Off Limits (Sparks in Texas Book 4)

by Mari Carr

  In addition to his creative talents in the woodshop, he used to play bass in Tyson’s Collective, her cousin’s bluegrass band. He could beat out one hell of a rhythm on the bass. What was it about musicians that made them so freaking irresistible and hot?

  Plus Logan wasn’t hard to look at. At all. He was six-one, with chestnut-brown hair that he wore just a touch too long, which gave him a permanent just-rolled-out-of-bed look that never failed to send her thoughts straight to sex. In addition to that—and his muscular arms and his chiseled jaw and his five o’clock shadow and his great ass—were his eyes. God. Logan had the most striking blue eyes she’d ever seen. They were ice blue, so light and piercing, she got lost in them.

  Like now.

  She blinked rapidly when she realized Logan was speaking to her. She hadn’t heard a word he’d said.

  “Lacy? Did you hear me?”

  “Um. Sorry. Music is too loud,” she lied.

  “I said I finished fixing your chaise lounge. Wondered if you wanted me to deliver it to your place sometime next week.”

  She had found a gorgeous chaise at a flea market a month earlier. Picked the thing up for a song, but it had a couple loose legs and the upholstery had been torn. She’d driven it straight to Logan’s store and asked him to fix it for her.

  “That would be great, but I can come get it.”

  He chuckled as he leaned closer. “You were lucky you got the thing to me the first time. Still can’t believe you managed to strap it to the roof of your car.”

  “It was too big for the trunk.”

  “I’ll drop it by in my truck. It’s not too heavy. Figure the two of us can get it up the stairs to your apartment on our own.”

  She nodded, delighted by the prospect of having Logan in her apartment alone. Not that it would make one iota of difference in the way he treated her.

  To Logan, she would always be Evan’s kid sister, which made her off-limits. The two idiots had actually made some sort of vow about it back when they were sophomores in high school. Evan called it their bro code, like that cliché wasn’t old and tired.

  Of course, Lacy knew their promise to not bang each other’s sisters all those years ago had had absolutely nothing to do with her, and everything to do with Logan encouraging Evan to keep his hands off his sister, Rachel.

  Rachel had been a year older than Logan and Evan, and growing up, she’d been the Maris High School It Girl. Every guy in the school—and Amanda—had been in love with her. And Rachel had been in love with at least half of them. Unlike Macie, Rachel had been a bit less discerning when it came to sex, and she’d gotten one hell of a reputation by the time she’d hit senior year.

  Lacy suspected Logan initiated the bro code as his attempt at managing to keep at least one boy out of Rachel’s pants. And Evan, because he was a good guy, had agreed to keep his hands off. Then he’d solicited the same promise from Logan.

  She figured Logan hadn’t even had to think twice before agreeing. After all, at the time, Lacy had been the annoying eight-year-old who hovered around them like a gnat that they constantly had to swat away. They had both been totally oblivious to the fact that even then she’d been in love with Logan.

  Logan had eternal dibs on her heart. He had been her first crush, her first love, and the man to occupy every sex dream she’d ever had. When she’d kissed her pillow in eighth grade, she pretended it was him, and she had at least three notebooks she’d accumulated during middle and high school that were filled with her name and his.

  Mr. and Mrs. Logan Grady. Logan and Lacy Grady. Logan + Lacy. LG heart LS.

  And the worst part about all of it was, he didn’t have a clue.

  Logan looked at her and, rather than noticing she was now an available, attractive woman of twenty-seven, he still saw the kid sister.

  Of course, it wasn’t like Logan had been looking around much. He’d been happily shacked up with Jane for three years, then mourning her departure the last twelve months.

  There had been very few people in Maris who hadn’t expected to hear wedding bells in Jane and Logan’s future, so everyone had been shocked when Jane moved out. And she hadn’t just vacated their apartment, she’d left town. Packed up her stuff and hit the road.

