Big Girl Panties

by Stephanie Evanovich

  “It wasn’t you” was all he told her, not going any farther by way of explanation. “I should be saying I’m sorry. And I am.”

  Holly smiled up at him. He didn’t need to explain anything. He was all over her like a cheap suit and it was heavenly. It was hard to think of anything besides it. Whatever happened, he would tell her when he was ready. He was there and apologetic and that was enough for her. “It’s okay.”

  “I-I took some antihistamines; I think I may have had a reaction to them,” he stammered, knowing he had no right to her ready acceptance of his apology.

  “Histamine rage,” she said in agreement, nodding. “Makes perfect sense to me.”

  He gave her a quick kiss before standing them both up straight. “I have to get to work.”

  She walked him to his car, which was parked several rows away. They said nothing but intentionally kept playfully bumping into each other. When they reached it, he opened the door and turned back to her. “What are you doing tonight?”

  “Waiting for you,” she told him happily.

  “My last client is at seven. I know that doesn’t leave much time, but maybe a movie or something?”

  “Netflix awaits,” she said.

  “No,” he told her. “I want to take you out. I would suggest catching the end of the Kings game, but I know I need to have you home before you turn into a pumpkin.”

  Holly grinned again. “No worries there. I don’t have a job anymore.”

  Logan’s look of surprise was followed by one of barely contained joy. “You quit your job?”

  Her grin grew wider and she glanced back at the building. “Sort of. I gave them my two weeks’ notice and they promptly fired me. Seems they don’t handle rejection very well in there. They did tell me I could remain a member though. I may do that. I met some really nice people. Guess I liked people more than I thought.”

  Logan’s joy was short-lived as he realized his actions may have been what motivated her. “Oh my God, Holly, please tell me this didn’t have anything to do with my foolishness.”

  “Oh hell no.” Holly was quick to set him at ease, a coy smile forming on her lips. “I realized weeks ago that it was never going to work. I was getting tired of falling asleep on your shoulder at seven thirty every night, instead of in your arms.”

  “Be ready by eight.” He kissed her before sliding into the driver’s seat. “Tonight we celebrate.”

  Chapter Twenty

  They started dating, with Logan slowly integrating Holly into his life. And not much actually changed. They did a lot of going out with Amanda and Chase. There were charity parties, sporting events, concerts. She slipped into the man cave without him even noticing. Logan accepted every invitation in his attempt to show his newly minted status as taken. At first, Holly was shy, intimidated by the stares of the people Logan introduced her to. Logan suffered from bouts of momentary discomfort as well. He felt defensive and at times troublingly unsure when running into an ex, all long and blond, and seeing the ex’s intrigued if not amused reaction as he introduced his pudgy cherub. Some of his friends and business associates weren’t always so discreet about covering up their double takes.

  But when Logan and Holly were alone, he was confident about his choice. She willingly went along with whatever he chose to make important, even if his choice was time alone, which had become less and less frequent, as the sex with her was still so much fun. Hell, everything attached to Holly was fun, because even the most mundane things to him were brand new to her and she embraced them fully. Still, he felt guilty for his spurts of nagging doubt.

  “Hey, do you have an extra toothbrush I can borrow?” Logan asked as he entered the bathroom one evening, exhaling into his cupped hand and then bringing it up to his nose for an improvised bad-breath test. Holly was standing in front of one of the sinks, staring at herself in the mirror. He could tell with one glance at her mirrored reflection that she was troubled. “What’s the matter?”

  She immediately came clean. “Nothing. Everything. I can’t do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “I can’t go to this party. I can’t go to this party with you.”

  “Why not? It’s a party. They’re supposed to be fun. You suddenly have something against fun?”

  “Sure. Fun for you. Look at you. You’re gorgeous. Look at me. People will wonder what the hell I’m blackmailing you with.”

  Logan laughed while sneaking up behind her, wrapping his arms around her, and resting his chin on top of her head. “Stop being ridiculous, you’re beautiful.”

