by Roxie Spears
The thought only occurred to Emilie while she was getting ready for the date, that there were probably a dozen other women who dreamed of going out with Logan Bane. He was one of the most eligible bachelors of Quafin and there she was, going to dinner with him under the pretense of interrogating him. Basically. Emilie wasn’t sure she’d ever been to a more important dinner in her life.
That was why, when it came down to it, she felt an immense pressure on her shoulders. Half her closet had been thrown out onto her bed, she’d tried on and kicked off several pairs of shoes, and she had yet to touch her hair and makeup. Never before had she been one of the girls who didn’t have anything to wear!
“Come on, Emilie,” she said to herself, running her hands through her hair. “You’re being ridiculous.”
She took a deep breath in through her nose and exhaled, clearing her mind. She didn’t know why she was freaking out. After all, Logan Bane was just a guy. Admittedly, he was a really attractive guy who, until a few days ago, infuriated her, but he was still just a guy.
Thinking about that seemed to set her at ease and with time running out, she pulled herself together. She dug through the dresses on the bed and pulled out one of the first ones she’d tried on. It was a little black number with a lace neckline; it flared at the waist and showed off a fair amount of leg. She paired it with a pair of black wedges that had a comfortable heel. With her outfit chosen, she tended to her hair and makeup, keeping both soft. She tied her hair up, leaving two tendrils to frame her face delicately, and applied her makeup with a light hand. The only thing out of the ordinary was the lipstick she chose to wear. Emilie was drawn to the red tube on her dressing table, one that was practically full due to disuse, convinced that it was the right color to wear that night.
She’d barely managed to glide it over her lips when she heard the buzz of someone downstairs. Emilie gave her reflection one last glance, taking in the soft pink of her cheeks, the wide brown eyes staring back at her, and lips made fuller by the crimson on them. The pendant around her neck was the only piece of jewelry she owned, a heart-shaped locket with a picture of her mother concealed within. She felt ready.
It wasn’t the dark car with tinted windows that awaited her when she got downstairs. Instead, she was faced with the shiny sports car she’d first seen Logan drive, a red and ostentatious convertible. It looked as adventurous as the man standing beside it, dressed in a black on black suit. The look suited him, as did the clean shave and… was that a smile?
“Emilie,” Logan opened the passenger door for her. “You look ravishing.” His voice was deep and rich, but it was the sincerity that caught her off-guard.
“Thank you,” Emilie murmured. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
The smile grew wider and Emilie had to look away as she climbed into the car. He slid behind the wheel and the car purred to life. He met her eyes as he shifted into gear and then, his eyes flashing, he stepped down on the accelerator. The car leaped off down the street and this time there was no screech of tires against the tarmac. Emilie’s heart raced as she was thrown back into her seat. She felt like she was flying. A shot of adrenaline straight to the veins had her laughing as the wind blew through her hair. Still, as fun as it was, Emilie was glad she went overboard with the bobby pins. The sound of the car and the wind roaring in her ears didn’t make for a talkative trip, but Emilie didn’t mind. If this was how all dates started, she would have gone on more of them.
They stopped too quickly for her liking. She blamed the speed for that. This wasn’t a part of Quafin that she’d ever visited before. It was near the mayor’s house and the surrounding residential area was an upmarket one, in a suburban kind of way. However, the restaurant itself was anything but.
Logan climbed out of the car so fast that he appeared to be on the other side before Emilie got the chance to blink. She was left reeling and wondering if unnatural speed was a part of being a wolf shifter. If the strength she saw was anything to go by, it was the only logical answer. Whatever the reason, Emilie’s heart beat a little faster when she slipped her arm through the one Logan offered her. He led her into the building and smoothly slipped his keys into the hands of a young valet in a suit. As they walked through the doors, Emilie was glad she wore the black dress.
