Pistol Whipped (Love on Target Book 3)

by Ashley Bostock

  “What’s your idea?” He cringed guzzling a long swallow from his beer.

  “You have sex with me.”

  Chapter Seven

  Logan spewed his beer all over his couch. “What?”

  “Now hear me out, Logan Anthony Reeves. You would be the perfect choice. I trust you. I know you wouldn’t get me pregnant.” Gabbie set her beer down and looked at Logan. Yes, she was buzzed—but this would solve all of her problems. It really would. She liked Logan, he was hot—everyone knew it—she trusted him with her life. What could be better? They could have sex, just once, and she would feel like a new woman again. Not to mention the fact it would hold her over for another few years. “Don’t look at me that way. I’m not so drunk to know this could work for me.”

  “I don’t even know what to say. I’m shocked.”

  “Don’t be. Friends have sex with each other all the time. Sober friends, drunken friends…don’t they? Yeah, friends with benefits! I knew there was a name for it. We could be friends with benefits for just one night. No one would even have to know except us.”

  He sat there in silent contemplation. His brow was furrowed, which meant he was actually thinking about it. “Why, Gabbie? Don't give me this bullshit about how you trust me, you don't want to get pregnant. What’s the real deal?”

  The real deal? She could never tell him where her real fear came from. He would never think of her the same.

  Aside from that issue, there was so much pressure involving sex when it came to two people who were attracted to each other—she should know—she did marketing for this for her store—what to wear, how you smelled, smiled, if you shaved, and those were only superficial aspects. There was most definitely the trust issue, whether he really believed that or not. What else was there? She couldn't very well tell him that he made her feel like a million bucks when he saw her in the red get-up. But there was that. And there was the simple fact that if she were honest with herself, she could admit that she was scared of the fact that she had no idea what she was doing.

  Logan could teach her.

  “The entire truth,” well most of it, anyway, “is I’m scared to have sex because I'm afraid that I'm not very good at it. And I need someone to teach me.” She hung her head in shame.

  “Gabriella, listen to me. Please listen.”

  She looked up at him then. She could see the pity in his eyes. Beautiful. Just what she needed. Her best friend feeling sorry for her. She could see the no and the but coming.

  “Hey, listen to me.” He grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers between hers. “I'm flattered that you would even consider me. You are drunk. The Gabbie I know would never ask me this. Ever. I know you’ve had too much to drink. Maybe you just haven't met the right man yet. Trust me, you won't be afraid when you know it's right and you will be good at it.” He cleared his throat. “In fact, my guess is you’d be really good at it.”

  “Logan, it would be right with you,” she pleaded.

  His light-hearted chuckle warmed her. “If this is something you are serious about,” he pushed her chin up with his fingers, forcing her to look at him. “If you really believe this and this isn't some drunken thing you’re thinking about, I promise I will consider it. Shoot me a text while I'm gone and all you have to say is yes, you truly mean it. Whatever. But Cinderella, I want to hear you ask me while you’re sober.”

  Fine. But she just wanted to feel something—right now. Instead, all she felt was, well, a little dizzy. But maybe if she kissed Logan, it would make her feel something and that would at least make her feel a little better. Maybe it would awaken her more-often-than-not dormant insides.

  “Now stand up, you can sleep in my room.”

  He grabbed her underneath her arms and began pulling her to her feet. This would be the last thing he was expecting. So, she did it. She expertly stood on her tippy-toes, wrapped her arms around his neck and forced his head down just enough for her to reach his lips and she kissed him.

  She felt his initial instinct to pull away, but she threw herself into him, clenching her arms tighter around his neck. She delved into his mouth greedily, soaking up his wet beer-tasting mouth with her own. His arms came around her lower back. She didn't know when the controls switched over, but she was no longer leading the game.

  Logan took ownership of the kiss and began giving her what she had been begging him to feel. He kissed her slowly, enticingly licking her lips only to move fast, dominating her mouth with his tongue. A moan escaped from her throat as he continued his sweet assault and she was desperate and hungry for more. His hands left her waist and in the next instant he had her hands unlocked from his neck and was pushing her away.