  She looked at them in the mirror and tried to get the words past the lump in her throat. “No, Logan. You’re beautiful. I’m so completely not.”

  Logan straightened back up and grabbed her shoulders, then turned her around to face him. When she kept her eyes cast downward, he crooked his finger under her chin and lifted it, insisting she bring her eyes back up to his, and asked gently, “Holly, this isn’t like you. The whole insecurity bit. What’s this really about?”

  She stared into his warm brown eyes and struggled to find her voice. She had never lied to him and wasn’t about to start now.

  The words tumbled forth. “You think I don’t see the differences in us? You think I don’t see the way people look at us? Like I don’t deserve you? I don’t really mind so much when we’re out in the general public. In fact, it’s flattering in a demented sort of way. But tonight is all about the beautiful people’s club otherwise known as your world.”

  Logan was momentarily taken aback. So, she had tapped into his innermost feelings. The ones he wasn’t proud of, the ones he thought he had successfully repressed, the very ones that had crossed his mind just an hour before. Tonight would be different. Tonight wasn’t about a charity function; it was about the hottest ticket in town, and everyone who was anyone was sure to be in attendance. Tonight, with Holly on his arm, he would be making a statement, loud and clear, that he had never made before. She was so astute, so in tune with him, whether he wanted her to be or not. It wasn’t that she wasn’t worthy, just that she wasn’t what he was used to. Which in turn meant that all the people he knew weren’t used to her either. They would adjust, he was sure. She was so damn cute, standing before him in her pink cashmere sweater and modest black wraparound skirt. How could he possibly explain that it wasn’t about her, but about his own growth?

  He spoke evenly, his words measured. “Holly. I thought I had always been clear. It’s not about the package, but about the whole package. You are easily the smartest, wittiest, most sincere person I know. Not to mention adorable and positively delectable.” He placed his hands on both sides of her head and tilted her face up to him. He unhurriedly lowered his lips onto hers, effectively silencing any further retort or complaint.

  After he felt her tension give way and her hands creep around his waist, he opened his mouth, probing the warm recesses of hers. His hands moved down her back to cup each of her buttocks and with one motion, he lifted and deposited her onto the wide vanity that ran the length of the bathroom wall. The loud thud and subsequent creak of the suspended marble trying to support her weight stopped them both in their tracks. Logan pulled back and saw her eyes grow wide and fill with tears of mortification.

  “This thing is used to some Softsoap and a hair dryer sitting on it. Don’t even go there,” he told her gruffly, quickly kissing her again. Holding back the tears as well as the emotion that was behind them, she rested her hands on his shoulders and tried to focus on his warm lips, which were demanding her attention. His fingers drifted to her knees and began to pull at the hemline of her skirt until most of her leg was fully exposed. He leaned forward more, pushing, until her back was fully against the mirrored wall before his lips made their way down to her faintly perfumed neck, his hands wandering inside her skirt. He leisurely toyed with the elastic rim of her panties while she ran her hands through his hair and then stopped when he wedged his finger inside them to purposefully slide into her. She moaned with
desire at the intrusion, dropping her hands, fully disposing of any lingering thoughts about anything except the feeling of his hand. He deliberately rubbed, moisture joining friction, and she spread her legs farther apart.

  He suddenly withdrew, pulled her legs forward, and lifted the skirt to the middle of her full thighs. He reached beneath the now-bunched-up material, stuck his hand under her bottom, and insistently pulled at her panties. She wriggled and soon they were freed. He finished pulling them off and let them fall carelessly to the floor. He went down onto his knees and, bringing her legs forward, drew her closer to the edge of the vanity. He stuck his head beneath her skirt. The stark contrast of the cold marble against the skin on the back of her legs and his warm breath at her center was foreign and fantastic. When his lips touched the soft folds of her, she braced her hands against the marble and shifted to give him better access.

