He smiled but didn’t raise his head. Instead he tried to nose his way into her robe, where the scent promised to be stronger. “Well, it’s not me.”
“I mean, it’s my perfume. It’s got”—her voice trailed off as he kissed the sliver of skin revealed between the folds of her robe—“uh, vanilla, I think, and sugar, or maybe honey. I’m not sure. It’s new.”
“Hmm. Did you spray some here?” He licked the soft skin between her breasts. Her sharp inhale had his cock twitching.
“Y-yes.”
“Nice. Here, too?” He dipped his head and brushed his lips over her fluttering abdomen.
“No. I, ah…oh gracious…” She paused and swallowed audibly when he grazed his teeth over the yielding flesh.
“Really? The scent seems stronger here.”
“I sprayed the places I thought you might have your nose closest to. My neck, my chest, and my…um…well…”
“Sophie?” He slipped his hand into the folds of her robe and wriggled his way between her knees.
“What?” The single word came out pitchy as he slid his fingertips along her smooth skin of her inner thigh, closing in on the apex.
“Did you spray…here?” But before he could reach the spot in question, a familiar, insistent vibrating noise went off right by his ear. It took him a moment to realize it came from her.
“Oops. I totally forgot.” She pulled his phone out of the pocket of her robe and offered it to him. “This was on the counter in the bathroom. I think someone’s been trying to get a hold of you.”
A reckless, rebellious part of him wanted to chuck the damn thing off the balcony, but the responsible CEO inside him tamped down the urge. Instead he took the slim white device and looked at the screen.
Twelve voicemails. Fifty-seven emails, and bonus, the chairman of the board was texting him like a thirteen-year-old girl alone at the mall. For fuck’s sake, had the world gone to hell in a handbasket while he’d been enjoying the most gratifying wake-up call he’d had in God only knew how long?
The headache he’d warded off last night crept back and all traces of his hard-on disappeared. He dropped the phone onto the bed, rubbed his temple, and stood.
“Problem?” she asked quietly as she took a step back. She didn’t sound nervous now. Only concerned.
“Apparently.” He exhaled, rubbed the back of his neck where a knot of tension formed, and glanced at her. “I’m sorry, Sophie, but I have to go. There’s something important going down at work, and I need to return some calls right away.” Jesus, he sounded like a self-important jerk.
She took another step back and re-secured the tie on her robe. “Oh, well, sure. I understand. Will I, or, that is, will we see you at the scavenger hunt this afternoon?”
“Yes. Definitely,” he said with more confidence than he felt, and then strode into the bathroom where he’d hung his wet clothes last night. “But I might be a few minutes late. Will you tell Colt and Kady I’ll be along as soon as I can?” He hung the robe on the hook behind the door, grabbed his briefs off the shower rod and pulled them on, grimacing at the still-damp cotton. Thankfully, he’d only be in them long enough to get a new room key from the front desk.
“Of course. Don’t you want to shower or anything?”
“No time.” He hauled on his shorts, and then pulled his shirt over his head. “I’ve got to get going.”
“Okay.” She stepped aside as he headed out of the bathroom. “I guess I’ll see you later.”
He stopped at the door, turned and looked her in the eye. “Count on it.”
…
Sophie was late. Her shower had taken longer than she’d planned, because she’d kept imagining Logan in there with her, running his soap-slick hands over her. Washing her breasts…thoroughly…before moving around to her back, sending sudsy trails down her spine, over her butt, and then sliding those talented hands along her stomach and between her legs. At some point she’d closed her eyes and entered the world of make-believe, where her hands became his. Her body had bought into the fantasy—hook, line, and sinker. It had helped alleviate some of the frustration brought on by his sudden, incredibly disappointing departure. Some, but not all.
“Sophie?”
Surprise jolted through her body at the sound of a low, male voice calling her name, and she nearly stumbled over her own feet. She took a moment to push her extremely embarrassing shower thoughts out of her mind, and then turned and smiled at Tyler. She didn’t stop, but walked backward facing him, and forced a breezy note into her voice. “If it isn’t my future brother-in-law himself, in the flesh. You’re late.”
“So are you,” he pointed out, and took a bite of his blueberry muffin. Her mouth watered at the forbidden carb. “And you’re going to run into something if you don’t turn around.”
“Yes, father.” She rolled her eyes and spun around the right way, falling into step beside him. “I lost track of time. You?”
He grinned. “I kind of slept in.”