by Ava Bloom
The glass seemed to shatter in slow motion, cracks rippling out from the crater in the center, but eventually, the window began to fall apart in large chunks, clattering onto the tile floor inside the studio and the cement outside.
The noise was enough for Jade to slip off her headphones and turn around. Her eyes were wide and terrified, her mouth open in shock. She was frozen in place, gaping at the hole in her window and me standing beyond it. But I’d explain later. I’d pay to fix the window. I’d take care of everything. But right now, I needed to take care of her.
I cupped my hands around my mouth and screamed. “Run!”
10
JADE
EVEN OVER MY BLARING MUSIC, I heard the commotion. It sounded like an explosion, like everything on my display cases had tumbled off and shattered to the floor, and my first thought was inexplicably, Earthquake.
But then I turned around and saw Logan. He was standing outside my window like a serial killer in a movie, framed by the damage he had caused. The look in his eyes was so wild I barely recognized him, and a shiver ran through me. Was this because I’d fired him? Because of our fight? Was he going to tear apart my studio as punishment? Or was his plan to hurt me?
All of the questions sat unspoken on my tongue, which suddenly felt dry and cottony. I’d never experienced shock like this. Even the night of my attack, I’d been able to fight. But now, staring at Logan, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say or do. And then, he screamed at me.
“Run!”
It was a threat. A head start for whatever sick game he had planned. But still, I took his advice. I threw off my headphones, dropped my paintbrush, and ran for the hallway. Logan screamed something else behind me, but I couldn’t hear him, not over the sound of blood whirring in my ears and my heart thundering in my chest. I had to get out of the studio, get away from Logan.
I was halfway down the hallway before I realized my cell phone was on the easel. I’d have to find someone to call 911 for me. If I could outrun Logan for that long. I was wearing a dress and flats, and he was once in the Special Forces. One of us clearly had the leg up here.
“Jade, wait!” Logan yelled from the studio. He was inside now. I could hear his feet pounding against the tile. “There’s someone in here!”
Yeah, him. He was in here. I careened past the storage closet where we’d made out only a few days before and ducked into my private studio space. I stumbled over the leg of an easel, sending one of my works in progress flying across the room, but I didn’t care about that. I just needed to get to the back door and into the alley.
At the same time the thought popped into my head, I realized the back door was standing wide open, swaying slightly on the hinge, like someone had just run through it.
“There’s someone in here.”
Logan hadn’t been talking about himself.
“Run!”
It had been a warning.
I scrambled away from the alley door, expecting someone to burst through it any second, and I slammed into something hard. Something warm.
Logan’s arm wrapped around me, hugging me to his chest for a second before he spun around and put himself between me and the alley.
* * *
AFTER A THOROUGH CHECK of the studio and the surrounding area, Logan locked the alley door, helped me nail a piece of plywood from the storage closet over the gaping window, and then sat down in the accent chair he had claimed as his own over the last couple weeks. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, head hanging down between his shoulders.
“I saw someone come down the alley,” he said. “I thought maybe I was imagining it since I haven’t been sleeping very well, but then I saw someone at the end of your hallway. You couldn’t hear me over your music and the door was locked, so I had to—” He tipped his head towards the boarded over window and shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” I walked across the room until we were only a few feet apart. I wanted to kneel down in front of him and grab his face, but I’d said horrible things to him. I’d treated him like shit. Even though he’d tried to save my life less than half an hour ago, it didn’t mean he wanted anything more from me. So, I stayed standing, hands folded together tightly. “You saved my life, Logan. There is nothing to be sorry about.”
He looked up at me, green eyes bloodshot and wired. I could see the evidence of the sleeplessness he’d mentioned, and I wondered if it was because of me. Before I could ask, he stood up and closed the distance between us. We were only a foot apart, and though he didn’t reach out to touch me, I could feel his nearness like a physical touch. Just being close to him was enough. Almost.
“I have so much to be sorry for,” he said. “I crossed a line. I doubted your friend with no proof, and I complicated our working relationship. I put you in a tough position.”
“And I treated you like a servant,” I said, the bitter taste of the commands I’d given him still fresh in my mouth. “You were only trying to make sure I was safe, and I dismissed you like you were stupid.”
“I was stupid,” he said, shaking his head like he wanted to shake away the memory. “Of course, I do not think of you as just some rich daddy’s girl, but I got angry and turned into a jerk. And between that and the way I acted in the storage closet, I don’t blame you for kicking me out. I was way out of line.”
Logan ran his hand through his hair, and I noticed the gash across his knuckle for the first time. Instinctively, I reached out and caught his hand, turning it over to inspect the cut. “You’re hurt.”
When I looked up, his eyes weren’t on his hand, but on me. They traced my face, settling on my lips, and I could feel my muscle memory tingling. My lips wanted more of him. I closed my hands around his, holding it to my chest, and took a step forward until our hips were pressed together and I was looking up into his eyes. “Maybe you weren’t completely out of line.”
