“Oh fuck, yes,” she whimpers. Her hands reach out as if to grab me, but I move, standing completely and stepping away. It hurts. My body repels the space. Despises it. But I have to. I have to keep my head, even if it fucking kills me.
“Then tell me, Shiloh.”
Realization washes over her, and I swear, she looks seconds from releasing a toddler-level tantrum in response.
Me too, Babydoll, me too.
Ten minutes later, I’m ready to commit murder on behalf of my girl. How dare her fucking piece of shit landlord force her to live like that? Fuck no. Not on my watch.
“Get up, get showered, and get ready. You have twenty minutes.”
Turning my back, I storm from the breakroom, leaving a wide-eyed and very confused Shiloh shouting behind me.
I have to walk away before I do something that I won’t be able to take back. Something insane, like forcing her to give up her shitty rental and move in with me or demand her landlord’s information so I can go kill him.
No one fucks over Shiloh Huxley. No one.
Chapter Eight
Idon’tknowwhyI listen to his demands, but I do. Less than fifteen minutes later, I’m dragging a pair of leggings up my thighs as I attempt to avoid Porkchop’s judgmental stare.
“What are you looking at?” I grunt, jumping in an attempt to get the tight material over my ass. I have to do thebend and wigglea few times, which is hands down the most unattractive move a human being can make, all the while praying Logan doesn’t bust into his office where I’m getting ready.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” I tell her emphatically, tugging my long sleeve t-shirt over my head. It’s fresh from the dryer and clings to my stomach uncomfortably. I pull the material away from my body and tuck my elbow into the front, stretching the cotton to its limits before releasing it. The shirt glides down my body in a much less restrictive way that allows the length in the back to cover my ass.
I may never look like one of those cute tiny girls on Pinterest, wearing their circle scarves, slouchy sweaters, Lulu’s, and Hunters, but my ass sure looks phenomenal in these leggings.
Porkchop tilts her head to the side and stares at me. I know it’s impossible, but I swear I hear her scoff at my statement. I wouldn’t blame her if she did. We both know I’m a dirty little liar.
Waking up to Logan Huxley all up in my face this morning was the single most confusing experience of my life. Confusing, because while it was embarrassing as hell that I basically marked him like a cat, and whispered his name in my sleep, having him that close to me was incredible. At that moment, I was thankful for my panic as it gave me an excuse to gain some distance before I’d done something stupid.
Like, kiss him.
And I so would have. He’s just sobeautiful.His green eyes and freckles are even more mesmerizing up close. His red curly hair and wild beard are rugged and manly, eliciting visions of him chopping down wood in a forest shirtless, quickly followed by me dropping to my knees to take care ofhiswood, if you know what I mean.
Porkchop makes another chuffing noise as if to say,everyone knows what you mean, idiot.I glare at her. She’s so rude sometimes.
As I yank my boots over my thick socks, I wonder for the hundredth time what the hell is going on. I feel like I woke up in an alternate universe. I went to bed feeling as though my world was crumbling to bits and woke up with Logan staring down at me, whispering words likeI’m here,and calling meBabydoll.A shiver races up my spine at the memory. I like that name. A lot.
I don’t think anything in the world could wash away the memory of what happened next. As if to agree, my still aching, wet pussy throbs. I’ve been turned on since the day I met Logan Huxley and haven’t stopped since. At this point, I’m pretty sure my vagina is trying to kill me. If I lose any more blood flow from my brain that has redirected itself to my clit, I’ll need a transfusion.
Would he have really done it? All those things he was threatening?Makeme tell him by using his tongue, fingers, and….shit!
I cross my legs, squeezing my thighs together in an effort to get some relief. I should have taken care of myself in the shower, but I was too consumed with thoughts and questions to focus. Before I knew it, I’d already been standing under the water for over ten minutes and needed to rush.
I’m definitely regretting that decision now.
“You ready?” Logan grunts, pushing the office door open. Jumping up, I turn, throwing a withering glare in his direction.
“I could have been naked!” I snap, even as a wave of arousal pools low in my belly at the thought. What would he have done? It’s obvious he’s attracted to me, and wants me on some level, even if it is just sexual. Is that all I want from him?
Logan grants me a rare smile as he prowls into the office. “I think I would have liked to see that,” he mumbles, coming to stop in front of me. My neck cranes back, meeting his heated gaze. “There’s always later, though.”
“Later,” I murmur, my voice a little breathless.
He nods, his smile widening. “Later, Babydoll. We have to go, now.”
“Go where?” I ask absently, unable to pull my eyes from his. I want to count his freckles. Explore his body and find out if they cover his skin. I want to lick every single one of them. Does he have tattoos? Piercings? Does the red hair cover his chest or his—