do a more
thorough check on him, keep him out of your apartment.”
Her lips compressed. Rowdy had gotten awfully good at giving
her orders—and expecting them to be obeyed. “Fine.” She wondered if Logan had
been sent home from work but didn’t dare ask Rowdy. He was surly enough already.
It never paid for her to tweak his temper. “Let me know if you find out anything
more.”
“Might take a few days, but I’ll be in touch.”
The connection died, and so did her good mood. She tossed aside
the phone and bounded out of bed. She had a lot to get done, so she might as
well get to it.
Going to her closet, she chose another drab, ugly outfit and
carried it into her small bathroom. Looking at herself in the mirror, she
touched her dull hair and even duller complexion.
She hated to face the truth, but Rowdy had a valid point.
Though he hadn’t come right out and said it, they both had to wonder what Logan
saw in her.
Easy sex? Accomplished.
So now what? More sex? For most of the men she’d known, it was
all about the conquest. Once they got what they wanted, they moved on to more
challenging territory.
For now, Logan was an enigma.
She’d shower, dress and get through her errands which, despite
what Rowdy said, included buying heavier drapes and blackout blinds for her
bedroom—just in case. It was bad enough that Logan had seen her treadmill.
She didn’t need him seeing anything else.
Being a woman of her word, she’d insist that dinner be at his
place tonight. And after dinner, maybe she’d be able to talk him into round
two.
Letting out a long sigh, she cooled the temp on her shower and
stepped in.
She knew better than to hope for too much; nothing in her life
had really changed. She still lived a lie, and she needed to remain in
isolation.
But she couldn’t seem to stop herself from reaching for this
one pleasure.
Her very restrictive existence suddenly looked brighter. For
the first time in a long time she had reason to anticipate the day.
Given half a chance, she’d thank Logan for that—in the limited
ways left to her.
* * *
W ITH HIS CELL PHONE on speaker, Logan paced his
small living room and stewed. His hand ached, but he deserved it. Luckily, it
was his left he’d injured, not his gun hand. He could shoot adequately with his
left, but he had improved aim with his right.
Even luckier—depending on your point of view—it wasn’t an
uncommon accident to have happen on the job site. While he’d cursed a blue
streak, the other workers had laughed at him, proof positive that they’d seen it
happen before.
Dash had remembered not to single him out with concern and had,
in fact, chewed his ass for being careless, as he would do with any worker.
But now he’d have a few days off work, and that’d fuck with his
cover and his control. He needed to stay busy, to keep his thoughts
occupied.
What the hell was Pepper Yates hiding under those hand-me-down
clothes?
What didn’t she want him to see? To touch?
Men were simple creatures, women not so much. They always
wanted physical attention during sex. Hell, they needed it to get off.
Not Pepper.
He could still feel her sliding down his shaft, at first so
slowly that she’d made him nuts, then taking him deep. And he could still feel
the way her body had tightened around him during her climax.
A climax she’d reached with little help from him.
All while dressed. Without a single seductive stroke of his
fingers.
Or his tongue.
He hadn’t seduced her, hadn’t incited her.
He hadn’t done anything except supply a dick and then react to
her lead. It burned his ass big-time that he felt used.
It burned him even more that he wanted her to want more.
Reese finally picked up on the fourth ring and said with
irritation, “Anything wrong?”
His mood gave Logan pause. “Not really, no.”
Reese cursed. “Then this better be good.”
“Am I interrupting something?”
“Actually, yeah, you are.”
Logan grinned. “New
thorough check on him, keep him out of your apartment.”
Her lips compressed. Rowdy had gotten awfully good at giving
her orders—and expecting them to be obeyed. “Fine.” She wondered if Logan had
been sent home from work but didn’t dare ask Rowdy. He was surly enough already.
It never paid for her to tweak his temper. “Let me know if you find out anything
more.”
“Might take a few days, but I’ll be in touch.”
The connection died, and so did her good mood. She tossed aside
the phone and bounded out of bed. She had a lot to get done, so she might as
well get to it.
Going to her closet, she chose another drab, ugly outfit and
carried it into her small bathroom. Looking at herself in the mirror, she
touched her dull hair and even duller complexion.
She hated to face the truth, but Rowdy had a valid point.
Though he hadn’t come right out and said it, they both had to wonder what Logan
saw in her.
Easy sex? Accomplished.
So now what? More sex? For most of the men she’d known, it was
all about the conquest. Once they got what they wanted, they moved on to more
challenging territory.
For now, Logan was an enigma.
She’d shower, dress and get through her errands which, despite
what Rowdy said, included buying heavier drapes and blackout blinds for her
bedroom—just in case. It was bad enough that Logan had seen her treadmill.
She didn’t need him seeing anything else.
Being a woman of her word, she’d insist that dinner be at his
place tonight. And after dinner, maybe she’d be able to talk him into round
two.
Letting out a long sigh, she cooled the temp on her shower and
stepped in.
She knew better than to hope for too much; nothing in her life
had really changed. She still lived a lie, and she needed to remain in
isolation.
But she couldn’t seem to stop herself from reaching for this
one pleasure.
Her very restrictive existence suddenly looked brighter. For
the first time in a long time she had reason to anticipate the day.
Given half a chance, she’d thank Logan for that—in the limited
ways left to her.
* * *
W ITH HIS CELL PHONE on speaker, Logan paced his
small living room and stewed. His hand ached, but he deserved it. Luckily, it
was his left he’d injured, not his gun hand. He could shoot adequately with his
left, but he had improved aim with his right.
Even luckier—depending on your point of view—it wasn’t an
uncommon accident to have happen on the job site. While he’d cursed a blue
streak, the other workers had laughed at him, proof positive that they’d seen it
happen before.
Dash had remembered not to single him out with concern and had,
in fact, chewed his ass for being careless, as he would do with any worker.
But now he’d have a few days off work, and that’d fuck with his
cover and his control. He needed to stay busy, to keep his thoughts
occupied.
What the hell was Pepper Yates hiding under those hand-me-down
clothes?
What didn’t she want him to see? To touch?
Men were simple creatures, women not so much. They always
wanted physical attention during sex. Hell, they needed it to get off.
Not Pepper.
He could still feel her sliding down his shaft, at first so
slowly that she’d made him nuts, then taking him deep. And he could still feel
the way her body had tightened around him during her climax.
A climax she’d reached with little help from him.
All while dressed. Without a single seductive stroke of his
fingers.
Or his tongue.
He hadn’t seduced her, hadn’t incited her.
He hadn’t done anything except supply a dick and then react to
her lead. It burned his ass big-time that he felt used.
It burned him even more that he wanted her to want more.
Reese finally picked up on the fourth ring and said with
irritation, “Anything wrong?”
His mood gave Logan pause. “Not really, no.”
Reese cursed. “Then this better be good.”
“Am I interrupting something?”
“Actually, yeah, you are.”
Logan grinned. “New
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