The restaurant was chic and well-decorated. It held the atmosphere of a place that required one to make reservations well in advance, though Logan didn’t need to say his name. The moment the hostess saw him, a long-legged brunette with a pixie cut and a skin-tight red dress, she led them to a table with two menus. Emilie got a distinct impression that being a Bane meant one didn’t need the reservation.
From their table, Emilie could see the door and she occupied her time watching people come and go. It was a suitable distraction from the restaurant. With the austerity of the restaurant, adorned by large mullioned windows and vases of flowers spread out across the tables, she couldn’t relax, especially not with Logan sitting across from her. The soft jazz music, no doubt played by a live band somewhere above them, simply wasn’t her type of vibe. She didn’t even notice that Logan had ordered a bottle of the finest wine.
“You’re very quiet for someone who wanted to talk, Detective,” Logan eventually said. “I ordered the Chef’s Choice. He never ceases to amaze.”
“You can call me Emilie, you know,” she murmured, breaking her gaze from the door to meet Logan’s startling eyes. “I’m sure the meal will be lovely.”
Logan arched an eyebrow. The wine arrived, keeping him from saying anything more.
As Emilie sipped her drink, she couldn’t help but think that the wine was good, but it didn’t ease the awkwardness between her and Logan. They were well through the first course before Logan finally spoke again.
“You’re not comfortable here, are you?”
The question took her aback, but Emilie raised a napkin to her mouth and nodded her head.
“Why is that?”
“I don’t really know,” Emilie admitted. She realized she didn’t. “Perhaps because it’s the type of place my father would have loved. To be honest with you, I’d rather have a burger.”
At this, Logan’s face broke into a dazzling smile and he gave a chuckle. Emilie’s eyebrows shot upward and Logan raised his glass. “If you want, I could always have the chef whip something –”
“No!” Emilie cried and then, looking around shiftily, lowered her voice. “That’s okay. I’ll be fine.”
Logan’s grin grew wider. “I was joking, Emilie. But I’ll bear that in mind for next time.”
Emilie raised her glass, feeling the flutter of what could be butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Next time?
To her surprise, Logan downed the rest of his glass and Emilie followed suit. She immediately felt a rush to her head, but it was a pleasant one, the kind that quieted racing thoughts.
“What do you say we skip dessert and go for a walk?” Logan stood from the table and held his hand out to her.
They walked across the bridge to the click-clack of Emilie’s heels, but she couldn’t get Krystal out of her mind. Only a few miles away, she was killed. Questions hung in the air between her and Logan, but she didn’t know how to voice any of them. She wished Krystal could somehow tell them why she’d disappeared, why she’d returned, and why it ended in her death.
“I feel like I failed her,” Logan finally said, coming to a stop. He leaned against the railing overlooking the stream. “Krystal, I mean.”
Emilie leaned against the railing beside him. “Why do you feel that way?”
“I’m her big brother. I’m supposed to protect her. We all knew something was wrong when she left, but we let her go, and now she’s gone for good,” Logan sighed. “I guess that’s why I was so pissed when you came asking questions. I was afraid I already knew the answers and they pointed at us. At me.”
“It wasn’t your fault she died, Logan,” Emilie murmured, reaching for his hand. He let her slip her fingers between his an
d she squeezed gently.
“I have to make it up to her, you know. They can’t get away with it.”
“Who, the Makinens?” Emilie whispered the name, bracing herself for Logan’s reaction.
He looked at her sharply. “Putting those detecting skills to work, I see.”
“I’m trying to bring her justice,” Emilie shrugged, pausing. “I know you want me to let this go, and you aren’t alone in that, but I can’t. I just… I have a lot riding on this.”
Logan reached out to tuck one of the loose tendrils behind her ear. Emilie had to resist the urge to lean into his touch. “Do tell.”
“I don’t even know where to begin. I guess it started when I found out about the Makinens and organized crime. It reminded me of my father.”
“Your father?” he broached.
Emilie nodded. “He’s a businessman and a good one at that, if the money is anything to go by.”
“Ahhh. Well, that explains your apartment.”
