“No problem.” She still looked a little suspicious, as though she could see straight through me and knew something was off. I stared her down for a long moment, waiting for her to back off, and after a moment she shrugged and seemed satisfied.
“Fine.” She sighed and turned down the hallway to go join Erin. “I’ll be waiting here when you get back, alright? Have a good shift at work.”
“Yeah, thanks.” I nodded to her; usually, I would have been more effusive in my gratitude, but all I could think about was hitting the fucking bricks before I blurted out something else that gave her a reason to second-guess me. I headed for the door, calling goodbye to Erin as I went, and was glad as soon as I shut it behind me.
Had she figured it out too? If she had been with Ant when I made the call, she had to have put the pieces together. How did she not know who I was? I had met almost all of Ant’s friends over the years, one way or another, and yet this one managed to move in downstairs from me, and I never laid eyes on her before in my life. This was ridiculous. There was no way this could be happening. It had to be someone else … No. Like it or not, I had fucked one of my sister’s friends, and somehow my sister still didn’t know anything about it. Which meant I was just in time for some serious damage control.
I glanced at my watch—I didn’t have long, but this was worth being a few minutes late for. I hesitated for a moment outside her door, remembering how I felt yesterday when I walked out of the place. I had been dead certain she would never want to lay eyes on me again after I pulled the ultimate ungentlemanly move and left right after we had sex, but she was just going to have to suck it up and deal with it because we needed to straighten this out before it got out of control.
I banged on the door. She had to be in there unless she’d hired another moving van and fled across the city when she found out what she had done; Ant had a hell of a temper on her, and if she even remotely thought that she or someone close to her was being fucked around, then there would be trouble. We had to put a pin in this now.
A moment later, she opened the door—and a mixture of relief and panic passed over her face when she saw that I was the one standing behind it.
“Hey,” she glanced around, making sure that Ant wasn’t anywhere to be seen. “I think we need to talk—”
“We do,” I told her urgently. “But I have to be at work in twenty minutes, and I don’t have a lot of time. Let’s cut to the chase, huh?”
“So you figured it out too?” She pulled a face, and I couldn’t help noticing that she looked even better than yesterday—that said, I had caught her in the middle of moving, and nobody looked their hottest then. She was a good night’s sleep and a hot shower away from the last time I’d seen her, and she looked smoothed-out around the edges, even cuter than before. Her blonde-red hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and her green eyes flashed in the light.
“Yeah, I didn’t get your name when she was on the phone, but I figured it out when she came up,” I told her. “I really had no idea who you were, I swear. I wasn’t trying to pull some game with you or something.”
“Me neither,” she agreed hurriedly. “If I’d known you were Ant’s brother …”
I knew what she was going to say, and I nodded along in agreement—but looking at her right then and there, I wasn’t sure that I could honestly say I wouldn’t have gone for it anyway. In fact, even standing here right now, knowing that my sister and my daughter were just a few feet above us, I had to fight the urge to lean in and kiss her again, just to see what she would do.
“We can’t do it again.” She shook her head. “Agreed?”
“Agreed.” I stuck my hand out to her, and she slipped hers into mine. As soon as our skin connected, I felt a jolt of electricity pass from her skin to mine, as though someone had run a live wire up my arm. She pulled back quickly, as though she had felt it too, and she swiftly lowered her gaze to the ground.
“And she can’t find out about this,” she mumbled. “If she does, she’d kill me.”
“Uh, kill you? No, she’d come straight after me, and you know it,” I corrected her.
“You want to bet?” She glanced up at me, her eyes lighting up playfully, and I found myself lingering in that doorway longer than I planned to.
“Don’t tempt me,” I replied. I glanced at my watch and knew that I couldn’t stick around any longer without seriously landing in danger of losing my job, and that was the last thing I needed.
“I have to go.” I stepped away from her reluctantly. “But let me know if there’s anything … uh, if Ant starts to catch on or anything.”