  Unfortunately, the rumor mill was precious low on details about the breakup, apart from her moving back home for another guy. Lacy suspected there was more. Evan, no doubt, knew what had gone down between the couple, but he would never betray a confidence and Lacy would never ask him to.

  In the end, she realized she didn’t really care why they broke up. She was just grateful as hell they had. For so many years, she feared she had missed her chance with him.

  The table became too crowded for her to continue her conversation with Logan when the rest of the women returned from the dance floor. Then Macie dragged Coop over to join them.

  Despite their protestations at the guys’ presence, Lacy had to admit the party was more fun with them there. So much so, Sydney called Chas and asked him to come join them, which he did.

  It was safe to say Lacy was having one of the best times of her life. She was surrounded by all of her favorite people in the world. Lacy’s life was pretty simple, composed of work, flea markets and yard sales, and home. Occasionally she dated, but, like Macie, she wasn’t having much luck on the boyfriend front. And since learning that Logan had broken up with Jane, she’d turned down every single guy who’d asked her out—all three of them—because in her foolish, stupid heart, she still hoped that Logan would finally notice her.

  So they drank, ate, talked, laughed and danced the night away, and even the fact that Logan had headed to the dance floor a couple of times with other women hadn’t dimmed her enjoyment of the evening.

  Eventually, the couples began to peel off. Jeannette was the first to leave with her hot firefighters. Not that anyone could blame her for being in a hurry to get home with those two. While ménages were far from the norm, Lacy couldn’t deny Jeannette, Luc and Diego fit together perfectly.

  Sydney and Chas were the next to go. According to a very tipsy Sydney, they needed to start practicing for the honeymoon. Amanda and Brandi walked out with them.

  Over the next hour, everyone else left, the sober ones offering rides to those who had over-imbibed until it was only Logan, Evan and Lacy left at the table.

  “Slim pickings tonight, I’m afraid,” Evan said as he slapped Logan on the back. It occurred to Lacy, her brother had brought his friend out tonight in hopes of finding him a girl. Or maybe just getting him laid.

  It took all the strength she had not to jump up and down, wave her hands around and shout “Yoo-hoo! I’m right here.”

  Logan shrugged. “I wasn’t really looking.” He picked up his beer and took a swig, giving Evan a teasing grin as he winked at Lacy. “Let’s face it. Hottest girls here tonight were all related to you.”

  Evan chuckled. “Bro code is still in effect. I know all about you, you kinky bastard. She’s my sister.”

  Lacy felt like kicking her brother under the table. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell them she knew all about Logan’s kinks, but both men would die if they realized everything she knew. If they found out she had followed Logan one afternoon about ten years ago and gotten one hell of a sex education…

  Gladys Winthrop’s granddaughter, Yvette, had traveled from New York to spend the summer with her. Every redneck in town had honed in on the city girl about ten seconds after she crossed the city line. Strangers in Maris were few and far between and when a gorgeous woman wandered into their midst, all the guys took notice.

  However, it was Logan who had the distinct privilege of being the man to capture her attention. The two of them had been inseparable that summer—and Lacy had wanted to know why.

  Then she’d found out. Oh man, had she found out.

  She had followed the couple as they left the annual Fourth of July picnic at the public beach early and returned to Gladys’ lake house. Peering through the bedroo
m window, Lacy had seen Yvette on her knees, her hands bound behind her as she gave Logan a blowjob. That ended when Logan picked her up, placed her facedown over his lap and started spanking her. She might have worried, if Yvette hadn’t been begging for more, her expression one of total bliss.

  Lacy had been equal parts horrified and turned on. At seventeen, she’d only just begun to truly discover her sexuality. That day had molded her fantasies, sparked feelings she had never had the opportunity to explore, and ignited cravings she had never wanted to indulge in with anyone other than Logan.

  The deejay announced the last dance at the same time Evan’s phone rang. “It’s Annie. I need to take this.” He stepped outside to take the call from his wife, leaving her alone with Logan.

  “Want to dance?” she asked.

