“Now I understand why you can’t keep your hands off me. It’s a proximity thing.”
“It’s not a proximity thing.” He snorted. “If I wanted sex I could get sex. I could walk out the door and bring a woman back in less than an hour if I wanted.”
Sad thing was he was right.
“So why haven’t you?” She really couldn’t figure it out. If he was the total playboy he was made out to be, he would be out there. But he wasn’t, was he?
He wasn’t that total playboy at all.
Somehow that thought didn’t make her feel any more comfortable. She didn’t want to have to revise her opinion of him.
But she already had.
“I haven’t felt like it,” he said.
She snorted. “You’re a guy. And you want it.” She sent him a look as she grabbed some things from her bag and marched into the bathroom. “What you like more than anything is a challenge.”
She bolted the door and showered for a really long time, whipping up her resistance. She was not giving in. Not falling for him. Not letting him win that easily.
She was not feeling for him, because the guy had a shocking relationship with his parents—she wasn’t bonding with him over that.
Finally, she emerged. Ready.
He was sprawled in the middle of the bed on his stomach, swiping his iPad. He glanced up, and froze. “Nice… pajamas?”
“Thanks.” She beamed at him. “It’s a onesie. Good for winter.”
“It’s something a baby wears, right?”
Exactly. You couldn’t get anything less sexy than this over-sized gray number.
“So all I have to do is slide that zipper right down and you’re naked, that right?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re n-n-not getting the chance.”
“Oh, okay.” he nodded. “Not tonight.”
“No.” She ignored the little stab in her heart at his easy acceptance. “Can I borrow your iPad?”
“Sure. I’ll go shower.”
He took almost as long as she had. She worked on the iPad the whole time, ensuring her accounts were as up to date as she could make them. Spent forever pre-loading tweets and comments.
She ran her fingers across her forehead. Hot. She frowned as she felt her damp skin. She was literally hot.
Logan finally emerged from the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel and a smile that revealed an evil sense of humor.
“Did you p-p-put more wood on the fire?” Somehow the bastard had turned up the heating in the room. She was sure of it.
“There’s a thermostat for heating, the fire is more for the look of it.”
Yeah, she’d known it. “You like to turn it up, don’t you?”
“I like to sleep naked, but I’ll wear some boxers so you’re not embarrassed,” he smiled. Turning away from her he dropped the towel.
OMG. He was buck naked and bending to reach for his boxers. His body was gleaming and taut and so, so fit.
Min sat up, forgetting her work. Forgetting everything but the sight before her.
Long, strong legs. Tight, muscled butt. Broad bone structure overlaid with toned muscle. Honed masculine perfection.
He pulled up the white cotton and snapped the waistband low round his hips. Then he turned and sat on the bed beside her, she felt his hip pressing against her thigh. He leaned in close, smiling in a wickedly conspiratorial way.
“Would you like me to have every kind of sex with you tonight, babe?” He braced his hands either side of her. “Gonna beg for me?”
“G-g-go away.”
“I’m being a considerate fiancé. All I want to do is tend to my beloved’s carnal needs.”
“You’re being a tease.”
He laughed, all challenge. “Not half the tease you are.”
Ouch. “You only want me because you can’t stand it that I won’t give in easily.”
“No. I want you because you’re gorgeous. And funny. You want me too. The problem is you don’t like me.”
Actually he was wrong about that.
She shook out her hands, suddenly tense. She should have brought a portable keyboard.
“Here.” He leaned back and took her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over her wrists.
“It’s okay, th-th-thanks.” She pulled her hands free.
He didn’t need to know how hard her pulse was pounding.
He suddenly smiled, the challenge fading from his eyes. “Come on, get into bed properly. You need sleep. So do I.”
She wriggled over to the far side of the wide mattress and stared at his stretched out boxers as he lay down beside her. He was huge. “How can you sleep like that?”
“On my back.” He chuckled and flicked out the light. “And I think about you. All the things I’m going to do to you to make you pay for this discomfort.”
“Oh.”
In the darkness his amusement was like a warm, living thing. So was her arousal.
“The answer to both of our problems is in your hands,” he said.
“So to speak.”
“So speak, Min. Beg for me and I’m yours.”
She rolled away to face the wall and said nothing. It wasn’t her throat, but her heart that had tightened this time. Even if she did beg, he’d never truly be hers.
Chapter Fifteen
#MorningGlory
Logan didn’t sleep on his back. He barely slept at all. He hated being in this house. It stifled him. They all expected him to do something irresponsible—he could see the disappointment in his mother’s eyes. The disapproval in his father’s. The uncertainty in Connor’s even.
But he wasn’t going to. He was going to occupy himself with Min. Be good with them, be bad with her. It was perfect, right? Balance.
He reached for the remote and adjusted the curtains so a bar of light entered the room. He didn’t like it so dark that he couldn’t see her. The pre-dawn light lifted the blinding gloom. He turned to his side to face her. So still, so pretty.
And so hot.
He liked only a sheet covering him but she’d thrown off even that light cotton covering. And she’d undone the zipper of that hideous suit. The zipper ran all the way down her sternum, to below her belly button so now, not unlike the strip letting light in between the curtains, he could see a strip of her skin.
She shifted suddenly, rolling towards him. Part of her sleep-suit was caught beneath her. That strip widened. He could see the curve of her soft breast.
>
Very nice.
Jeez he was hard.
She sighed, a long, decidedly sexy sigh, and he saw her hips shift again. And that breast? Her nipple had stiffened. She moved again, a small rocking of her hips.
Logan’s cock grew harder still while the rest of him froze. Was his prim fiancée having a sexy dream? All hot and restless? He could help her out. All she had to do was ask.
He reached out, gently stroking straight down her center with the very tip of his index finger. Her whole body was hot. Yet despite her heat she snuggled closer, hooking her lower leg around his.
Not so indifferent really.
“Good morning Min,” he teased.
“Shhhh.”
He smiled but she kept her eyes firmly shut. And her mouth.
He touched her more, tracing his fingers down that exposed path. Hell, she really was hot. And as his fingers skated below her navel, she moved, rocking her hips more firmly, more regularly.
“I know you’re awake,” he said quietly, he wasn’t going to let her get away with pretending otherwise. “We both know this isn’t a dream.”
“Then try to do your w-worst,” she whispered.
How could he resist? He loved the feel of her, the silken heat. Loved the way she moved, responding to every touch. So quick. So hot.
So he pleased her. Pleased himself.
Both hands. He explored, pulling the onesie apart so he could lick down her sternum, rub his jaw against her breast, circle his tongue around her nipple.
So soft yet so stiff. And so sweet.
Her hips lifted, driving her mound harder against him. He ran his fingers lower, her juices slickened them. If that wasn’t a yes, he didn’t know what was.
How could he not take as much of that breast as he could into his mouth? How could he not keep rubbing the swollen little nub jutting hard into his thumb? How could he stop when she colored so beautifully, when sweat dampened her hair, when she closed her eyes tight, her body scrunched up in ecstasy. But he didn’t slide his fingers inside her. Not one, two or the three he wanted to slide and scissor inside her. Even though he ached to feel her ride him, to clench on him, try to hold him inside—she wasn’t getting it all so easy.