“Will do,” she saluted me. “And thanks for the heads-up with her. Always good to know what I’m dealing with.”
“I’ll see you later,” I replied without thinking and wanted to slap my hand to my forehead and scurry away. She raised her eyebrows at me, looking amused by the slip.
“Oh, will you?” she teased, and I ducked and walked away before I found any more excuses to hang around and flirt with her a little longer. I needed to get to work.
I hurried down there, making the last train before they stopped running for the night, and rushed through the door at my job just a minute after I was due to start.
“You’re running late,” Elijah, my boss, remarked.
I shrugged at him. “In my defense, you called me in an hour ago,” I pointed out. No need to tell him that I had been handling a convoluted personal drama.
“Yeah, fair enough.” He shrugged. “Thanks for covering for us. I would leave Oliver to cover service tonight, but he seems a little—”
“Logan?”
The voice came from behind me, and I turned to find Oliver standing right there. I wondered how much he’d heard. He never seemed to take criticism that well—not that anyone in this industry did—and he wasn’t my biggest fan. He arrived at the restaurant a few months after me and was a bit resentful that I had made friends and got the good shifts before he did.
“I didn’t think you were going to make it in,” he remarked, in what I assumed he thought was a joking tone.
I cocked an eyebrow. “Hoping to get the kitchen to yourself?” I remarked, and he smiled, a little weakly.
“Haha,” Oliver replied, and it sounded like he was precisely spelling out those letters.
Elijah and I exchanged a brief glance, and I turned to get cleaned up and changed for the night. But as I washed my hands and pulled on my whites, I couldn’t help finding my mind straying back to that conversation I had with Nina, right before I’d left—the grin on her face, the flirtation in her voice like she didn’t want me to forget just what it was we had shared that day together. As if I ever could.
Chapter 5
Nina
Honestly, I had it set in my mind that it was never going to happen again.
Especially after the conversation we had together when we both made it pretty clear that neither of us wanted to fuck up our respective relationships with Ant, so it was just best all-around if we left it where it was. It had been nothing but a one-off, and it was clear that he intended to keep it that way. And I did too, of course. Obviously. I didn’t want this. Did I?
The more I thought about it, the easier it was to talk myself out of what would obviously have been a seriously dumb choice. I was glad that I found out about him and his kid sooner rather than later because I had a feeling it would have been all too easy to fall for someone like him—and then where would I have been? He had a child, pretty much the only deal breaker that I’d ever had in my entire life, and I wouldn’t have wanted to have that awkward conversation where I had to explain to him that no matter how great I was sure his daughter was, I didn’t want kids, and nothing was going to change my mind about that. He was hot, sure, but not hot enough to justify turning my whole life upside down.
It was frustrating, though, because normally I would have gone to Ant for guidance on this kind of thing—but there was no way she wouldn’t figure out who I was really talking
about. Logan had been right about his sister; the question, if she found out about the two of us, wasn’t if she’d kill us, but rather who she would kill first. If she had wanted to bring us together, then she would have done it already, and I had to trust her judgment and assume that she had a very good reason for that.
But not having anyone to talk about it with made it harder and harder to shake from my head. I should have just shoved it away in a closet marked “never look again” and moved on with my life, but I was newly single and being all alone in that apartment was starting to get to me now that the thrill of moving in had started to wear off. Now it was just big and empty most of the time, and the more time I spent there, the more I found myself wishing I had somebody to share it with.
So one night, I found myself sipping on my second glass of wine, my mind racing. My ex had never been great in bed—obviously since that would have required him to actually listen to me—and now that I had a taste of the good stuff and knew the source was directly upstairs, it was hard to keep my head straight.
I put down the glass and went for a shower. I would have cleaned the place, but I had only just moved in, and there wasn’t much to take care of; in fact, most of the time, the place felt a little sad, still not fully decorated because I didn’t have the money to do it up the way I wanted to. I scrubbed my skin, hoping that it would be enough to get the craving for physical touch out of my mind, but it didn’t seem to do the trick. I returned to my glass, took myself to bed, and perched on the edge, glancing at the drawer that contained my vibrator. I could just … I could just get myself there. Get it out of my system before my stupid desire made me do something that I knew I shouldn’t.
