Lauren bent and grabbed her purse and Logan stood to his feet, frowning. "You're wearing that?"
Lauren glanced down and looked at herself. She wore a red blouse with the shoulders cut out, black shorts and stilettos. She glanced back up. "Too slutty?" She watched his intent stare and had to smile. "It's conservative slutty. I'll have you know these are lined, linen shorts."
He didn't comment and Lauren received the impression that he couldn't. She almost laughed; she'd never even remotely seen him speechless before.
His eyes continued to run over her and when he didn't speak, she said, "We're going to a dance club. I'm twenty-five years old and you know what they say: you're only young once. I'm going to be among friends and besides, I'm sure you wouldn't let any harm come to me, right?"
His gaze slid back to hers and examined her thoroughly. His look became territorial and Lauren was hit with the same shaky feeling she always got when he was this close to her. Butterflies started fluttering in her stomach and her knees weakened. He walked forward with a purpose and picked up a lock of her hair and twirled it around his finger until he stopped at her scalp. She felt the tug on her hair center all the way to the juncture between her thighs. "Did I just hear you correctly?" The words rattled from his throat in a brusque, possessive tone. "Did you just grant me the right to be the man who protects you?"
Lauren's heart began beating viciously in her chest. She heard his question through a roaring in her ears. Her remark had been off-handed. She hadn't really meant anything serious with her question, so why was he taking it so seriously and why did she think this was suddenly a pivotal moment in their relationship? She tried to think, tried to get her brain to work.
She licked her lips and tried to put the ball back in his court. "Do you . . . do you want to be that man?"
His answer was a silent one. A glimmer of heat exploded in his eyes and he began nodding his head, slowly, up and down. With one hand wrapped around her hair, his other hand snaked up and wrapped around her cheek and lifted her face to his.
He bent down and kissed her, quickly but firmly.
He raised his head. "Okay. It's a done deal."
The look in his eyes was scaring her shitless. Scaring her shitless and exciting the living crap out of her all at the same time. Her mother had never told her that there were men like this one living on the planet. Nobody had ever warned her. "Okay, yeah, but--" she began.
He cut her off. "No buts."
Lauren was excited and nervous and panicky. "Yeah, there's a 'but'."
"And what would that be?" he questioned slowly and succinctly, only seeming to be humoring her.
"I guess this means we're . . . exclusive--" she began, but he cut her off again.
"Damn right," he breathed out in a possessive hiss.
"Okay, so it's just you and me, but that doesn't mean . . . "
"Doesn't mean what?" he questioned shortly, obviously wanting no conditions on the relationship whatsoever.
She narrowed her eyes and gathered her nerves together. "It doesn't mean that you make the rules. You need to understand that going in. You're not the boss of me, you don't tell me what to do, what to wear, or what time I have to be home. We're together, but we're not married or anything like that, and I'm all grown-up and have been for some time and I make my own rules."
His eyes impaled hers but Lauren could tell he was listening to her mandate carefully and strategically. Damn him! She'd been right! It had been a strategy all along! And suddenly she knew that whether she'd given him an opening or not, he'd planned on having a confrontation with her tonight about . . . boundaries. And she'd played into his hands with that statement about him not letting her come to any harm. She really needed to watch what she said around this man.
His hands stayed plastered to her skull, and his body filled with a tension that was palpable. "All right, I agree," he answered in a voice that reflected his mercurial mood. "We're not married and I don't own you. You're a big girl and can live by your own rules, for now. All I'm going to say is one thing: You called it. We're together." His hand left her face and slid down and cupped the heat between her legs firmly and aggressively. "And this is mine." His fingers tightened. "Nobody fucks you but me, and if somebody lays so much as a finger on a single strand of your hair, they'll wish they were dead."
Lauren's jaw dropped and she couldn't seem to close her mouth as he stared down at her.
"You got that, babe?" He hissed out while his hand between her legs enclosed her in an unyielding grasp.
Lauren sucked in a ragged breath and nodded her head, too stunned to speak. Son of a bitch.
She'd just released the Kraken.
