One Sizzling Night(11)
He turned the problem around and around, unable to come up with anything that made sense.
“Hey, what’s up, Logan?” Sam was all dressed up, which wasn’t the norm for her. She usually wore the computer geek special: jeans and a T-shirt.
“You going somewhere?”
“Yep. To a party. Where I intend to get drunk.”
“Well, good for you. That’ll show ’em.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “You called?”
“Did you ever talk to Kensey about me working in special operations?”
Sam shrugged. “Maybe. Although I think I only said military, but I can’t swear to that.”
“What about black ops?” He couldn’t imagine Sam saying anything like that. She didn’t know, but she had helped him blur his background, and she was too smart not to put two and two together.
“You mean did I— No. Why would I?”
“Okay. Never mind. I was just checking.”
“I’m pretty sure she’s who she claims to be, if that’s what’s got you worried.”
“I’m being overcautious.”
“More like paranoid.”
“Yeah, yeah. Listen. Would you turn off whatever the hell program it is that’s making me so damn horny? I mean I like the whole scent and colors thing, but—”
Sam burst out laughing. Really laughing.
“I’m serious.”
When Sam caught her breath she said, “I don’t have any such program. That’s all you.”
“Really?”
She wiped the bottoms of her eyes. “Damn you, Logan. I never wear makeup and now you have to make me...” She started laughing again. “Just try not to break anything in your rush to—”
He hung up. Adjusted himself in his jeans, then went to the kitchen. Kensey was bent over a drawer, and he hoped that she wouldn’t stand up any time soon. But she did. Then she went for an even lower drawer. He crossed his arms over his chest and enjoyed the view.
When she finally turned around she nearly jumped out of her skin. “Holy...how long have you been standing there?”
“Two drawers worth. What are you looking for?”
She paused, looking like a cornered animal. “The takeout menus—”
He nodded to the stack on the counter. “You already have them.”
“Fine.” Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes dilated. “I was looking for the manual.”
“For the apartment?” he asked, guessing she had the same problem as him.
When she couldn’t stop her gaze from checking his fly, and her hips moved in a way that had everything to do with sex, he crossed the distance between them and pulled her into the kiss he’d been holding on to from the moment he’d seen her.
She kissed him back. Deep and real and just messy enough to match the urgency that was coiling inside him like a rattler. It was everything he’d wanted, and as an added bonus, he’d just discovered that Ms. Cool wasn’t a very good liar.
6
“WAIT,” SHE SAID a split second before he crushed her mouth with his. She could feel his desperation, in the way he pulled her against him. Made her feel what she’d done to him.
In return, she gave as good as she got, thrusting into his hot mouth for every pulse of his erection against her low belly. Logan’s hand moved under her tank top and slid around to her back. Then he stroked her, moaning as he reached all the way to her neck before sliding down again.
Not that he missed a trick with his mouth. He kept up the barrage of thrusts and parries until she was breathless. The way her nipples hardened had nothing to do with the cold.
That hand, that wicked hand under her top moved to her front, and his moan when he cupped her flesh curled her toes. Seconds later, while she was still reveling in the feel of his large, rough hand, he pulled back. Before she could even show her displeasure, her tank was over her head and thrown somewhere in the real world.
In this world, Logan smiled as he bent down to suck on the nipple that had been hoping for more action.
As his thumb twirled one bud, he teased the other with a gentle rasp of teeth, then suction, then some masterful flicking that made her feel as if she might have already died and gone to heaven.
Letting go of him, she pulled on his dark blue button-down until the shirt was up under his pits, but she couldn’t do anything with it there. In fact, she couldn’t do anything but flail behind her until she found the countertop to balance herself as he switched nipples, evidently going for the gold.
Damn what he could do with his tongue. Holy crap. The flicking. The flicking! Just the very tip made her insane. Then, like a dragonfly, he moved from tip to tip, back and forth.
Finally, she gripped his shoulders and pulled him up until she could look him in the eyes. “Bedroom. Now.”