No. I was a big girl, and just because I was attracted to someone physically didn’t mean I had to pleasure myself to think straight. The logical part of my brain was going to win out because I needed to rely on it in future; I needed to know that it was going to make itself known when I needed it to. Yes, I could rely on myself. I just needed to keep busy and ignore the fact that I could hear Logan moving around upstairs, so I knew he wasn’t at work. That was irrelevant information. I didn’t care where he was … unless I needed a cup of sugar.
I should have put down the wine, but the soft, warm buzz was helping get my mind off everything running through my head. Or at least I thought it was. But instead, as I felt the alcohol really hit my system, I realized I was just running his name through my head repeatedly: Logan, Logan, Logan. He had a good name, one that seemed to roll sweetly off the tongue, and I wanted to do more than that with my tongue to him tonight.
Eventually, I heard the footsteps upstairs quieten—well, the little ones, the pitter-patter of feet on the ceiling above me. I downed the last of my glass and traced my finger around the rim; I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t even think about it. It had been a full week since we last even spoke to each other, and I had been perfectly happy keeping myself busy all that time. So why was it so stuck in my head now? Why did it pulse in the front of my brain like the only thing in the world that mattered, like an addiction I needed a fix on? I was going over those memories I had tried to lock away, the ones regarding what we had done together that first time. He had been so controlled, so strong, so passionate—I wanted that again, and I wanted it with him.
I closed my eyes. Was I going to do this, or wasn’t I? Indecisiveness, I decided suddenly, was worse than going back on a promise. Was I going to do this or not? Was I going to go up there, and …?
Before I knew it, I was grabbing my shoes and heading up there, heart pounding in my chest. I was so damn horny for him, and it all seemed to swell up on me at once—the tips of my fingers tingled, my body anticipating how good this would feel. What if he shot me down? The thought passed swiftly through my mind, but I shoved it out at once. No point letting myself get upset over being rejected before I’d even given him a chance to do it. I just wanted his hands on me, his mouth on mine …
I was wearing a pair of shorts and a strappy top, nothing serious, and at least I thought to shave and slick on some lip balm that evening, so I didn’t look like a total mess. I had lathered myself in body lotion, something I maybe remembered to do once a month at most, as though subconsciously I knew what I was going to do that evening. I arrived outside his door and hesitated for a split second; was this really dumb? Disrespectful? He had said we had to lock things down between us, not let it happen again. And yet, here I was.
Before I could talk myself out of it or so much as lift my knuckles to knock on the door, it opened, and I found myself face-to-face with the man I hadn’t been able to get out of my head. I opened my mouth, trying to think of something to say, and swiftly closed it again.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, glancing around as though this was somehow a set-up from his sister meant to catch him in the act. “Do you need something?”
“You,” I blurted out before I could stop myself, and he came to a dead halt right there in front of me. I would never normally have come out with something so cheesy, but my brain had shut down as soon as I set eyes on him; his beard was a little scruffy and his hair a little messy, peak dad-hot.
He raised his eyebrows at me and burst out laughing—well, that was better than him just turning me away on the spot, right? I shifted on the cold floor and moved towards him.
“I know we said we wouldn’t do it again,” I continued, speaking quickly, breathlessly, quietly. “But tonight, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you …”
“I’ve been thinking about you all week,” he admitted, and I bit my lip, and I noticed that his eyes flew straight to my mouth; I let my tongue trace my bottom lip slowly, watching as his eyes darkened a little in reaction. I loved this, how clear he was about his desire for me, how little he fought the urge to hold back.
“Can I come inside?” I asked.
“How bad would it be if I said, ‘Only if I can?’” he replied, and I burst out laughing and slapped my hand over my mouth to keep from attracting any attention to us. He held his hand out to me.