“Actually, that’s all me. I had a company under my father’s, but I sold it a few years ago, after I learned that as good a businessman as he was, he wasn’t exactly a good man. Still, the money allows me to live comfortably.”
“I think I see where this is going.”
“You do?”
Logan nodded and, before she knew what he was doing, he moved closer. “You don’t have to try to fix his mistakes.”
“Any more than you have to blame yourself for your sister’s death,” Emilie breathed.
His head was tilted in and Emilie didn’t know whether to look at his eyes or his lips as both closed in. The second his lips touched hers, her eyes fluttered shut. They were warm and soft, coaxing her mouth open until she finally gave in. At her gasp, he took his chance to slip his tongue into her mouth. The sense of urgency grew as Logan deepened the kiss. Emilie’s hands found the back of his head and she curled her fingers in his hair.
It felt as soft as it looked.
Giving In
The drive back to Emilie’s apartment was mercifully quick, but it was one of the most frustrating experiences of her life. Logan teased her by running his fingertips up and down the inside of her smooth thighs and as much as she wanted to, she knew she couldn’t return the favor. She couldn’t reach for him and torture him in the same way because as crazy as he drove her, he had a car to drive too.
That was why she was out of the car before Logan could open her door. He chased her up the steps to the apartment and when she got there, she had to contend with his body pressing into her from behind. She almost put her hair up; it left her neck completely exposed to Logan’s lips, to his hot breath, and to his tongue as it danced along her pale skin. All the while, she fumbled with the keys, desperate to get inside.
At long last, the lock clicked open and the pair stumbled into her apartment. She spun on her heel, reaching for Logan’s neck to pull her down to him. The door slammed shut behind him. This time, his lips weren’t gentle against hers. They demanded and they took as they crashed into her. His tongue danced against hers as if they were in some kind of fight and his teeth scraped her full lower lip. All the while, Logan’s hands found her body. They pulled her into him, hands tracing the soft curve of her hips before dipping beneath the hem of her skirt to cup her pert behind.
Emilie broke away to gasp for air as Logan’s hands gripped her flesh. A squeal escaped her mouth as he lifted her off the ground. The wedges slipped off her feet and hit the wooden floor with a clatter. Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist on autopilot and she felt the unmistakable bulge behind his jeans, pressed against her heat.
In one fluid motion, he unzipped her dress, exposing inch after inch of skin. He slipped his hands into the opening and the fabric slid down her body until her bra was revealed. The bra and the position pushed her chest out and her breasts looked as though they wanted to escape from their confines, the flesh heaving with each breath she took. Logan met her eyes as he leaned forward to brush his lips along her cleavage. Goosebumps rose in the wake of his breath and Emilie’s core tightened with need.
“Logan,” she gasped.
She wasn’t sure if it was her voice, if it was the way she said his name, or if it was the sheer need, but she didn’t care as Logan lowered the bra and took a nipple between his teeth. He tugged gently, drawing a low moan from Emilie, before moving on to the other. Emilie reached behind her back to release the clasp of her bra, freeing her breasts.
“Fuck,” Logan murmured. He ground his hips into hers and Emilie released another moan.
“I second that,” she whispered as she met his blue eyes.
Something shifted in Logan as he stared back into her eyes. He raised a hand to cup Emilie’s face. This time, she leaned into it, closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Logan touching her. Heat emanated off every inch of the man and she thought she would be quite happy to bask in it.
It was that heat that alerted her to the fact that Logan was going to kiss her again, made her part her lips as she felt him lean in once more. While their tongues danced in and out of one another’s mouths, he carried her down the hallway in the dark, his hands kneading the flesh of her ass. If he hadn’t been there before, Emilie still wasn’t certain he wouldn’t have knocked into anything. He had more grace in his entire body than Emilie had in her right hand and he seemed to know exactly where he was going, so she asked no questions when he dropped her on her bed.
