State of Play: Book Two; The Candidate

by Lee Taylor

  At that moment, Granger lumbered his way through the crowd and captured her arm. She didn’t have to see the smile splitting his gargantuan face to know how proud he was of her. Tugging her close to him, she shouldn’t have been surprised at his first question. “Where’s your man, Gia?”

  She shrugged, refusing to dissemble. “With his people. Where he belongs and I don’t.”

  A frown deepened the ridges lining his massive forehead. Shaking his head, his gravelly voice was soft, concerned. “Ah, sugar, don’t do that to yourself. That man is crazy about you . . . You have to know that.”

  Not wanting to argue with him, knowing that he wouldn’t understand, she was curt. “Never mind, Granger. You know who I am, who I’ll always be.” At that moment a profound wave of fatigue swept over her. Needing him to understand, she appealed to him. “I’m tired, Granger. So goddamned tired. I hope you don’t mind, but I need to go home. Please tell everyone . . . and find Ben. Tell him I took an Uber.”

  Before Granger could stop her, she’d worked her way through the crowd, pretending to head for the ladies’ room but instead slipping out the back door. Punching up her Uber account, she was relieved when minutes later the driver pulled into the alleyway. As she huddled in the confines of the back seat, she allowed herself to remember how she’d thought she would be going home with Logan tonight. How they would be celebrating their win. She fought through the cobwebs in her brain, trying to figure out what went wrong. After sorting through her agonized machinations and tired of arguing with herself, Gia conceded that nothing had gone wrong. Everything had played out as it was supposed to. The only thing that was wrong was her ridiculous notion that Logan was anything but the man she knew he was. That being several hundred echelons above her in every arena that counted. Choking on the thought, she admitted Savannah could have told her that.

  ****

  Gia dragged her body up the steps of her quiet house. She didn’t know when she’d ever been so tired, although she conceded a better description was drained. Shoving her key into the lock, she opened the door and stepped inside. She made it as far as the hallway, then jerked to a halt. Seeing the low light in the living room, she hesitated. She didn’t have to turn the corner to know that Logan was there. The subtle cologne and underlying masculine scent assaulting her agitated senses were unquestionably his. Swallowing past the grapefruit-sized lump in her throat, she forced herself to enter the room.

  Logan was sitting in the large armchair across the room. It was the same chair he’d co-opted when he’d first broken into her house. His suit coat was draped over the back of the chair. Underscoring his casually powerful presence, the sleeves on his black silk shirt were rolled up, exposing his muscular forearms. He’d settled back in the chair, one leg crossed insouciantly over the other. A slender Arturo Fuente cigar rested between his tapered fingers. The bottle of Macallan on the table confirmed the contents of the glass he was holding. He nodded to her and then to the bottle of expensive whiskey. “At least this time you have decent booze.”

  She sucked in a deep breath, acknowledging that his offhand quip and casual pose belied the fury raging in his eyes.

  Snuffing out his cigar in the ashtray on the table and putting the nearly empty glass next to it, he rose to his feet. Striding purposefully toward her, Logan held her in his narrow-eyed glare. His stern jaw line and corded neck muscles telegraphed his anger.

  Shoving at her rising fear, Gia admitted that she’d seen him angry before, but this was different.

  Eschewing his falsely casual mien closing in on her, his voice could have cut through glass. “Don’t you ever again dismiss me in public.” When she jerked back in surprise, he intoned, “Do you understand?”

  Swallowing hard, she tossed her head and tried to walk by him.

  He caught her arm and dragged her up next to him. “I asked you a question. Answer me.”

  Refusing to let him bully her, she tipped up her chin and shrugged dismissively. “What’ll you do if I do?”

  Gripping her arm tightly in his big hand, his lips quirked up at her saucy retort. “That is a good question, Gia. One that I plan to answer in great detail before this evening is over.” He added with a soft snort, “Be glad that you aren’t a man or you would be walking on crutches for months to come.”

  Narrowing his gaze further, his flat tone was laced with anger. “While I’ll allow a lot of things, Gia, your temper tantrums, your bad manners, your disobedience, I will not allow you to dismiss me.” Tightening his grip, he growled, “Do . . . you . . . fucking . . . understand . . . that? Do you?” When she gasped in shock at his fierce demand, he grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his blazing eyes. “Goddammit, nod if you understand.”