  In the silence, all she could hear was her labored breathing. Their eyes met and held for a moment. Holy crap. She just kissed Logan. And it was fucking amazing. His carefree twinkle was gone, but what was there was something Gabriella had never seen from Logan.

  Squelching hot desire.

  He was turned on. She could see it both in his eyes and his jeans.

  “Go to bed, Gabriella!” His voice was low, threatening.

  She felt a push of adrenaline inside her. She hadn’t felt this way in ages. It feels good. Oh man, her heart was beating so fast. Was his?

  “No, Logan! Tell me, is your heart beating fast, too?” She placed her hand on her chest to feel the palpitation. She went to place her hand over his heart, but he quickly grabbed her by the wrist.

  “Go to bed, Gabriella. You need sleep.”

  Chapter Eight

  What she did was unbelievable. Shocking, to say the least. She’s lucky he had some sense of dignity and didn’t fuck her like she wanted. She would have woken up feeling like shit and he would have left feeling…satisfied and shitty. Logan had been trying to get some shut eye on the plane but Gabbie’s tempting mouth kept invading his thoughts. Fuck. He had wanted to take her up on her offer and throttle her neck at the same time. He’d like to know what in the hell was going through that brain of hers.

  Seriously.

  He chuckled at the thought of her waking up in his bed. Served her right. She drank way too fast last night that once he’d, mostly unwillingly, walked away from her, he’d come back to find her passed out on his couch. He carried her to his bed, where he unfastened her fuck-me pumps—his new-found knowledge affirming she was in fact the only female on the planet that wasn't actually hoping for that—and had, like a true gentleman, tucked her in safe and sound.

  He’d tried to get some sleep on his couch, but the night’s conversation had been front and center on his mind. He’d finally rolled himself off the couch, set some orange juice and two pain-relievers on his nightstand along with a note for when she awoke. Maybe he should start calling her Sleeping Beauty.

  He’d gone from not being one hundred percent sure about wanting her, to wanting her a hundred and fifty percent. Her kissing him had sent him flying over the edge. Her lips were nothing like he’d imagined. He was used to women taking, taking, taking, and being sure of what they wanted, like Lucy. But not Gabriella. Ballsy as she was sucker punching him with that kiss, once their lips met, she had become unsure, hesitant and he had happily taken control. Her tongue hadn't been demanding. It had been desperate with need and had pulled him into a whole other realm. It took a good deal of strength to push her away. Ironically, she had no idea how much that kiss had tortured him and was continuing to drive him insane.

  The way her body had molded into his when she’d attacked him. The feel of her tits pressed against his shirt, and how his fingers immediately found her sweet skin underneath the hem of her shirt, had him readjusting his crotch as he sat uncomfortably on the plane.

  He needed to start thinking about his future.

  Once the plane landed, he managed to get to the ground transportation level where he made a black car request on his iPhone. His driver eventually made it to Manhattan amid the hustle and bustle of traffic, and then once they got into the city, was able to get past t
he people crossing the street despite the no walking sign. He pulled up to the address in a fair amount of time. Not having to pay the driver, Logan stepped out, got his luggage and thanked the man.

  Logan smirked at the sign plastered to the building in all caps along the front.

  REEVES.

  That was it. Nothing less, nothing more. No ‘& Associates’ or ‘Attorney at Law’ or even ‘Real Estate Firm.’ Jack didn't need any of that, affluent enough that you either knew about him from business associates who needed his services on a daily basis, or you didn't. No need for advertisement because his clients just repeatedly rolled in.

  With his luggage in hand, Logan stepped up on to the sidewalk and tilted his head back, enjoying the expansive upward view of the building itself. He was always impressed with the high-rise and how its black glass windows reflected most of the buildings across the street. He took a deep breath and made his way into REEVES.

