Sophie shot him a questioning look and pantomimed hanging up a phone.
“What about the integration plans,” another board member asked.
Logan closed his eyes and shook his head. “What about them?”
While the discussion moved on to the intricacies of aligning the target’s operations with theirs, he watched Sophie stroll lazily to the bed and snuggle under the covers. Every cell in his body longed to climb into bed and snuggle up with her. There was something seriously fucked up about his work-life balance when the only time he could find to have sex with the woman of his dreams was during a conference call.
“Logan, what are your thoughts about production synergies?”
The question pulled his attention reluctantly back to the call. He tucked himself back into his pants, swiveled his chair until he faced his laptop and opened a file. “Well, Steve, if you look at the spreadsheet we sent over earlier today…”
Twenty minutes later he closed Excel and pushed back from the desk. “Any other questions?”
“No,” the chairman responded. “I think we’re ready to vote. Can I get a motion to approve the acquisition we’ve discussed, under the terms and conditions of the proposed agreements?”
Logan sighed his relief as someone made the motion, another board member seconded, and the board unanimously approved the deal. A surge of triumph swept through him, and he turned in his chair. From the corner of his eye he caught sight of Sophie, snuggled into his bed, one leg drawn up, face buried in the pillow. She’d kicked the covers off somewhere along the line, and now presented him with an uninterrupted view of her graceful back and lush, round backside.
He wanted her. He needed her. Hell, he was falling in love with her. And if he didn’t make some changes, she was going to slip right through his fingers.
“Congratulations, Logan,” the chairman of the board said. “Is there anything else we can do for you tonight?”
“Yeah,” he heard himself reply, as he stared at Sophie. “I need to redefine my role at Defy Gravity.”
…
Sophie woke to the bone-dissolving sensation of a tongue sliding down her spine. Her eyes popped open when the nimble trespasser reached the end of the line and showed no signs of stopping. With a squeak, she pushed herself up on her arms and flipped over.
Logan looked up at her, one eyebrow cocked and the groove she adored so much flirting by his mouth. “How about a good-morning kiss?”
“Let me brush my teeth fir—oh!” Ready or not, he lowered his head and kissed her good morning—a very good morning—in a place she’d never dream of putting toothpaste. “Never…mind,” she managed, and let her head drop down on the pillow. When he kissed her again, she arched off the mattress. Her head lolled to the side…and she caught sight of the clock on the nightstand.
“Ohmigod! That can’t be the time.” She sat up, which brought an abrupt end to the good-morning kisses and a not-so-subtle pang of regret from the parts Logan had been lavishing with attention.
He frowned and made a move to recapture her hips. “We’ve got hours. The wedding isn’t until this afternoon.” Then he aimed another illicit smile her way. “Besides, I only need another five minutes to finish wishing you a good morning.”
“I don’t have five minutes.” She climbed off the bed and hurried over to the desk where he’d placed her underwear on top of his folded laptop. “I’m supposed to be downstairs in three minutes,” she explained, while shimmying into her panties, “to meet the girls for breakfast and then head to the bridal suite to start getting ready. I still have to go back to my room, shower…stuff.”
“Jesus, are you serious?” He got up and followed her. “How long can it possibly take to put on a dress?”
“It’s not just putting on a dress. There’s hair and makeup. And then we have to get Kady ready. Plus pictures. Dang it, I can’t believe I’m late.” She pulled her bra on, and then reached behind her to deal with the clasp, only to find he’d beaten her to the chore.
“Thanks.” She turned and scanned the room for her dress.
“I hung it in the closet. Hold on. I’ll get it and walk you back to your room.” She tried to stop herself from fidgeting where she stood as she watched him stride to the closet wearing nothing but a pair of white boxer briefs that made her want to sink her teeth into his butt. Down girl.
He pulled on a pair of jeans and shrugged into a white button-down shirt, and then came back with her dress over his arm. Thanks to his shirt being unbuttoned, he gave her a glimpse of a whole new selection of highly biteable places. Later. You can lick him up one side and down the other after the wedding. Maybe find a quiet, secluded spot at the reception.
Something of her thoughts might have showed on her face, because when she turned to slip her arms into the dress he held open for her, he kissed her neck and murmured, “You’ve certainly changed from the girl I met when I first got here.”
“H-how so?” Because I’ve turned into a nymphomaniac where you’re concerned?
“At first, you were looking for any excuse to avoid the planned activities—especially the wedding. Now, here you are, raring to go.”
His observation made her pause in the process of tying her dress. “I guess you’re right.” No guessing involved. She was looking forward to it—all of it: primping with the girls, standing at the front of the church watching Colt and Kady pledge their love to each other. She was really looking forward to the reception, and the possibility of grabbing a private, naughty moment with him. Frankly, her earlier trepidation about everything seemed stupid and self-centered.
He finished buttoning his shirt and kissed her again, a quick, knee-weakening possession of her mouth, and then led her out the door. “I’m glad. Even if it means you’re blowing me off to spend hours with a bunch of girls rather than staying put and
letting me wish you good morning properly.”