“Come on, my daughter’s asleep,” he told me and tugged me over the threshold, kicked the door shut behind me, and then pushed me up against the solid wood and kissed me again.
My toes curled as I kicked my shoes off and leaned into the kiss, and I thanked my lucky stars that he was as into this as I was. His hand looped around my waist as he pulled me against him, and I let out a moan against his lips—he pulled back and pressed a finger to my lips.
“We have to be quiet,” he reminded me, and I sucked on the tip of his finger and slipped my hand between his legs, gripping at his swiftly-growing erection.
“I can manage that,” I assured him, and he kissed me once more, sinking his fingers into my hips roughly as though trying to keep from making a sound by channeling it into my body.
Which I was more than fine with. I wrapped my arms around him, and he swept me off the ground and carried me towards his bedroom, my legs curled around his hips, pulling him close. He was so addictive, more intoxicating than wine could ever be, and I tried to forget about the fact that his daughter was somewhere in this apartment with us. I just had to keep quiet and get out before the morning, and I would be just fine.
He closed the bedroom door quietly behind us and then slipped down onto the bed beside me; sliding his hand up my shirt, he pinched my nipple between his fingers and leaned down to kiss me again.
“You have no idea how much I was hoping you would come back up here,” he murmured against my lips, catching one between his teeth and tugging lightly. I wriggled on the bed and stroked my hand over the stubble on his jaw; I liked its roughness, liked the contrast with the gentleness of his touch. My nipple was already swelling and growing hard beneath his fingers, and he began to make his way lazily down my neck as I arched off the bed, grinding against the air, desperate for relief. I looked down at him, at this absurdly handsome man as he traced his mouth across my skin, and I knew that we shouldn’t be doing this—and yet,
there was no part of me that wanted to stop.
“You smell so good,” he moaned softly, his breath warm on my skin, and I tilted his chin up so he was looking right at me.
“I want you to fuck me,” I murmured, and I wondered where this woman had come from, this woman who could talk dirty as hell, who could flirt and seduce and say precisely what she meant. Maybe she had just been waiting for the right man to show up—maybe she had never been aroused enough to give in to her desires like this before.
Logan moved up over me and kissed me again, this time moving between my legs; I lifted my hips and pressed them against him, already craving that gorgeous cock inside of me.
But he seemed keen to tease me and to make me wait. He stripped me slowly, lifting my hands over my head as he pulled my shirt off; he touched them briefly, running his fingers over my skin.
“Keep them here,” he ordered me, voice tense in my ear, and I did as I was told, knowing that he was going to make it worth my while. I closed my eyes and parted my lips as he moved down my neck once more, letting his mouth trail down my throat, across my heart. He grazed his tongue over my nipples so gently that it almost hurt, and when I let out a tiny sigh, he reached up to cover my mouth. Unable to make a sound, unable to touch him, everything ramped up a notch as he moved down, down, down.
His mouth was on my lower belly as I drew his fingers into my mouth, running my tongue around the tips and sucking softly; his brow furrowed slightly as though he was doing his best not to get distracted. He withdrew his fingers from my mouth and trailed them over my throat for a split second before they found my breasts once more, using the lubrication of my saliva to torment me further. I pressed my lips together to keep from making a sound as he moved further down, pulling off my shorts and panties and spreading my legs like he owned me, and I needed reminding of it.
He brushed his mouth up the inside of my thigh and glanced up at me with questioning eyes; I blinked and wriggled back and forth, letting him know that I wanted him. His breath was warm on my pussy, and the pressure was almost getting too much to bear. All I wanted to do was reach down and pull his mouth against my pussy—but I held my hands above my head, just as he’d asked, doing my best not to make any noise as I waited for him to give me the relief I so sorely needed. My hips were grinding the air again, the need intense, impossible to escape. And finally, finally, he pressed his mouth to my pussy and gave me what I needed.
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