing. I’m a useless bastard without you, Susan.”
She didn’t want to ask, but she had to. “What do you need Cee Cee for? When you said her name, there was something in your voice that said she means something to you, Logan.”
His brows slammed down over his eyes. “My sister?” he asked.
Holy crap, she felt like a moron. All this time she’d been jealous of the woman, and now to find out she wasn’t his lover, but his freaking sister. Why had she automatically assumed that woman was his lover anyway?
Because women in love were very protective of their men. And Susan was definitely in love with Dave Logan. A sense of relief and elation floated through her. “Sister?” Susan repeated with a laugh. “I didn’t even know you had one.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, sweet cheeks. But if you’ll give me the next hundred years or so, I will be happy to fill you in. I love you, Susan. I’ve never said those words to another woman in my life, and I have a feeling I never will. You’re it for me, baby. Till death do us part, or until we kill each other, whichever comes first. Will you give me that?”
Susan’s heart disintegrated in her chest, swelled then melded back together making it feel too full to hold the organ. She eased down to her knees and grabbed his face. “I live in Texas, so I have a shotgun and a shovel. I can definitely give you the death part if you try to let me go again,” Susan said with a watery laugh.
Logan didn’t laugh, his smile faded and his eyes darkened. “If I promise never to let you go again, will you use that shotgun to watch my six for the rest of our lives, baby? Do you love me, Susan?”
“I do, Dave Logan. I will always have your six, seven, eight, nine and ten, if you’ll have mine” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “Till death do us part, or we kill each other,” she whispered over his mouth, before she kissed him.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Becky McGraw is a married mother of three adult children, with her first grandbaby on the way. Originally from Louisiana, Becky has also lived in Indiana and Texas and now resides in Florida with her husband and dog Abby.
A jack of many trades in her life, Becky has been an optician, a beautician, a legal secretary, a senior project manager for an aviation management consulting firm, which took her all over the United States, a real estate broker, and now a graphic artist, web designer and writer. She knows just enough about a variety of topics to make her dangerous, and her romance novels interesting and varied. Being a graphic artist is a good thing for her too, because she creates her own cover art, along with writing the novels.
Becky has been an avid reader of romance novels since she was a teenager, and has been known to read up to four novels of that genre a week, much to the dismay of her husband, and the delight of e-book sellers. She has been writing fictional short stories and novels for fun, as well as technical copy for her jobs for many years. She was a member of the Writer's Guild on AOL during her last venture into writing romance, as well as a founding member and treasurer of the first online chapter of the Romance Writers of America, From the Heart Romance Writers. Currently, she is a member of both organizations.
You can contact Becky McGraw at [email protected]
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