  “May I help you?” A stellar blonde with bright red lipstick greeted him.

  “Hi. I'm here to see Jack. He told me he’d be waiting.”

  “Your name, sir?”

  “Logan Reeves.”

  She glanced away from her computer monitor and up into his eyes, giving him an undeniable look of attraction. “I would’ve guessed that. I'm Suzanna. You look exactly like Mr. Reeves.”

  Logan laughed. “I suppose that's a compliment…unless he’s starting to look his age.”

  Suzanna smiled. “No, sir. He is not. You can go up now. I trust you know where you’re going?”

  “I do. Thank you.”

  “Anytime. If you need anything else, let me know.” He bet if he needed anything else, she would be happy to give it to him if the look in her eyes were any indication.

  “Oh, I will.” He flashed her his most charming smile before making his way to the security guard. He showed the man his ID card and made his way up to see his father.

  It always surprised Logan how Jack never seemed to age. Year after year and Jack never changed. Never looked a day over fifty.

  “Son, good to see you,” Jack bellowed, embracing Logan into a bear hug.

  “You too, Pops. What's this? A grey hair?” Logan teased.

  Jack ducked from Logan’s outstretched arm. “I wouldn't be surprised. They say once you’re my age and you get one it’ll take over your entire head like a bunch of at a picnic table. How was the flight?”

  “Good. Tried sleeping, but you know how it is.”

  “Can't stand commercial flights anymore. Hiroshi Miyamoto will be here shortly. Let's go in my office and talk before he arrives.”

  Chapter Nine

  Gabriella still had a splitting headache and the day wasn't even half over. She had seriously pondered the idea of putting a ‘No Children Under 8’ sign on the outside of Lolita to thwart off any potential screaming and rambunctious kids that came in with their mothers. She hadn't drunk in quite a long time; she had forgotten what it felt like to be blessed with a hangover. She’d awakened in Logan’s bed to two pain-relievers and orange juice and a hand-written note from him. Cinderella – You owe me big time and I will collect. Try to lay off the wine coolers while I'm gone and be a good girl. When I come back, we need to talk. ~Logan.

  Well that was just fine. She hadn't been that horrible last night that he thought he needed to reprimand her. Had she? Her memory was pretty fuzzy. She remembered the beginning of the evening, complaining to him about Cody, but aside from that, she didn't remember much else.

  She had finished her wine coolers in record time, and she vaguely recalled drinking some of Blake Bryant's micro-brew—something she rarely drank. She enjoyed the taste but didn’t want the unwanted weight on her hips. It wasn't like she had a drinking problem by any means so why it was so important that they talk when he came back was beyond her. Maybe this had something to do with his father’s firm and he’d made a decision.

  That was probably it. It had been plaguing him for quite some time now, that he must have made a decision. Although he never mentioned anything about it last night. What decision could he have possibly come to while sleeping? She swore Logan was the only guy she knew who could, while sleeping, come up with a plan and make decisions. The next morning he would always be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, happy with a decision he made overnight.

  Selfishly, she loved Logan. If he moved to Manhattan, it would be the first time in their lives they would be separated for longer than a month. They talked or texted each other every day and saw each other almost as much and if he moved to the East Coast, she would rarely see him, if ever. If his father’s law firm was exactly as Jack said it was, there would be no way Logan could ever find time to come back to Colorado. He would be too busy keeping afloat his father’s multi-million-dollar empire. He wouldn’t have time for her.

  The same was true for her. She had Lolita to run. Not having been open very long, it was her first priority. She had to make sure it would succeed. She wouldn’t be able to take too much time off and even if she did, Logan would still have work.

  It was a hard place to be in. She had avoided delving into the pros and cons of what would happen if he chose to move away. He would make a lot more money. He would become emotionally closer to his father. He could see him more than he did growing up. Granted, he did see his father growing up, but he would actually be able to spend father/son time with him. Bond with him. Maybe they would go fishing on their days off.