Just like he’d done in the storage closet, and just like I’d imagined too many times to count, he closed the distance between us and crushed his lips to mine. It was a punishing, needy kiss, and I wanted more. My fingers tangled in his sandy blond hair, and it was softer than I would have thought, like feathers. He tasted like coffee and peppermint, and the warmth of him chased away the fear that had taken root in my chest, growing and spreading every second he was gone.
Logan’s rough hand grazed down my body, resting on my hip, and I knew he wanted to pull the tie of my dress free. And I wanted him to. Except.
I pulled away and glanced towards the undamaged window. The street beyond was empty, but that didn’t mean getting naked in full view of passersby was a good idea. “We can’t.”
Logan stiffened, his hands lifting off of me like he’d just realized I was a hot burner and his skin was melting. I scrambled to grab his arms and force them around my waist. “Not here, at least.”
I stretched up and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was supposed to be a sweet kiss, but then Logan’s large hand was at the base of my neck, and I was tipping back, giving more of myself to him, letting his arms be the only thing keeping me from slamming into the ground.
Before he could kiss away all of my senses, and I decided to strip down in front of the display window, I pressed on his chest until he sat me on my feet and stepped away.
His green eyes were wide and alive, his hair sticking up where my fingers had played in it. His cheeks were red, and his lips were swollen. Logan looked tousled and unbelievably sexy. I realized I’d been staring at him too long when he ran a hand through his short beard and looked down at the floor, hiding a smile.
“My place,” I said, the words shooting out of me like bullets. I shook my head and took a breath. “I mean, if you wouldn’t mind giving me a ride back to my place, then we can—”
Logan grabbed my hand and pressed my knuckles to his lips, leaving a lingering kiss there. Then, he smiled, and my knees wobbled. “Get your things.”
I practically sprinted across the room to get my purse, but I l
eft my brushes. I had a feeling I wouldn’t be using them tonight. Or tomorrow morning.
* * *
LOGAN HAD BEEN in my apartment a few days before, but we hadn’t been…whatever we are now, then. He was just the guy my dad hired who was getting a little stalkery. The guy who I’d dreamed about in inappropriate ways and caught myself staring at way too often. But now, Logan and I were going to have sex. And I wanted him to like me.
“It’s a bit of a mess,” I said, kicking a pair of my shoes out of the walkway and underneath the sofa. There were art magazines and sketchbook pages filled with painting ideas I’d hastily scribbled in pen scattered across the couch. My dishes from breakfast that morning were soaking in the sink, and a pile of unfolded clean laundry was in my armchair. It looked like a college guy’s dorm room.
Logan grabbed my arm as I was reaching for the laundry and spun me around, my chest colliding with his in a heavenly thud. “Luckily, I’m not here because of your housekeeping skills.”
He dipped me back and kissed my neck and my collarbone. I let my eyes flutter closed as he explored as far down my chest as my dress would allow.
“I usually keep things tidier than this,” I breathed, fighting to keep in a moan as he licked the rarely touched skin between my breasts. “I’ve been a little distracted the last few days.”
Logan nibbled the soft side of my breast. “Distracted by what?”
“You.” It was true. I’d poured myself into planning for my Made Good collection because otherwise, I knew I would pick up my phone and call Logan. I’d beg him to forgive me, and it would have been pathetic. Especially because I hadn’t been sure what happened between us in the storage closet was anything more than a fling. Before Faith had interrupted, I’d told him I wouldn’t be a one-night stand, but we were so lost in one another that he probably would have agreed to give me his first born just to continue. Like most men, I suspected Logan became singularly focused when a half-naked woman was wrapped around him.
He kissed his way back up my chest, licked a line from the base of my neck to my earlobe, and then held my cheeks in his palms and looked down at me. His lips were pink and pouty, and his beard tickled my chin. “Then allow me to distract you further.”
When our lips touched this time, it was different. Hotter. Without discussing it, he began walking us blindly towards the hallway, stumbling over another pair of my shoes that I’d left in the middle of the floor and bumping into the walls as we pawed at one another. When he hesitated, I tipped my head in the direction of my bedroom door, and Logan followed my direction.
As soon as the door was open, I hooked my hands around his neck and jumped. Logan caught me, hitching my legs around his waist, and walked us towards the bed. He laid me on my back, and I held him against me, grinding my hips into his, groaning when I felt his excitement against me.
He palmed my breasts and slid his hands down to the dip of my stomach, his eyes on mine the entire time, watching how his touch affected me. But when he finally untied my dress and unwrapped it, his eyes slipped down to my body and went black.
“You are incredible,” he said, leaning forward to touch his lips to the skin between my belly button and the top of my panties. His hands worked their way up my ribs and around. I arched my back to let him undo the clasp of my bra, and then sat up as he peeled my dress and bra straps down my arms, his touch trailing fire in its wake. When I was in front of him in nothing but my black panties, he stood back and bit his lower lip, clearly enjoying the view.
“Your turn,” I said shyly, beckoning him with a curled finger. Button by button, I opened his shirt, revealing the masterpiece that was his chest and abs. If the giant salads were what made this body, then I prayed to God he would never stop eating them. Before I could stop myself, I leaned forward and licked from one abdominal to the next like he was a human popsicle.