Moonlight flooded the room, shining down through the lace curtains. It was just enough for them to see one another by. Each curve and bow of their bodies moved in and out of silver shadows cast by the moon. The sharp line of his jaw was highlighted and Emilie was struck with a dreamy kind of wonder. It occurred to her that this was Logan Bane, the man she’d been drawn to since the first day, in spite of his attitude problems. And she was half-naked for him, beneath the moonlight.
Perfect for a wolf, Emilie found herself thinking.
The mattress gave way beneath them as Logan climbed over her body. In the process of shimmying out of her dress, she brushed up against him and the movement elicited a groan that seemed to shoot straight to her center. Her bra was dropped somewhere along the way, leaving her in nothing but a pair of lacy black underwear. She was wet and wanting.
Emilie reached for him eagerly, feeling entirely underdressed. Her fingers deftly undid the button of his pants and as she slipped her hands into his briefs, he tugged his jacket and shirt off his body. His shoes and pants followed and when he was naked, he hooked his fingertips into the waistband of her panties. He watched her face as he dragged them down her legs and dropped them on the floor with the rest of their clothes. Her breaths were heavier as he kissed his way up the inside of her legs, switching sides and flicking his tongue against her skin. Every nerve in Emilie’s body danced in anticipation and she could smell the scent of her sex in the air.
She was so desperate for him that she tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and gave in to every sensation thrumming through her body. She whispered a low, “Fuck me…”
Logan froze and Emilie whipped her head around to look down at him. His lips were hovering over her pussy, parted enough that she could feel his breath against her most sensitive part, the part that begged for him to touch her. Her clit was swollen and pulsing. Even Emilie could see the way her thighs and lips glistened beneath the moonlight.
Emilie gulped at the look on his face. It was the predatory gaze she recognized, but it was stronger, paired with an intense hunger that only fanned the flames between her legs.
“Say it again,” he whispered, dipping his tongue between her folds.
A moan escaped her lips and Emilie’s hips bucked involuntarily. Logan smirked up at her, the look on his face so damn smoldering and sexy that she wanted to defy him. As if to challenge her, Logan slipped his fingers between her folds next. He tested first, pressing gently, but he was met by no resistance. Emilie was so wet that two of his fingers slid into her easily. She had to bite d
own on her lower lip in an effort to keep from saying it again.
She knew what would happen if she did, knew that she would get exactly what she wanted, but she didn’t want to give in just yet.
“C’mon, Emilie,” Logan whispered. “You know you want to.”
It was like he was inside her head, able to read her thoughts, and it only made Emilie want him more. He moved his fingers in and out of her in slow motions, leaning in to take her clit between his lips. She couldn’t hold back the cry of pleasure as he sucked on the swollen nub and flicked the tip of his tongue gently against the underside, all while his fingers slid in and out.
“Please,” Emilie whimpered as she felt that all too familiar pull.
The heat burning in her core bubbled, threatening to boil over as she curled her toes and dug her nails into the sheets on either side of her writhing form. Pleading with him wasn’t enough. He didn’t stop, didn’t change what he was doing. His tongue kept flicking persistently and he curled his fingers within her, pressing against a spot that made her hips move as if she were some kind of exotic dancer.
Her movements were involuntary, as were the high-pitched whimpers she made. Logan led her body to the tipping point she’d been looking for and when they got there, he pushed her over it. Emilie threw her head back and let out a long moan as her pussy tightened around his fingers, pulsing with the intensity of the orgasm that hit her. It was only then that Logan eased up on his assault, his strokes slowly growing slower and slower until they stopped altogether and he released her clit from between his lips.
Logan pulled back only to blow gently on her clit and whisper once more. “Tell me what you want, my sweet detective…”
Emilie bit down on her lower lip. Never in her life had she imagined someone using her profession to turn her on, but when Logan did it, in that voice that dripped like molten chocolate, it drove her closer to the edge. And she wanted to go over it.
“Fuck me,” she murmured. “Please…”