  “Oh, Logan,” she breathed, feeling an embarrassment of a totally different kind, which she quickly abandoned as she began to throb. His tongue sensually danced around her core, his hands determinedly at her hips to hold her in place. He greedily licked and nipped and sucked, and all the while she squirmed and ground herself against him until he felt her start to clench, and his mouth was wet with her. She moaned, deep and guttural, and he pulled away, unwilling to let her climax without him. He quickly stood and pulled her off the vanity, and they both fumbled with his belt in a race to free the raging erection from his pants. She unzipped him and he hastily removed them and his boxer briefs, not willing to waste any more time than necessary before taking her. He dropped to the floor, bringing her down with him, and lay on his back. Holly lifted her skirt, straddled him, and with his help, guided herself onto him.

  “Yes, baby, yes,” he groaned, filling her, and reached under her sweater, not taking the time to remove her bra and instead pushing it up to massage handfuls of breasts. He circled his thumb around taut nipples and she joined him with a groan of her own. She pulled the encumbering sweater and bra up over her head and tossed them into the neighboring bedroom, desperate to feel his hands all over her.

  She rode with him deep inside her, his thick hard sex stretching her, passing all of her sensitive spots. Her rhythm sped up, matched by his pelvis moving in opposition, nearly removing himself from her, only to vigorously fill her again. His hands left her breasts to grab her roughly at the hips and hold her while he took over and glided her up and down. It was a torture that was both relentless and exquisite. Holly threw her head back and gave herself over to his torment. Before long, she felt the familiar tingle that would soon leave her breathless, the tiny tingle that would suddenly explode into an uncontrollable fit of tremors. She surrendered, unable to do anything more than say his name over and over, more pleading and gasping with each repetition. It was music to his ears and he quickened his pace just a fraction more, his own release looming. He felt her stiffen above him and then she began to writhe in orgasmic spasms. He drove in one final time before shuddering into her.

  She collapsed onto him and Logan held her tight, right on the bathroom floor.

  “Let’s get this party over with,” she purred. “So we can get back here and do this again.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It was the Kings’ extravagant end-of-season party, being thrown at an exclusive uptown hot spot. Invitations were even more sought after than usual after the team’s World Series win. Logan and Holly were already at the aptly named Bases Loaded when Amanda and her MVP husband arrived. The club was crawling with people, some Holly had met before, but most of them new faces. As Chase and Logan mingled dutifully with fans and clients, Amanda settled close by Holly’s side and pointed out the famous and the infamous.

  Holly and Amanda stationed themselves at a bar along the back wall. The perfect spot, Amanda called it; they could see everyone and they were close to the drinks. Holly spied Logan across the room, head cocked in conversation, eyes narrowed in concentration. She didn’t think she would ever tire of watching him from afar.

  “Hi, Holly.” She heard the voice in her left ear and turned.

  “Hi, Troy.” She smiled at Troy Miller before saying, “Congratulations on a great season.”

  “Thanks.” He smiled shyly back. “It’s my first championship. It feels pretty good. I saw you at game three.”

  “You did?” Holly asked, surprised. She had met him several times but never thought it was memorable to either of them.

  “Yeah,” Troy said quietly, toying nervously with the straw in his glass. “I was going to talk to you afterward, but you got out of there pretty fast.”

  It was true; she had left right after that game. Logan had a six o’clock the next morning and they had made a hasty departure.

  “Sorry I missed you,” she told him, thinking it was the right thing to say.

  “I was hoping you would be here tonight. Are you having a good time?” Troy asked politely, taking a sip of his drink.

  “I am,” Holly replied. “I mean we just got here a few minutes ago, but so far so good.”

  “Just wait. A few hours from now things should start to get interesting.” He laughed.

  “Are you trying to warn me about something?” She joined him with a giggle. “Should I be looking for you under a lampshade?”

  “Not me,” he rushed to tell her. “Club soda here. Been a twelve-stepper for the last four years. These are the kinds of nights I can’t wait to be over.”