The very minute that they walked into the darkened club and found Lauren's friends, Logan knew he would have to pull off the biggest con job of his life. If he could con Lauren into thinking he was having fun and that he was as calm as shit, she'd never know that his insides were tied into knots and that he was actually running on a surge of adrenalin.
Her friends, whom he thought would be women, definitely included men. There were more women, true, and one in particular named Heidi who Logan focused on. This was the chick who wanted Lauren to start sleeping around and having 'fun'. It was enough to make him grit his teeth, but not enough to set him on the warpath.
Oh, no.
That was left to a couple of douche bags who Lauren introduced as John and Nico. Both were men she worked with, and Logan quickly realized it was this John fucker who she'd gone out of town with. The bastard just had to be single, tall and fit, and wouldn't you just fucking know it, had goddamn eyes for Lauren. The guy could not keep his fucking eyes off of Lauren.
And of course, being the birthday girl, she was passed from one set of arms to the next and kisses and goddamn touches were plastered all over her.
Logan stood back and felt his temperature soar. His back teeth were clenched so tightly that his jaw was aching.
He knew that he needed to calm the fuck down, because Lauren had been looking at him like he was Attila the Hun ever since they'd left her apartment. One little innuendo about killing anyone who touched her, and she'd started looking at him as if he was crazy. Her eyes kept darting sideways at him, almost like she was sizing him up, and he knew she was speculating on his possible sanity or lack thereof. He needed to get his jealousy under control and he needed to do it now.
He took a stabilizing breath.
He could never let her find out how fucking jealous he was.
As the night wore on, Lauren watched Logan from below her lashes. He seemed to be handling everything okay. He was laughing and joking with her girlfriends, and he was almost pleasant to John and Nico, who Heidi had insisted on inviting.
But there was just something about Logan's demeanor that Lauren didn't believe. It seemed almost contrived, although she couldn't exactly put her finger on why. She realized that by bringing him here, putting him among all her friends and co-workers, that she was putting him to the test.
She really liked Logan, cared for him deeply already. He was amazing, actually astounding, in bed. He made her insides quiver and the thought of breaking up with him made her extremely sad, upset if the truth were told.
But they had to be able to get along; they had to be able to have a social life that included other people. But this was all so new, and he was so very, very intense.
Yeah, intense. That was the word.
He needed to tone that shit down if he expected this relationship to mature into something more.
And holy crap, wouldn't that be amazing? To experience that sexual chemistry all the time? To have that hunk of man-meat hanging over her in bed for the unending future?
Yeah, she wanted that. If he could just tone it down a bit.
She had to be able to keep her identity, to be her own person. It was way, way too soon to start giving into him.
If she gave in too soon, he'd control her faster than the blink of an eye.
Logan thought he was doing exceptionally fucking well until the John fucker asked Lauren to dance and without even giving him a heads up, she took the fucker's hand and went to the dance floor with him.
When she stood to her feet and walked off, his temples began throbbing and tension filled his muscles.
The song was a fast one, but it was almost over and by the time they got to the dance floor, the music had turned slow. Logan fisted his hands and cracked his knuckles under the table and waited, not knowing what he was going to do or if he could even control his reactions. When she went into the motherfucker's arms and began dancing with him, Logan saw red and began counting.
Exactly how many goddamn weeks had Logan been sleeping with her? Was it too fucking soon? Could he reasonably go over there and put his fist in that motherfucker's face and then drag her ass out of here and take her home and explain exactly how the fuck it would be from then on?
Logan kept his eyes glued on her and could see that Lauren was watching him in return. She was dancing with the other guy, but she was watching him. And then, like a bolt of lightning, he knew. This was a fucking test. She was testing him to see if he could keep his ass in his seat and not cause a fucking scene.
Goddamnit. He wanted to beat the living shit out of the guy. Nothing, absolutely nothing, would please him more.
He took five deep breaths and slowly began counting to ten, and then to fifty. Could he make it through the dance? He wasn't even going to think about whether or not she was going to dance with the dude again. Even in his brain, he couldn't go there yet. One fucking thing at a time.