  He shrugged good-naturedly. “Sure. Why not?”

  She fought down her annoyance at the realization he was just humoring her.

  Then she decided it was time to set the record straight.

  Maybe he was determined to cast her in the role of little sister, and maybe he was determined to keep his hands off her because of some stupid teenage vow, and maybe he was still getting over his last girlfriend—but enough was enough.

  There was no way Logan Grady was leaving here tonight without the knowledge that she was an experienced, available and completely fuckable woman who was more than capable of keeping up with him in the bedroom. She refused to take one more second of his condescending pats on the head that made her feel eternally eight years old.

  He took her in his arms, maintaining a polite distance that she instantly broached. He stiffened briefly as she pressed her breasts firmly against his chest. His hands rested lightly on her waist, the touch platonic, boring. She didn’t follow suit as she wrapped her hands around his neck, letting her fingers play with his hair. It was even thicker than it looked.

  Lifting up on her tiptoes, she lightly ran her lips along his neck. Logan’s hands tightened, and for a moment, she expected him to push her away. Instead, he surprised her, letting his fingers drift around her back until he’d managed to split the difference between touching her waist and her ass.

  Then he used his grip to tug her closer, letting her feel his erection pressed against her stomach—and it occurred to Lacy her plan was backfiring. She hadn’t anticipated Logan returning her touches. In her mind, she would leave him hot and bothered, his punishment for failing to acknowledge her as a woman.

  So much for that idea.

  Her pussy clenched and her nipples tightened when his hands drifted even lower, his palms molding themselves to her ass.

  Unable to resist, she glanced up and found him looking at her curiously.

  “How much have you had to drink?” he asked.

  “Not much.”

  Not enough.

  She’d been relatively sober when they’d stepped on the dance floor, but now she felt wasted, her legs stumbling, barely able to hold herself upright under his sensual touches, and her brain was fuzzy from a system overload of arousal.

  She kept one hand in his hair as the other traveled along his chest, her fingers digging into the muscles she found along the way. She didn’t stop until her hand rested on the buckle of his belt, less than an inch away from his cock.

  His hands tightened on her ass and she released a soft sigh.

  “You know what you’re doing?”

  She nodded, though she wasn’t so sure anymore. Originally, she’d thought she was seducing him. Now it felt like he was seducing her. And she was responding to it.

  He left one hand on her ass as he lifted the other to the side of her neck. He lightly ran one fingertip along the neckline of her top. The shirt dipped low, revealing a healthy amount of cleavage. Macie had taken one look at her when she’d arrived at the party and wolf-whistled at what she’d jokingly referred to as Lacy’s hootchie-mama shirt.

  Logan paused when he hit the cleavage. “Nice shirt.”

  For the first time in her life, it felt like Logan was looking at her.

  And really seeing her.

  Reaching up, she grasped the hand still hovering above her breast and pressed his palm against it. She didn’t have a clue where she’d found the outright boldness, but opportunities like this had been too few and far between. She couldn’t run the risk of Logan finding another girlfriend and moving her in for three long-ass years before she took her shot.

  He squeezed her breast roughly. The touch sent a jolt of electricity along her spine and straight to her pussy.

  “Lacy,” he whispered, his hot breath sweet from the soda he’d been drinking. “I—”

  The song ended and another couple jostled against them as they left the dance floor. It forced them to break apart before he could finish his statement.

  Rather than continue, he grasped her hand and led her back to the table. Mercifully, Evan hadn’t returned. God only knew what her brother would have done if he’d caught sight of her and Logan fondling each other on the dance floor not three minutes after he’d reminded them of the bro code.

  The waitress was at the table with their bill. Logan handed her his credit card. She resumed her seat, her legs still unsteady. It had only been a dance, but it had shaken Lacy to the core. She’d had sex before and she’d certainly experienced desire, but what she felt now seemed eons away from mere want. She was ravenous, predatory. Her whole body ached with a need so intense it took her breath away.