  She would miss him to death. She would miss his help around her store. Miss having someone there that always wanted to see her at a moment’s notice. He was someone that understood her—he got her. Many times, they could share a look and know what each other was thinking without having to verbally confirm the thought.

  But she did want the best for him….whether that was in Colorado or New York, she wanted him to succeed. She wanted him to have the best possible life. She wanted him to be happy.

  She had yet to hear from him the whole day. She sent him a text. Make it ok? How is Jack? Happy to see u? Almost immediately he responded. Made it. Jack is happy. Been meeting with Hiroshi Miyamoto. Just took a break. A break? It was after business hours on the East Coast. Jack really was a glutton for punishment. Are u hired?

  Yup…feeling ok? Lock my house up? Gabbie confirmed that she had locked his house up and told him she was feeling better than when she had woken up. She thanked him for the pain-relievers and orange juice, and he told her he would talk to her later once he finished up.

  He didn’t seem too serious as his note implied…they needed to talk…maybe he was just trying to spare her feelings. He did that for her sometimes. When they were in college, he had repeatedly lied about his test scores—always telling her a number that was less than her scores. She would have never known otherwise except one day she was waiting for him to finish showering and was sitting in his dorm room and there sat the same test that he had just told her he hadn’t done that well on. She had to corner him and force the truth out of him, where he finally admitted that he generally fibbed—he’d called it—to spare her feelings. That was when she’d realized he was much smarter than she and would never fail.

  Logan Reeves didn’t know how to fail. It wasn’t in his blood.

  That was the reason Jack wanted him at his law firm. Jack could retire knowing Logan wouldn’t let him down. With Logan, he would give anything he did in life all his best. He liked to play on the surface, but deep down, she was one of the few who knew he took everything to heart. He contemplated everything, carefully weighing the benefits to the disadvantages—determining which option was most successful. He was the epitome of Auguste Rodin’s The Thinker.

  Once closing time came and she did her normal closing routine, she got into her car and headed home. Brandi had called her earlier asking if she wanted to go to a movie, but she declined. Drinking hadn’t done her any favors. Which was probably why she didn’t do it often. She never heard from the chef, which was fine by her at the moment. She had received a tex
t from Marilyn, inviting her to a picnic that she and Blake would be hosting this weekend. That would be perfect! She hadn’t seen the girls in a while, and it would be great to connect and relax.

  Make it home sober?

  She laughed humorlessly at his text. Yes! I wasn’t that bad…was I? She kicked off her heels and made her way to the bathroom where she started a bath and downed two more pain-relievers.

  You weren’t that bad….you were that naughty.

  She blushed. Naughty? Her? Whatever. She typed exactly that and sent it back. His next question surprised her.

  Were you serious about what we talked about last night?

  Hmm, what all did they talk about? She didn’t respond right away. She needed to think. Damn, she needed to remember. She did recall their conversation where she admitted she was afraid to have sex. Those were her own demons she knew she needed to deal with. Demons Logan knew nothing about. Is that what his question was referring to? Her being afraid to have sex? How embarrassing! Why was he so concerned? Absolutely! YES! Do you think I’m crazy?

  He sent a message back. No, the more I thought about it, it actually makes sense. I can see where you’re coming from.

  He could? That was the thing with Logan, she thought as she lay in the warm water soaking her aching feet and her body that still felt a little off, was that he accepted her thought process. He got her without even knowing the entire story and he just accepted it. He was a good man. Her phone buzzed again.

  I have to go to Japan. Come with me.

  What?! He really must be taking the job if he’s going to Japan. That guy he mentioned is a big deal at Jack’s firm. But to go with him? Was he crazy? She couldn’t leave work. For how long? When?

  Gabriella fantasized for a few moments about going to Japan. She had always wanted to go there. Since she was in high school and she had been assigned Japan for one of her units. She’d had to study everything about Japan for an entire semester, thus, falling in love with the culture and the country. That was a someday dream of hers. And someday wasn’t any time soon.