by Piper Lawson
"So, tell her to fuck off."
Kendall rolls her eyes. "Her head would explode."
"Collateral damage."
"In what? My war on perfect moms?"
"Your quest for personal awesomeness."
Her smile hits me squarely in the chest. “I can’t. I know it’s prideful, but I need to win this.”
I turn that over. “Prideful. That’s not a word you hear that often.”
“Pride’s a sin.”
“So are a lot of things, if you believe all that. Lust’s another. How’d you square with that?”
“My faith is more fluid than that. I believe in God. But I also believe in the principles more than the words. I don’t need to read scripture every week to find myself—or to find Him. I try to be the kind of person I want to be. And on the days I’m not, I think about how I can be better.”
That makes so much damn sense I envy her. Another sin, I guess, but I’ve stopped counting or caring. “What can I do to help?”
Her eyebrows lift.
“I’m serious. Ask me for help. With this, with anything.”
Her eyes widen a degree, and she licks her lips, but I’m dead serious. I don’t think I’ve ever said that to a woman. The only reason I do is because I know she won’t take advantage.
Or maybe I want her to. I want her to want something from me because I want to give it to her.
“Buy fifty tickets for Rory’s talent show.”
“Done.”
She blinks. “I was joking.”
“I wasn’t. I’ll buy fifty seats and fill ‘em with anyone you want. Actors. Models. Philanthropists. Ventriloquists.” A laugh bubbles out of her, and I can’t help smiling. “I’m serious. There’s a lot I’d do for you.”
Her gaze searches mine. “Thank you. But I can’t ask you to buy fifty tickets for my son’s school event.”
I step closer, forcing her to tilt her chin up to meet my gaze and bringing our hips together. “You could ask me to buy one.”
Silence stretches between us.
She's standing just out of reach. Not literally. In the space between us, between who she is and who I am. I don't know how to bridge it, but I also realize that I want to.
I want it like nothing I can remember wanting.
Her eyes drift to half-mast. "Logan… I don’t know what’s going on here.”
“Sure, you do. It’s a story as old as time.” I run a finger down her bare arm until the hairs stand up. “Boy meets girl.”
My lips graze her ear, and she shivers.
“Boy begs girl to sell sex toys for him.”
Her half laugh ends on a sharp inhale as I skim my lips across her jaw.
“Boy gets to know girl. Finds himself inexplicably addicted to girl. And girl’s kid’s scones.”
I kiss her again. Her low moan is different from the first time because I know her now. I like her. I crave her. Not in the way you want something you've never had, but in the way you want something you can't get enough of.
She reaches for my face, but I grab her hips. I spin her and press her against my kitchen island. “What I don’t know is where the girl’s at.”
“She’s not a girl,” Kendall whispers. “She’s a woman. And she has responsibilities.”
"Semantics," I mutter against her throat. “Don’t avoid the question.”
Kendall doesn't move except toward me, pressing her hips against mine and flashing those dark hazel eyes at me. “I like you, Logan,” she confesses under her breath. “Okay? I like your smile and your sense of humor and the way you take care of your family business even when you don’t want to. I like your hands and everything you do with them. I like your creativity, especially when you use it to make my son happy.”
My pulse is thrumming, and I don’t know if it’s from her touch or her words.
“I like that you don’t apologize for who you are. And even though it feels wrong… I really, really like your tongue ring,” she confesses against my mouth.
“Thank fuck.” I yank her shirt over her head, dropping it on the floor. "Because as long as we're working together, I'm going to come thinking of you. And it’s more fun if we do it together."
I work her pants down, revealing a black lace thong that matches her bra and has me biting back a groan.
New plan, I decide as I shift her up on the island. She tries to move the papers out of the way and succeeds in sending several sheets drifting through the air before they settle on my kitchen floor.
“The first two times you caught me by surprise. No more. You want the Logan Way?” I reach back and drag my shirt over my head, taking my sweet time because her rough exhale is so delightful, before tossing it on the floor with the papers. Her eyes devour my chest, my abs, before I finish. “You’re going to have to ask nicely.”
Her lips curve at the corners, a flush in her cheeks. “But you put me up here.”
“So I did.” I feign ignorance, and her mouth parts in surprise. “Maybe it had something to do with this.”
I turn my attention to her breasts in the black bra. She squirms under my inspection, letting out a little pant when I drag a finger over the curve of her breast.
“No, can’t be that. Maybe here.” I trace a finger over the lace, circling her nipple and watching it harden under my touch. “No. That wasn’t it either.”
“Logan…”
“Yes?” My hand stills as I meet her gaze.
She bites her lip, deciding how long she’ll go along with this. “Nothing.”
I shrug as if I couldn’t care less. As if my cock isn’t rock hard in these sweatpants.
The truth is I fucking love it. I didn’t know there was anything sexier than Kendall getting herself off, than Kendall unable to contain her need and fucking me in the back of a town car.
There is, and it’s Kendall playing this game with me.