  When she swallowed hard and then gave a shaky nod, he said, “Good, I’m glad that you do.”

  Grasping her arms, he held her in front of him, studying her. Visibly trying to contain his anger, he said carefully, “But first, Gia, we need to get some things clear . . . crystal clear. Number one. You are my woman. I have told you that I’m in love with you. Which means that when I have to leave unexpectedly for three days and am going crazy not seeing you, I expect you to miss me as much as I am missing you. Furthermore, I expect you to know that I’m aching to hold you, wishing that we were wrapped in each other’s arms. I do not expect, nor will I tolerate, you throwing yet another tantrum—turning off your goddamned fucking phone so that I couldn’t reach you when I finally had a chance to do so.”

  He ran his eyes over her, then shook his head in wonder. “Do you have any idea how lovely you look? Jesus, Gia, this dress was made for you. No one could wear it the way that you do. When I saw you tonight, I knew that I had never seen a more beautiful or more elegant woman.” He held her for a long moment, then his jaw tightened and his eyes blazed with heat. His voice was riddled with disgust. “Yet, even knowing how gorgeous you looked and that you accomplished a victory of enormous proportions today, what did you do to celebrate your victory? Did you claim it? Revel in it? Share it with the people who admire you? Maybe even thank the people who supported you?

  “No, instead, you gave in to Savannah’s and her trust-fund bitches’ trope. You allowed those repulsive women with their ridiculously starved bodies and expensive clothes covering their rail-thin figures to get to you. You let their vicious jealousy of a woman who is a thousand times more accomplished than they are make that remarkable woman feel inferior.”

  Seeing her frown and dawning understanding, he nodded in acknowledgement. “Yes, Ben called me and told me all the shit those bitches laid on you.” He stopped, his face contorted with a mix of rage and pain. He shook his head, then dragged his hands through his slicked-back hair, allowing his angst to surface. “I should have expected that you wouldn’t allow yourself to see through their pitiful jealousy. What I didn’t expect was that you would doubt me, doubt us. That you would hear Savannah characterize our relationship in the most degrading terms possible and accept her description. Your sugar daddy, Gia? Is that how you see me, see us?”

  He stepped back, his eyes burning with fury. “Goddamn you, Gia, damn you to hell! Who do you think I am? What kind of a lying, disreputable son of a bitch do you think I am? And if I’m your sugar daddy, what are you? My whore? Is that how you’re willing to let that loathsome bitch define us?” Unable to control the tremor in his voice, he rasped, “Dammit, I need you to believe in me, in us. Why don’t you understand that? Why, Gia?”

  Closing his eyes, refusing to let her see how upset he was, he shoved at his angst and allowed his rage to flare. Stepping up next to her, he refused to acknowledge the tears hovering in her eyes. He didn’t want her consolation, her apologies. Fuck that. Instead, he focused on her trembling body, the flush of heat staining her cheeks. Reaching for her, his voice was low, threatening. “It’s clear you need to understand what it means to be my woman.” The heady scent of lavender, spice, and lush woman shot a blast of electricity to his rock-hard dick. Shoving her up again
st the wall, he drawled, “Let me put it this way, Gia. If you don’t know what it means to be my woman, perhaps it’s high time I show you.”

  Chapter 17

  Gia was stunned at Logan’s anger and even more so at his pain. She’d never seen him as angry or as upset. There was no way he wasn’t sincere. She struggled with how to respond. Her initial reaction was anger. She was furious that once again he’d broken into her house as if he had a right to come and go as he pleased. And she was even angrier with how he’d diminished her. How dare he claim that she was rude and that, like a child, she threw temper tantrums and worse, disobeyed him? She was shocked and angered when he insisted that she never again dismiss him in public. It also infuriated her that, frightened by his anger, she’d agreed.

  But all of those seemingly appropriate reactions to his overbearing arrogance were before she acknowledged how hurt he was. She also had to admit that many of his assertions were true. She had been so upset when he didn’t contact her, and she had let her imagination run wild. While she knew Ben was correct when he’d insisted that something important must have kept Logan away, she’d ultimately concluded it proved she couldn’t trust him.

