When Jessica had licked her glossy lips, Logan had immediately imagined that tongue performing the same slick move down between his legs.
“No kids and no husband.”
With that, Logan had known he would be joining the exclusive club, which had nothing to do with virgins.
“Yes,” he hissed out as his balls tightened and his ass cheeks clenched.
Wrapped firmly around his waist, Jessica’s leg strained against him, pulling him in closer, as her eyes widened above his palm covering her mouth. Then, her sweet, juicy muscles clutched his cock like a goddamn vise, and they both found it.
For the admission price of $543.90, they were inducted into the exclusive Mile High Club, and it was worth every last penny.
Part One
Recognition: Realization of an existing truth.
Chapter One
Monday evening, nine fifteen, and predictably, I’m still at work.
Sitting in his chair, Logan pushed up his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The office was quiet right now, and he knew he was the only one left on the floor.
This was the best part of the day. This was his part of the day. It was the time when he could unwind, drop all titles, proprieties, and appearances, and just be.
Standing, he cracked his neck from side to side as he loosened the blue tie from its perfect knot at the base of his throat. It was time to hit his usual spot for a quick drink before heading home. Picking up his briefcase, he walked to his office door, switched off the light, and made his way to the elevator. Waiting for it to arrive on his floor at Mitchell & Madison, he glanced around at his place of business.
Huh, who would have thought?
He and Cole had really made something of themselves. It was a bit of a shock, considering his wild college days, but as far as he was concerned, that was what college was for—to try a little of everything and everyone—and after…well, him, Logan had made sure to try everything.
Cole was always on him to think about settling down with someone. That would probably be a fucking stellar idea, but he wasn’t like Cole, who was well into his third year of wedlock.
Logan had no desire to bind himself to anyone, woman or man, especially when it was so much more exciting to take exactly what was offered. A city this large provided too many choices, and until the moment his cock only got hard for one person, he planned to use it to its full potential.
When the elevator doors opened, Logan got on with a single goal in mind—to have a drink.
A gin and tonic, and then life will pretty much be fine and dandy.
He had a successful job, a downtown condo, and an office located next door to his favorite bar. If he were an arrogant man—
Well, hell, who am I kidding? I’m one lucky son of a bitch.
* * *
Pushing through the double doors of After Hours, Logan left the cool night air and stepped into the cozy surroundings of his favorite hangout. As the familiar dimly lit interior invited him inside, he was reminded of why he loved coming here. It was the perfect place to sit, observe, and if he wanted to, hunt, and he could accomplish all of that without the constant harassment typically found at a pick-up joint.
Save those particular spots for the weekends.
He craved quiet after work, and maybe—
Oh yeah, he thought as a voluptuous brunette brushed by him, her breasts grazing his arm. Maybe a piece of that, too.
The dark secluded booths lining the sidewall were calling to him, but at the last minute, he changed his mind and bypassed several suits as he made his way up to the bar where he found a vacant stool at the end. He put his buzzing cell phone on the bar top and ignored the text from—
Ah, yes, L.A.-to-Chicago Jessica.
After placing his briefcase on the floor, he sat down and moved it between his feet, securing it there, while he waited for the bartender. Looking around at a few of the people mingling, Logan spotted an attractive woman standing farther down the bar. He was guessing she was in her early thirties. She was a petite redhead, dressed in a snug black jacket and a skirt that hugged her round ass as well as his hands would.
As she inclined her head in his direction, Logan spied the drink in her hand and decided he would send her a second one as soon as the damn bartender showed up. Afterward, maybe he’d take her up to his office and introduce her face to the top of his desk and her perky ass to his—
“What can I get you to drink tonight?”
Finally.
Logan turned his head toward the deep baritone who had just addressed him, and with the way his body reacted, he was thankful he was seated. The guy staring back at him, waiting for an answer, was fucking hot.
Clearing his throat, Logan reminded himself to keep this friendly. “A gin and tonic. Start a tab for me? Thanks.”
“Sure thing. Coming right up,” he told Logan before turning away to make his drink.