“No more games on my team members,” she says, frustrated.
“Only if she leaves me alone,” I tell her, watching her as she thinks that over.
“Nothing so morbid.”
I shrug, grinning. “I have a morbid sense of humor. And I’m territorial. At least I didn’t piss in the roses before sending them.”
She studies me; I grin at her.
“You’re so confusing, and I stupidly think you really do love him.”
“I do love him,” I tell her on a long sigh.
“Nice to know.” Logan’s voice has us both screeching, and Hadley actually drops to the floor.
Logan grins at her as she bounces back up to her feet. If he’s grinning, then he missed all the important bits about me being a killing psycho, right?
“How long have you been standing there?!” Hadley demands, looking every bit as guilty as a killer herself.
“Long enough to hear a confession I don’t think I was meant to hear,” he says, his smile turning into a smirk as he looks at me with heat in his eyes.
Yeah, he totally missed the part where I’m a killer. I need to be more cautious.
“Confession?” Hadley asks, all the color draining from her face.
This girl could never be a killer.
“Yeah,” Logan says, his attention focused on me as he stalks forward.
“Logan, this isn’t what it looks like. She—”
Her words thankfully die when Logan grabs me at the waist and pulls me to him, crushing his lips to mine. I almost climb up him, making it easier to kiss him without so many tiptoes and bending getting involved. Hadley makes a strangled sound, and I kiss Logan harder to distract him from the leaky sink she is.
No wonder the Boogeyman duct taped her mouth shut.
“Right,” Hadley says as Logan continues kissing me. “I’ll just go now.”
He doesn’t even acknowledge her as he kisses me harder, pushing me back against the window that overlooks the city. My mouth stays fused to his, needing this so much after the week of little face-to-face time.
“I’ve fucking missed you,” he says against my lips, still kissing me stupid.
I can’t even respond, because he doesn’t let me break my mouth apart to reciprocate. Instead, he starts tugging my pants down, pushing me harder against the glass.
My fingers find their happy place, digging into his hair, and I shudder in anticipation when he shoves my pants to the floor. Roughly, he breaks the kiss to tear my shirt over my head, as though he’s in a hurry to get me as naked as possible.
“I missed you too,” I say while I have the chance, but he’s all serious, and that heated gaze could scorch a lesser prepared woman.
He strips out of his clothes as I toss away my bra and shimmy out of my underwear. In the time it takes me to do that, he’s fully naked and lifting me so fast my breath catches.
My back hits the glass, and my legs go around his shoulders. My eyes screw shut when he puts his face right where I want it, and he latches on to that bundle of nerves he knows how to manipulate too well.
He’s more aggressive than usual, almost as though he’s punishing me, taking no mercy on me when I whimper and squirm and try to make him bald with my hold on his hair.
My head falls back against the glass as I cry out, already lost in sensation from the masterful mouth he owns. He drops me to the ground in a smooth motion, and spins me to face the glass.
My palms shoot up, catching me before I slam into it, and he lifts my lower half, lining it up so he can thrust in forcefully.
It feels too good, and he bends, kissing my neck with just as much roughness as he’s taking my body. “You should have told me first,” he says, giving me insight as to why this feels like an incredible punishment fuck.