He released her hand and peeled off his jacket, tossing it on the couch. Finally managing to tap his inner reserves of control, he took his time with the buttons on his shirt. As each one came undone, he took another step forward, forcing Cassie to retreat deeper into the room.
Christ, she was a picture, tits high, completely nude save for a scrap of red satin … and those shoes. Logan had never been one to notice footwear, but suddenly he was very aware of how the shiny strappy heels looked paired with the rest of her clothes, or rather, the lack thereof. He’d thought the time he took unbuttoning his shirt gained him some control over himself, but looking at her was making the whole endeavor harder—in every way imaginable.
Once he finished unbuttoning his shirt, Logan spread the fabric wide. Cassie’s gaze roamed over his naked chest and abs. A surge of pleasure washed over him in the wake of her appreciative stare. Shirt off, his jeans were another matter. Logan undid his belt buckle, sliding the leather strip through the loops in one swift motion. He thumbed the button on his jeans, the tip of his cock just below, aching to be released.
Cassie watched him intently. He paused, fingers hovering over his fly. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, aye? Instead of undoing the rest of the buttons, Logan palmed himself and began to stroke his cock through his jeans. He was so fucking sensitive that the contact, even from his own hand, was enough to make his hips thrust forward of their own volition.
Cassie gasped, and he grinned. Feeling more like his cocky old self, pun totally intended, he undid the next two buttons on his fly and stroked himself again. She stared at his hand, tracking his movements with feverish intensity.
Logan reached out and grabbed her wrist. She looked up at him, cheeks flushed, eyes dark and hungry. He shifted her hand so her palm pressed against the hot, hard flesh of his erection, straining beneath the remaining buttons. He raised an eyebrow and tossed her challenge back at her. “Your turn.”
For a moment Logan wasn’t sure she would accept his dare, but then she laughed, a bold rich sound that made his balls ache and his heart skitter in his chest. Her fingers traced the shape of him, her touch tentative at first, gentler than his own. Logan groaned, and she stopped immediately.
“Don’t stop,” he rasped. “Please.”
“Am I hurting you?”
“Only when you stop.” He bucked his hips, pushing himself into her hand.
She tightened her hold on him and increased the pressure, slow at first, her strokes growing bolder with each grunt of pleasure her touch ripped from him. The muscles in Logan’s legs started to tremble.
“Wait,” he breathed, looking around the room. They were in the parlor of the suite, and he didn’t think he could make it all the way to the bedroom. He guided her to the couch, hands at her waist. Then he dropped to his knees in front of her, slid two fingers beneath her knickers and tugged. The slippery fabric slid down her legs. Logan gripped her now naked hips and pressed her backward. She fell onto the sofa. He yanked her knickers past her calves, over her shoes, and off—a flash of bright red sailing across the room.
“Oh!” The startled sound escaped her, quickly followed by a deeper, throatier, “Ooooh” when he opened her thighs and moved to kneel between her legs, pressing his mouth to her hot wet center. He licked and nipped and sucked, circling her clit with his tongue. She tasted so good. Logan slid his hands beneath her, lifting her to his mouth so he could taste more of her salty sweetness.
Her fingers fisted in his hair, knees locking on either side of him as she rocked against him. Tiny gasps of excitement told him she was close, the sound a siren’s song calling him to her. He wanted to crash against her, slam his body into hers. But he held on, determined to give her this first. He pulled a hand out from under her and slipped two fingers inside, matching the rhythm of his tongue, pressing into her, opening her, moving harder and faster until Cassie was moaning his name over and over and over.
Her hips jerked, and she screamed as she came. Logan pressed his free hand to her mouth, muffling her cries, while his other hand kept working her, his fingers not relenting, his tongue not slowing, not until he’d wrested every last quiver from her. At last she lay still, and he relaxed, resting his cheek against the soft curve of her inner thigh. He breathed in the scent of her, her dark curls tickling his nose.
“What are you doing down there?” She was still a little breathless, her voice both curious and amused.
Without lifting his head, he responded, his mouth brushing against her delicate skin with every word he spoke. “Och, now you ask me? You weren’t too concerned a bit ago.”
She giggled. He levered himself into an upward position, still on his knees between her legs. Logan tilted his chin and looked up, his attention caught for a moment on the pale swell of her breasts. She was so beautiful, so fucking lovely. He could stay like this all night, just gazing at her. Her nipples puckered under his stare and his balls tightened.
He licked his lips. Well, maybe not all night.
She ran a hand through the messy tangle of her hair. “Oh good Lord,” she mumbled, staring down at her feet.
“What?” Logan’s pulse sped up. Had he done something wrong? Had she not liked it as much as he thought she had?
“I still have my shoes on.” Her cheeks, already flushed, turned a deeper shade of pink.
He grinned and grasped a feminine ankle in each hand. “Aye, you do.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever done … this.” She waved an arm, indicating her naked torso.
“Ever?”
“I mean, um, not while wearing shoes.”
“There’s a first time for everything.” He winked and rubbed his thumbs along the leather straps crisscrossing her calves.