My finger trails down her smooth stomach, the little curve before I reach her panties. Her breath hitches when I dip a finger under the edge. Not far enough to make her moan.
“This could’ve been it. What do you think, Peach?”
Kendall cocks her head, eyes bright. “Maybe.”
Christ. I hope this is teasing her half as much as it’s teasing me.
When I stroke a finger over the lace panties, then drag them to the side so I can see every part of her bare on the island, I have my answer. “Sweetheart?”
“Yes?”
“You’re dripping on my granite.”
Her face goes red, her eyes wide as I brush my fingers over her there.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” I threaten, bringing my fingertips to my lips and sucking her off me while her fingers dig into my shoulder. “You taste too fucking good for that.”
“Logan…”
Satisfaction works through me as the lightest sting of nails hits my skin.
“Come on, my wild little peach.” I press a hot kiss to her neck, dragging my tongue ring in the way that makes her pant. “Say you want it and I’ll reward you.”
Kendall’s hips rock against the air before her breathy words come.
“It can’t be that good.”
I pull back, blinking.
Wrong thing to say.
I drag my free hand down her stomach slower, closer to where she’s bare.
“Did I tell you about the time I went skydiving in Bolivia?” I say absently.
She shakes her head.
“It was on my to-do list forever, but I almost didn’t go because we were running behind on a shoot and I had twelve hours before catching another flight.”
When my finger reaches where she’s wet, I skip over her clit and stroke her folds.
Featherlight. As soon as I’m there, I’m gone.
“I decided to go anyway. I got the training. Geared up. We got to ten thousand feet.”
Again.
“Twelve thousand.”
Again.
“Fourteen thousand.”
Until the b
ite of her nails in my shoulder is a constant, her panting the soundtrack to this sexy game.
“I had this idea of what it’d be like. But when I jumped out of that plane, when my skin came apart from my organs and my brain floated, weightless, while the atmosphere rushed by, I realized something.”
The thong’s pulled tight over her hips, leaving lines in her skin.
I don’t care.
If she does, she knows how to end this.
All I want is to devour her, then fuck her until she can’t stand, but I force myself to look at her face.
She’s flushed, those hazel eyes dazed, those lips parted and shaking.
“You can’t know how something feels until you’ve experienced it.”
Damn if she’s not getting wetter every second. I can’t resist dragging my finger up over her clit to feel her shake.
“And the people who think they know when they don’t?”
I graze my teeth along her ear.
“I feel sorry for them.”
Her gaze works over mine. “Yes.”
“So, tell me. What do you want, Peach?”
“I want your mouth, Logan,” she whispers. “I’ve dreamed of it.”
I almost come in my pants.
I drop down her body, tired of this game I started, and pull on her thong hard enough she whimpers. But I lower my face between her thighs, inhaling her perfect scent before I taste her.
I give her my tongue.
My lips.
My teeth.
When she bucks, I give her my fingers too.
When she’s writhing on the granite, I suck on her skin.
When she comes, it’s fucking glorious. Her hands in my hair, digging into my scalp. My name on her lips as she’s wrecked and shaking around me.
I shift up her body, satisfied by the color in her cheeks, the twin desire and pleasure in her eyes. The way her pulse thrums in her pale neck. I drop my lips to hers, and she stiffens at the taste. I hold her there, my fingers pressing into the nape of her neck until she gives in.
“I wanna come in you so bad,” I murmur against her lips, losing myself in her scent.
“That sounds nice,” she murmurs.
I grin as I slip a finger back inside her. Her head falls back, her eyes drifting shut on a sigh of pleasure that makes me feel like a king.
I want to be her king, I realize. I want to take her places she's never been.
I shift her gently off the island and turn her so she’s leaning on it. Then I strip the wrecked panties down her legs.
I retrieve a condom with the one percent of my attention that’s not thinking about how good she looks, how good she’s gonna feel, how good I’m gonna feel. I love games, but there’s no more screwing around.
"How’d reality compare to the fantasy?" I grind out the words as I rip into the package and work the condom down my cock.
"Not everything’s a contest," she manages.
One hand holds her hip, steadying her.
I take a moment to admire the view from behind before I press inside her.
"But if it was…" I brush a piece of hair behind my ear, knowing she can’t see my grin. Then I twist her ponytail lightly around my hand as I sink inside her, deep enough we both groan. "We’d win."
Her flushed hands flex uselessly on the counter as she squeezes around me, gasping for breath as she adjusts to the feel of my cock.
I choose the rhythm, but soon she's backing up on me. Our skin slaps together, and I reach around to flick her clit so she gasps, her thighs clenching. She falls off the edge, repeating my name, and I follow her over, my release barreling down my spine.
As we recover, panting and sweaty, I wonder when this changed from me setting out to show her something to her blowing my mind.
Because somehow it’s not her first jump.
It’s mine.
18
"I have it!" a masculine voice calls from the doorway of Closer.
Daisy emerges from her office. "Have what?"
I glance up from my desk. Ben’s standing in the foyer, shoulders square and chin lifted as if he conquered a continent. "The secret to the universe."