  Looking at it from his vantage point, her decision to turn off her phone came close to the temper tantrum he called it. She confessed what it really underscored was her insecurity. Hearing him ask what kind of a cad did she think he was, that she would allow Savannah to define their relationship in such an ugly way, was painfully true. Overcome by a torrent of shame, stippled with insecurity, she knew that more than anything she wanted him to hold her, not in anger but in understanding. Seeing that was not going to happen, she gave in to the emotion that was obviously feeding his fury. At his insinuating taunt that it was high time she learned what it meant to be his woman, rather than anger, a blast of lust hit her with the intensity of a seething volcano.

  When he dragged her up against him, then turned her toward the wall, she gave in to the heat strafing her.

  He grabbed her hands and yanked them above her head. Pressing them against the wall, he muttered, “Don’t move. Stay just like this. Before I assault you, I need to take off this dress. You will need to wear it again—the night you win this fucking race you’re running. The race that even now you think you don’t deserve.”

  Unzipping the dress, he slid it over her hips, then lifted her out of it. Kicking the emerald satin treasure and her expensive shoes to the side, he groaned at the sight of her lacy thong and shelf bra. Unhooking her bra, he tossed it aside. With a quick snap, he ripped the thong from her body. Holding it up to his nose, he sucked in a ragged breath, reveling in its moist scent. “Ah yes, it’s good to know that at least your body knows that your lover is holding you even if your fucked-up mind won’t admit it.”

  Pressing her against the wall, he shoved his knee between her legs and muttered, “Is this how you want me to take you? Hard, fast, from behind?” At her agonized groan, he choked out a harsh laugh. “Of course you do. You’re my whore, right? That’s how Savannah thinks of you, so it must be true, correct?”

  Desperately wanting to hold him, she tried to turn toward him, reaching for him. To her surprise, he smacked her ass cheek—hard!

  “Uh-uh, sweetheart. You stay where I put you. I’m in charge here, and I want you against the wall with your hands up over your head like this.”

  At his harsh order, a spike of heat exploded over her. Unable to keep from moaning as a flood of sensations bombarded her, she pressed her hips up against him, frantically wanting him inside of her.

  His angry grunt confirmed he felt her rising passion, and he taunted her. “Ah yes, I think my little whore wants me. Is that right, baby? You want me to fuck you, Gia?” Yanking his belt buckle loose and unzipping his trousers, his voice was harsh, demanding, as he released his burgeoning cock. “Say it, baby. Tell me that you want me to drive my big, hard prick up inside your luscious pussy.” His voice was taut, strafed with emotion. “Tell me, Gia. Tell me you want me to fuck you like this, against the wall, deep, hard, and high.”

  Shocked by the sensations accosting her, Gia arched up against him, trying desperately to position herself against his hard staff. She couldn’t believe the fervor rioting through her. She cried out, “Yes, Logan, God yes. I want you, I need you so much. Please . . . please do that. Come inside of me.”

  He leaned over her, dragging his tongue against the tender flesh on her neck and groaned. “Ah yes, princess, this is what my woman wants, isn’t it?” Raising her hips, he positioned her pussy over his erect penis and drove up inside of her. Urged on by her welcoming cry, he began to thrust in earnest. At her sobbing appeals begging him not to stop, Logan gave in to his raging passion with an explosive shout.

  He held her against the wall for several long moments, struggling to get his breath and his heartbeat into a manageable range. He didn’t know who was shakier, Gia or him. He only knew without one strong arm bracing himself against the wall and the other wrapped around her shuddering body, they both might have sank to the floor. When he was sure he could carry her, he fastened his trousers, then swept her up in his arms. Striding toward the bedroom, he held her tight against his chest. Knowing that he was far from finished showing her what it meant to be his woman, he tossed her onto her bed, then gazed down at her, marveling at the extraordinary sight.

  She lay sprawled on the bed, her arms flung above her head, her legs tantalizingly splayed. He was sure if she saw herself, she would have adopted a more protective pose. As it was, her abandon was astonishingly seductive. Her cheeks were flushed a bright rosy red, as was her chest. Her eyes were squeezed shut, tears of joy trapped in her lush lashes. Her breasts rose and fell with her agitated breaths. Her nipples were taut, pointed nubs begging to be sucked. But it was her lush pussy that had his cock banging against his zipper, demanding to be free. Her mons was as flushed as her cheeks. Her intimate folds were puffy, swollen, damp with their combined juices.