  You and me both, Holly thought.

  “Still, it will be nice to have a little time off,” Troy said. “I’m a Southern boy and by October, I’m usually longing for home, even if it is only for a few months.”

  “Not to mention you get to escape the cold winters here,” Holly added. “I thought I recognized your twang.”

  “Is it that bad?” He chuckled.

  “Not at all,” she told him honestly. “Hadn’t you heard? Most girls find Southern accents irresistible.”

  “I’ll try to remember that.” He smiled.

  “The whole being-a-baseball-player thing probably isn’t hurting you either,” Holly teased.

  Troy hesitated a moment, gathering his nerve. He took another sip of his drink, then asked, “I was wondering, though, if before I left, maybe you would like to join me for dinner one night.”

  Holly blinked, taking a quick look around. Was he talking to her? She looked back and figured that he was by the way his gaze remained on her; he was obviously waiting for her answer.

  “I’m sorry, Troy. I guess you didn’t know. I’m seeing Logan,” she told him gently.

  His look of surprise was palpable. “Logan Montgomery?”

  Holly didn’t know whether to feel flattered or offended. “I guess you hadn’t heard.”

  Troy tried to recover from his error but still looked shocked by her statement. “No. I hadn’t.”

  Holly couldn’t help feeling defensive. “It’s sort of new.”

  “I understand,” he told her quickly, embarrassed. “I really should’ve known. I’m sorry if I offended you with my invitation. But listen, if it doesn’t work out, my offer stands. I’m here till the end of the month. You can get my number from Amanda.”

  “Thanks,” Holly said stiffly. Obviously Troy wasn’t seeing Holly’s relationship with Logan as long-term. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to deal with that attitude and she realized she would probably never get used to it. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Troy promptly excused himself and walked away, leaving Holly to stare after him.

  While the exchange between Holly and Troy was taking place, Amanda was craning her neck in their direction to nonchalantly get a better listen. She congratulated herself on her ability to bring people together. It was apparent that if things hadn’t turned out with Logan and Holly, Troy would have been the correct choice. She was scanning the room when in her peripheral vision she caught sight of potential trouble. A group of three women were clustered together, a trio of Versace wearers on the prowl. A
t the center was Natalie Kimball, Logan’s last serious girlfriend. They’d lasted four months at the most. As soon as Natalie caught sight of her, she broke away from her friends and floated up beside Amanda in all her supermodel glory, flaxen mane flowing, lips perfectly glossed, fingernails as long as her arms. She ordered a drink.

  “Hi, Amanda. Another year, another party.”

  “Nice to see you again, Natalie.” Amanda tensed. If Natalie was going out of her way to say hello, Amanda was pretty sure what would follow. “I heard you were in California awhile.”

  “I was. I don’t stay long. I get in and get out. It’s too weird out there,” Natalie replied, then got right to the point. “I thought I saw Logan when I got here.”

  Amanda had a choice to make. Natalie was not your average bimbo. She hadn’t been happy when Logan called her bluff and ended the relationship. Too proud to try reconciliation on her own, she’d called Amanda for days on end in the hopes of getting Amanda to plead her case, something that Amanda politely but steadfastly refused to do. The calls finally ceased and Amanda made a mental note to never again give her cell phone number to any of Logan’s women. And for a while, Natalie remained persistently in the background, readily available, as she waited for Logan to come to his senses. And then he fell for Holly, the kind of woman who could make someone like Natalie go ballistic.

  Amanda glanced over to Holly, taking note of her exchange with Troy. She wondered whether she should even introduce Holly and Natalie. The better plan would be to get Natalie’s questions answered so that Natalie would move on. If Logan was unfortunate enough to encounter her, he could deal with her himself.

  “He’s here somewhere,” Amanda replied casually.

  Natalie didn’t waste any more time on formalities. “Rumor has it he settled on one of his protégées. She with him?”