“I- I’m sorry, but I have to call you back in a minute,” She manages to gasp out, before hanging up and dropping the phone to the floor. “Fuck, Logan!” She moans, pressing her hands against the glass in front of her and crying out as she pushes back against my tongue and my finger.
And all it take is five more seconds of my tongue sliding over her hard little nub and my finger curling against that spot inside before she’s turning her head to bite her own shoulder. Her muffled moans come ragged against the sleeve of her blouse as I push her over the edge, and she comes in shuddering, exploding elegance against my tongue.
Her hair is loosed from the normally conservative bun atop her head and cascades over her face as she closes her eyes and sucks in breaths of air, but I’m already standing and tearing at my belt buckle. I’m rock hard as my pants hit the ground, and as I slip the head of my cock against her opening, I lean over her to whisper into her ear. “You can go ahead and call them back in a minute, darlin, but something tells me it’s going to be a bit longer than that.”
And it damn well is.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Logan
“So, you two seem like you’re fitting together nicely.”
I almost choke on my steak as I quickly glance up across the table at Hudson. He’s grinning at me, but I’m certain it’s more of a ‘I told you so’ look than a ‘hey buddy, I know you’re fucking Quinn’ look. He’s also not jumping over the table to murder me with his salad fork, so that’s a pretty good indication of choice number one.
Of course, that doesn’t mean my pulse isn’t pounding like a fucking racehorse now. Yeah, dinner out with Hudson and Reagan, and Quinn was probably not a great plan. I’m sure this has double-date written all over it to anyone else in the restaurant, or our waiter for that matter, and that simple fact has me on wild edge right now. Fooling around like teenagers all over town and in the office is one thing, but playing couple out in public has this strange sort of serious undertone to it that has me more confused than it should.
And then there’s also something about the way that Reagan’s curious gaze keeps lingering a little longer on me than necessary. I know she’s no idiot. Even if she doesn’t explicitly know - and I’m pretty sure she does - she pretty obviously has a good idea. I’ll grant though that she probably hasn’t said anything to Hudson yet or he’d have tossed me out a window already.
The thought of that actually pisses me off a little bit. Here I am sneaking around with this girl like it’s a big damn taboo thing, when he’s up and married another of the Old Man’s daughters. But he and Reagan look so fucking happy, and hell, he broke whatever rules we had first. ‘Protect them’. I mean I don’t think William exactly meant ‘don’t date my daughters’ with those words, but I seriously doubt he’d be impressed with a roughneck grunt like me fooling around with Quinn like this. It’s different with Hudson and Reagan. Hud’s learned to deal with his shit, instead of like me who just hides it.
My cellphone buzzes in my pocket, and as I take it out and glance at it, I’m suddenly reminded of exactly what I’m hiding. Reminded like a slug to the gut.
I scowl at Javier’s text under the table, gritting my teeth. Fighting has always been a thrill to me. There’s this rush of pure reality when you connect, or even when someone connects with you. But now, fuck, now it’s just this thing I have to do. Like a jail sentence I just can’t get through. I’m over it, but it’s not over me, apparently.
I glance at the address on my screen - some shit-hole part of the South Bronx - and stand from the table as I clear my throat. “I, uh, I’ve gotta run and do something.”
Hudson frowns. “Aw, what the hell, man? We went over those shipping contracts all afternoon, we’re done with business for the day.” He shakes his head. “Sit your ass down and be normal.”
“It’s- uh, it’s a date actually.” I say, raking my hand through my hair and trying not to look as guilty as I feel.
“Oh!” Hudson looks up from his plate and grins at me. “Well, shit, get going then!”
Reagan’s eyes narrow at me. “Good for you, Logan.” She says dryly, and I swallow and clear my throat again uncomfortably. Yeah, she definitely knows.
I glance quickly at Quinn and see the frozen look on her face as she avoids my eyes and pushes food around her plate with her fork. She knows what this is.
“Uh, so, okay then. I’ll see you guys later on?” I force a casual smile out at the table, but my eyes keep darting back to Quinn, who still won’t look at me.