  At that moment, she opened her eyes and something in his intense gaze must have betrayed her seductive openness, because she immediately tied to cover herself. Slamming her legs closed, with one hand she covered her pussy, and with the other she moved to shield her breasts.

  His remonstration was sharp, commanding. “Uh-uh, Gia. Absolutely not. I’m far from done with you. I want you open, unprotected, available to me in every way, every place possible.” Unbuckling his belt, he slid it out of the loops and let it hang against his leg. At her surprised start, he frowned and shook his head. “No, princess, I’m not going to hit you with this. I never would. In fact, I’m too angry even to spank you. Although God knows I want to. But I know if I started, I’m not sure I’d be able to stop.”

  At her shocked gasp, he stretched the belt between his hands. “You have a choice. I can use this to secure your hands to the headboard, or you can be a good girl and reach up and grasp that iron railing and hang on tight with both hands.” When she frowned and moved to cover her body, he shrugged as he stepped toward her. “Your choice, princess. Just know that I am a long way from done showing you what it means to be my woman. And, sweetheart, it begins with your doing what I tell you to do.”

  When she tentatively reached for the railing, he nodded his approval, then tugged his shirt out of his pants and slowly unbuttoned it. Shrugging it off, he unfastened the top two buttons on his trousers and shoved them lower on his hips. Holding her gaze, he kicked off his shoes and yanked off his socks, then moved up to the edge of the bed. Her sharp intake of breath acknowledged his predatory intent. When she bit down on her puffy bottom lip and her cheeks flushed a brighter scarlet color, he knew she was as turned on by his aggressive moves as he was.

  Determined to ratchet up her desire even more, he glanced at her legs and taunted her. “You’re going to need to spread your legs, baby. But first, bend your knees and put your feet up against your ass.” When she hesitantly moved her feet a few inches, he shook his head and smacked her thigh. “On second thought, how about
you bring your knees up to your chest and then spread your legs open . . . wide open.”

  Gia sucked in a deep breath, then bit down hard on her bottom lip. She knew he was purposefully taunting her, no doubt seeing how hard he could push her until she resisted. And then, as she knew only too well, he would drive her further, testing all the boundaries she had before breaching them with abandon. Swallowing hard, she tried to squeeze her legs together, embarrassed at the moisture she could feel on the inside of her thighs. She stared at his muscular chest and arms and eyed the dark gold hair on his tight abs that arrowed below his pants. Enticed by his prominent arousal, she couldn’t hold back a breathless whimper.

  With a sexy shrug, he unbuttoned the last button and unzipped his pants. Shoving them over his hips and strong muscular thighs, he stepped out of them. Rising to his full height, he strode toward the bed, his impressively aroused penis jutting out in front of him.

  Eyeing her thighs that she was clenching together, he tossed her a salacious grin and murmured, “Uh-uh, sweetheart. I said spread your legs, not press them together. How else can I see those luscious juices seeping from your hot pussy?” When she flushed brighter, then shook her head and slammed her legs together, he laughed outright. “Oh, baby, do you have any idea what teasing me does to a dominant asshole like me?” Moving in on her, he repeated, “Do you?” He chuckled. “Methinks you don’t . . . or . . . maybe my woman does know and is enticing me with her bad behavior.” Crawling up over her, he wrapped her fingers around the bed railing. Straddling her, he reached for one taut nipple and then the other. Rolling them between his fingers and thumbs, he was gratified at her surprised shriek.

  “Oh yeah, sweetheart, I was so eager to feast on your beautiful pussy, I almost overlooked these treasures. How silly of me. And what a waste of the most gorgeous breasts I’ve ever seen. Tell me, baby, do you think you can come just by my suckling you? By biting, sucking, playing with these responsive nipples until you’re begging me not to stop?” At her agonized cry, he chortled, a low groaning sound, “Mm-hmm, princess, we both know that you can, so let’s do that now, shall we? Shall I taste you? Suck on you? Bite you, make you come?”