He seemed dazed. Completely unaware of how ridiculous he looked with his shirt bunched up so high he couldn’t put his arms down. She even pointed out the problem, but he just shrugged, and took her by the hand down the hallway to his bedroom.
She laughed the whole way.
He stopped at the bed, pulled down his shirt only to unbutton it in record time, and swiftly yanked down the covers.
God bless America, he was built like...like the men in her dreams. They all had his kind of body—muscled, but not misshapen, a subtle six pack, just enough hair that she could play with it during the cooldown after and a trim waist that led to a very impressive erection.
“This is the part where you take off your shorts. Unless you’d like me to—”
They hit the floor before he could finish.
He smiled. The kind of smile that changed his face. Made him look younger. Sexy as all get-out. “You’re gorgeous,” he said. The rough voice was new. Also sexy. “When you wore that dress last night? I...haven’t gotten over that yet.”
With a move she hadn’t expected, he lifted her bridal style, then laid her on the bed. Caveman Logan with that smoky voice? Different. A few miles more than good. It was as if she’d been sent back in time, to an age where her stomach was all butterflies and giggles were going to erupt if she didn’t do something soon.
He lifted her knees until her feet were flat on the mattress, her head resting on a pillow, and she waited breathlessly for what came next.
To say this wasn’t her typical style was a huge understatement. A part of her wanted to take the reigns from Logan and show him a thing or two, but that urge was overpowered by a feeling of freedom she hadn’t experienced in years.
“Lift,” he said, holding a pillow down by her butt. She did.
Perhaps she should tell him that while cunnilingus was great and all, she wasn’t all that into foreplay. But he seemed so intent.
He looked down at her, his eyes ablaze with desire. God, his nostrils flared. “Last night I wanted to stop you,” he said with that gravelly voice. “Make you stay.” He got on the bed and maneuvered himself neatly between her thighs. “Which is crazy, because I don’t usually react so...viscerally.”
Then he dropped to his hands and knees. His breath painted the insides of her thighs. She held perfectly still as he leaned in and kissed her gently, on her inner thigh, and then bit her.
Not hard. Just a little nip that made her start. Excited her. Even more exciting was when he licked the delicate skin where her thigh ended.
How had she not known that crease where her leg met her torso was an erogenous zone? It so was. At least when he licked her there, then blew warm air on the strip. Instead of reaching out and grabbing on to his hair, she gripped the bottom sheet.
He’d placed her so well she didn’t have to move at all to watch him. The way he looked—his need so raw—made her pulse climb through the roof. It was all there in the tiny smile that hadn’t gone away, even when he’d been arranging the pillows. In the black of his pupils, his lids at half-mast as his body prepared for pleasure.
A moment later, he was down too low for her to see his eyes. But she felt him at her already parted lips. He spread them and brushed his thumbs up and down. “So soft,” he whispered.
Before she could answer, two fingers went inside her. Deep.
She gasped and arched, ready for far more than fingers.
He laughed, a low chuckle that made her smile in return.
“I wish you could feel this the way I feel it,” he said. “I don’t think it’s possible, though. Sad, because I’m convinced there’s nothing in the world softer than a woman. And now I’ve just learned that not all women feel as good as you.”
She blushed. Why, she had no idea. It was a sweetly odd compliment. Something he couldn’t have gotten away with if he’d been younger. But the man was in his thirties, and he’d lived a great deal of life in those years. He wouldn’t bother with empty compliments.
“Christ,” he said, and a second later his tongue joined the party. Her back arched again and she might have ripped the sheet, but she didn’t give a damn because he was using his mad tongue skills where it counted.
No more gentle breaths and languid kisses. This was a full-on assault. The way he pushed his fingers inside her with exactly the right pressure to feel amazing while at the same time making her desperate for more? Jesus.
That tongue. She’d thought he’d been clever with her nipples, but he treated her to a range of sensations that stole her breath away, only to steal it again and again.