My boss snorts. "Doubtful."
Ben looks wholly unperturbed as he catches my eye, a flash of smugness in that expression. "We did one more iteration on the coding. It does everything you wanted, Kendall."
It clicks. "You mean the vibrator?"
I shift out of my seat and cross to him, Rena rising to watch from her desk too.
Ben holds out a small box. I open it, staring at the vibrator inside. "It looks the same."
"How wrong you are.” His low chuckle has me glancing up. “This baby not only learns what modes you use and optimizes over time, but it calibrates based on time of day. You can also add multiple user profiles, if you’re into that."
Daisy folds her arms and lifts her chin. "Does it do dry cleaning?"
"Silks and linens." He grins.
"Ben, this is great," I say, excited. I can't wait to tell Logan. If it's amazing, it'll make everything we've done worthwhile. He’ll be able to save his share in Hunter’s Cross, and I’ll get to pick my clients and send Rory to camp.
In truth, the past week and a half has passed in a blur. I’d almost forgotten we were waiting on this from Ben.
Mostly because I’m doing more than I’ve ever done, but it doesn’t feel stressful.
I still haven't done salsa or taken improv or learned origami. But I've been on fire at work, getting lots accomplished for my other clients.
I did take one thing off the “Do Me” list, as Logan calls it. "No fantasizing about hot strangers," has been replaced with "Be more sexually adventurous."
Because since I went to Hunter's apartment, we've been spending more time together. Mostly having sex.
Bad Kendall is out of the box, and she’s calling the shots—at least the ones where nakedness is involved.
And nakedness seems to be involved more often than I expected. I’ve seen Hunter every couple of days, usually under the guise of work. But most of that—bouncing ideas off of him or getting budget approvals—could happen over the phone.
The part where he makes me scream with that wicked mouth and his too-impressive-for-words body requires in-person visits.
But this update to the vibe? It gives me a legit reason to see Hunter. He’s going to be thrilled.
Ben lingers in the doorway, turning to face Daisy. "Come on. Don't I get a thank-you for this engineering masterpiece?"
She closes the distance between them, her heels clicking on the hardwood. When there’s barely a foot between them, she peers up at him. "Thank you, Benji."
He tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. "You got it."
Rena and I exchange a look.
“She says they haven’t dated,” I remind her under my breath.
Rena watches them, shaking her head slowly before pronouncing a single word. “Bullshit.”
"Mom? Where are we going?"
I lift my head from the paper shapes in front of me to see Rory in the living room in pajamas Saturday morning, staring at the bag by the door.
"Your grandparents’." We were planning to visit today anyway, but it’ll be extra special since it’s the first time since my mom’s fall. She seems to have made a full recovery, but she’s still due to go back for more tests next week.
"Do I have time to make breakfast?"
"Always."
He pads to the kitchen. It’s our deal that on the weekend, he doesn’t have to get dressed until after breakfast. I don’t either, so it works out both ways.
“You still think you’d like to see your dad today?” I ask lightly.
“Okay.”
I didn’t tell him his dad was “back” or that he’d bought a house next to Rory’s grandparents. I did say he was working near Orange and wanted to see Rory. Which is true and less likely to raise expectations.
Though I scrutinized my son’s reaction to the news, he hadn
’t seemed afraid or upset when I told him. It was more like when he learns we’re going to see his cousins at a holiday—a mild surprise followed by the kind of vague curiosity that accompanies novel things that aren’t Food Network related.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I let him know.
“It’s fine. I’ll tell him about my cooking.”
“I’m sure he’d like that. We’ll go visit him for a little while after we see Grandma and Grandpa.”
I want to tell Rory not to believe anything Blake says, but I don’t know how. I don’t want to color Rory’s view of his father with mine. But if my son isn’t anxious about seeing Blake, why should I be?
Because Rory’s not the only one he let down, a voice says. Blake promised you things too.
"I was working on this recipe for Logan." Rory’s voice pulls my attention back as he tugs on the fridge door. "It's with Gruyère. He said it goes with scout."
I cough. "Stout?"
He frowns, a carton of eggs in one hand and a half-empty gallon of milk in the other. “What’s stout?”
“A drink.”
“Like juice?”
I swallow the smile. “Sure.”
He goes about his work, and my mind drifts to thoughts of Logan.
The other day, I was so excited to show Logan the vibe from Ben. He’d seemed surprised to hear from me in the middle of the day, but he buzzed me up while he was still in the bathroom, giving me a few minutes to look around uninterrupted while he showered. I pored over his bookcases, looking at the books he’s collected, photos, things from around the world.
Lots of photos of him with family, with Monty, even with Nellie. He’s clearly well liked.
Some with women, which gave me a burn of jealousy in my throat.
I remind myself it’s possible to love everyone.
Everyone except the women in swimsuits on the boat with Logan, I decide charitably.
When he came out of the shower, wearing a towel and a grin, his hair still damp, I forgot about showing him the vibe and getting him to approve the changes.
Until he reminded me.