  She searched for something to say, but her brain wouldn’t function. Words wouldn’t form.

  Evan returned before she could gather her wits. “Hey, I gotta run. Eryn’s got a fever.”

  “Is she okay?” Lacy asked, concerned about her adorable little niece.

  “She was tugging at her ears earlier, so Annie thinks it’s probably an ear infection. We’re out of baby Tylenol and Annie asked me to pick some up on my way home. I need to get going. Do you mind driving Lacy home, Logan?”

  Logan shook his head, but it seemed pretty clear that he wasn’t exactly pleased by the prospect. “Not at all. I’ll take her. You need to get home to your baby.”

  Logan’s chilly expression went through her like a bucket of cold water. While his body had responded to her—and really, what guy’s body didn’t react when a woman threw herself at him?—it was obvious he didn’t want to be alone with her.

  Unfortunately, she was stuck without a car. She’d ridden to the party with Amanda and Brandi, but had elected to stay when Evan said he’d drop her off.

  “Great. I’ll catch you guys later,” Evan said as he passed the waitress on her way back to the table.

  “I can call a cab,” she offered.

  “Don’t be silly.” Logan signed the credit card slip, and then gestured toward the exit. “You ready?”

  She nodded, draping the sweater she’d brought with her over her arm as they stood to leave. It was early spring in Texas, which meant warm days and chilly nights. When Logan placed his hand against her lower back lightly, she knew she wouldn’t need the extra layer for warmth. He’d lit a fire inside of her that was going to take a few rounds with her vibrator to smother.

  He helped her into his truck, the door panel plastered with the Grady Furniture logo, before circling to the driver’s side.

  She hadn’t spoken a word to him since leaving the dance floor. Lacy feared she’d open her mouth and beg him to fuck her—right here, right now—in the parking lot of Cruisers. So she kept her lips pressed shut. Clearly he wasn’t interested in following through on what they’d begun on the dance floor.

  Logan fiddled with the radio as he turned onto the highway and stopped when he found a country station.

  “Haven’t heard this one in ages,” he said as Glen Campbell’s “Gentle on my Mind” played.

  She loved the song too and tried to concentrate on the music, but all she could think about was Logan’s hand on her ass, on her breast.

  He lived in a studio apartment above his shop on Main Street, wh
ile she had a smaller place three streets over. For the past few years, she hadn’t lived or worked more than a mile away from him. They saw each other almost daily, simply because they occupied the same small space and shared similar friends and interests. And while she fantasized about him a little bit too much, for so many years she’d never indulged the idea that they’d have anything more than a platonic relationship because, number one, he had been dating Jane, and number two, that stupid bro code thing was apparently still in effect.

  Lacy had just about convinced herself that her actions on the dance floor had been ill-advised when Logan pulled up in front of her apartment building, parked and turned the truck off.

  In fact, she opened her mouth to apologize to him for sending the mixed signals and for coming on so strong.

  However, the words “I’m sorry” never came. Because the second her lips parted, Logan covered them with his own.

  * * *

  Five years earlier…

  “Lacy? What the hell are you doing?”

  “Walking home.” She was still in a fury, and not even Logan’s arrival was enough to calm her down.

  He pulled over to the side of the road in front of her. “Get in the truck,” he called out through the open passenger window.

  “I’ll get the seat wet.”

  “I don’t give a damn about that. Get in.”

  She climbed into the front seat of his truck and gratefully accepted the jacket he handed her. Until that moment, her rage had been keeping her warm, helping her ignore the cold rain. Now that she was inside, she was struggling not to shiver.

  “It’s pissing down, getting darker by the minute and you’re two miles out of town. I almost didn’t see you. How the hell did you get out here?”

  “I was on a date.”

  Logan hadn’t put the truck back in drive. Hadn’t bothered to start moving again. “A date?”

  “With Bucky Largent. We got in a fight on the way home and I told him to let me out of the car. He did.”

  “That fucking asshole.”