Much before I was finished, Logan pushed me back on the bed, slid out of his jeans, and crawled over me. When I whined in protest, he gripped my chin in his fingers. “You can’t do things like that and expect me to remain calm.”
Fire roared inside of me. I’d only seen neutral Logan and angry Logan, but this was a new version of him, and I felt pretty confident I was going to like horny Logan. I clawed at his shoulders and pulled him down until we were flush, our bodies writhing against one another as he kissed my throat and my bare shoulders, and I sucked on his earlobe and tried not to explode.
Logan worked his way down my chest, stopping to admire each of my breasts, before continuing lower and lower. He gritted his teeth as he grabbed the sides of my flimsy panties and ripped them off. It was so sexy that I couldn’t bring myself to be upset that they had cost me fifteen dollars.
I was completely exposed to him, naked and splayed across the bed like a feast, and Logan licked his lips like he couldn’t wait to dig in. When he swiped a finger across me, my entire body shivered. When he plunged that same finger inside of me, my body clenched, and as he worked it slowly in and out of me, heat and pleasure soothed me back down. Within a minute, I was circling my hips, working my body against his hand. Logan added a second finger, and when I gasped, he growled.
He curled his fingers inside of me, sending ripples of pleasure I’d never experienced before, and when he hooked his thumb up to circle across my most sensitive area, I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming. All the blood in my body seemed to be collecting in my lower body. There have long been debates about the most important organ in the body—the brain, the heart—but I knew the truth. Logan was taking good care of what was, in my opinion, the only body part that mattered.
The third finger pushed me over the edge. I gasped and shivered through an orgasm, Logan never once slowing his pulses, until I fell back on the bed, my chest rising and falling erratically as I tried to regain composure. Before I could, however, Logan was hovering over me again.
“That was fun,” he whispered, pressing kisses to my chin, my cheeks, my eyelids.
“It was,” I agreed, running my hands over his chest. “But now it is my turn to have some fun.”
Before he could say anything, I rolled him sideways and hooked my knee over his hip so I was straddling him. I rolled my body over his, and Logan’s playful smirk turned hungry. His hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging into the skin so I thought it would bruise. Slowly, I eased out of his reach, hooked my fingers under the waistband of his boxers, and slipped them down his legs.
When he sprang free, my eyes widened.
I’d felt him against my leg and groped at him when we were in the closet at my studio, but I still hadn’t expected that.
“I’ll go slow,” he said, taking my awe for fear.
I crawled over him, my chest dragging across his as I wrapped my hand around him and leaned down to kiss his lips. “Please don’t.”
I sank onto him in one fluid motion, and we both cried out. Logan looked at me like he had never seen me before and then reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I leaned into his touch like a cat, my cheek resting in his palm, and we enjoyed the tender moment for a second before focusing on our more primal needs.
He gripped my hips and lifted me up and down, and I leaned back, palms resting on his thighs as he circled into me. Logan moved his hands up my body and over my chest while I rode him, enjoying unfettered access to my body.
“You are beautiful,” he sighed, his thumb flicking across my nipple.
I grabbed his hand and kissed his fingertips, sucking his finger into my mouth to the pace of my hips.
“And so naughty,” he said, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “You look so ladylike in those dresses. No one would guess what is hiding beneath them.”
I crawled off of Logan, and for a second he looked panicked, like he might have offended me. But when I propped myself up on all fours and looked at him over my shoulder, an eyebrow raised, his eyes were narrowed, scanning the length of my body.
“Lucky for you, you don’t have to
guess what is underneath them anymore,” I purred.
Logan positioned himself behind me faster than I would have thought humanly possible, and when he pressed into me, I fell forward onto my elbows and moaned. He sawed in and out of me slowly, making sure I felt every inch of him. But when I reached back and gripped his thigh, clawing at his skin as a sign I wanted more, he listened. Our bodies slapped together over and over, the sound filling my room and echoing off the walls.
The fire inside of me burned hotter and hotter, and I spread my arms out in front of me to cling to the comforter, trying desperately to anchor myself to the earth. And then, I burst into flames. Pleasure and warmth flowed through me as I rocked my hips into him and cried out into the mattress. Logan’s thrusts became purposeful, punishing as he neared his own climax, and then he was grunting behind me and slowing down.
When he slid out of me, he fell on the mattress next to me, his arm wrapped around my back. We laid that way for a long time, sated and lazy, looking at one another through the haze of pleasure.
11
JADE
“WHAT ARE you going to tell your dad?” Logan asked, rolling over onto his side and propped his head up onto his arm. He was still naked, covered only from the waist down by my sheet. I was considering never washing them again.
“About what?” I ran a finger down his chest, playing with him like a cat with a piece of yarn.
“Me. You. Us,” he said, waving a finger back and forth between us. “I was fired for being a total creep two days ago, and now we are…”
“Well, I’m not telling him about this,” I said, laughing. “But I shouldn’t need to.”
Logan’s eyebrows pinched together. “He won’t wonder how I suddenly got back into your good graces?”
I shook my head. “No, because I never told him you fell out of them.”