She smiled, the wicked smile he was learning promised good things for him. Cassie leaned forward, the curtain of her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders and covering her breasts.
“I was thinking,” she said, licking her lips.
“Aye?”
“There’s something else I don’t think I’ve ever done…” her gaze drifted down the length of him, the speculative look crossing her face again, “… while wearing shoes.” She reached for him, curling her fingers into his belt loops and pulling him toward her.
CHAPTER 12
CASSIE DOZED, HALF-AWAKE, listening to the rain spatter against the skylight. She rolled over, snuggling against the warm lump of Scot taking up most of the bed. After their first round on the couch, Logan had carried her to the suite’s bedroom where they promptly got started on round two.
Though the night had begun with Cassie annoyed at how she seemed to be the one always making the first move, things had changed quickly once Logan finally peeled himself away from the door. He may have been slow to get in the driver’s seat but damn, once the Scot decided to take charge—the man meant business.
She cracked an eye open and smiled at the tousle of red hair popping up from the nest of blankets. Logan had major bed head. Cassie was tempted to run her fingers through the wild mess, but she didn’t want to risk waking him.
Not yet. Not with the rain pitter-pattering on the glass above, making shadows dance over their warm, cozy cocoon below. The moment was too perfect. Cassie contemplated the pros and cons of spending her last full day in London right here in bed with Logan.
The only negative she could think of was food, but that’s what room service was for, right? They could order piles of scones with clotted cream and fresh berry jam. Her eyes drifted closed as she pictured a lazy breakfast in bed with Logan, licking crumbs off each other’s fingers before turning the pages of the London Times, which the hotel delivered to each suite on the executive floor every morning.
She had begun to nod off again, her mind full of the things she and Logan could do to each other with the cream and jam after they’d finished eating, when a sharp knock on the door startled her awake. Next to her, Logan mumbled something in his sleep, the top of his head disappearing completely as h
e burrowed deeper under the covers.
The knock came again, and Cassie struggled to unwrap herself from their bed burrito. She stumbled into the front room, yanking on a hotel robe. Quickly tying the sash, she peered through the peephole.
“Bonnie?” Cassie unlatched the security bar and opened the door.
“I’m sorry, were you still asleep?” Bonnie asked, standing in the hall in her fuzzy teacup robe and slippers.
“Not anymore.” Cassie opened the door wider.
“I need to talk to you.” Bonnie scurried past Cassie into the room and began to pace in a frantic circle, the stuffed teapot on the top of each slipper swaying like they were riding a tidal wave.
Cassie picked up the waiting newspaper on the floor outside her room and shut the door. She was about to take a seat on the couch when she recalled what had happened on that particular piece of furniture last night. She shifted course, choosing instead to sit in one of the low-backed leather chairs by the window. She placed the paper on the coffee table and waited for her friend to calm down, or at least tell her why she was agitated.
On her fourth circuit of the room, Bonnie paused. She leaned forward and reached for something hooked on the corner of a large framed picture—something shiny and red. “What is…?” she began, stopping when Cassie leaped up and pushed her aside.
“Nothing. That’s nothing.” Cassie yanked her panties down, cramming the satin fabric into a tight ball inside her fist.
Bonnie blushed as scarlet as Cassie’s underwear. “Oh.” Her eyes snapped wide, and she glanced around. “Is he still here?”
“In bed, yeah. Where else would he be?” Along with her panties, Cassie gathered up her dress and Logan’s jeans and tossed everything into the bedroom. The mountain of satisfied male hidden under the covers didn’t move. She gently slid the pocket door separating the sleeping area from the front room of the suite shut. “Come on, sit down. I don’t think he’ll be waking up anytime soon.”
Bonnie eyed the closed door. “It’s not really a big deal. I, uh, I can talk to you later.”
“Are you kidding? I got out of a very nice, warm bed where I was all snug and cozy with a very nice, very warm, very naked Scot. Now talk, don’t make my sacrifice be in vain.”
After a moment of hesitation, Bonnie joined Cassie. “Well, it’s about Logan’s friend.”
“Theo?” Cassie started, surprise making the question come out louder than she’d intended. Her insides raced. Did something happen between Theo and Bonnie last night? Oh my God, what if it did? She lowered her voice and struggled to remain calm, aiming for polite, but casual, interest. “What about Theo?”
“Never mind. I told you, it’s no big deal. I don’t know why I came rushing over here.” Bonnie tried to stand, but Cassie yanked the belt of her friend’s robe and pushed her back down.
“Unacceptable,” Cassie declared. “You do not get to drop a bomb like that and then run away.”
“It’s not a bomb!” Bonnie tugged on an auburn curl that had escaped from the loose bun on top of her head. “It’s just, I saw him this morning.”
Cassie cocked her head, not sure where her friend was going with this. “Where? Here? At the hotel?”
Bonnie nodded and fiddled with the dish of hard candy on the table.
Cassie wondered why Logan hadn’t mentioned it. Maybe his friend had booked a room last night after it was obvious Logan was staying. A twinge of guilt stabbed her. That had been rather thoughtless of her. Not once had she considered what Theo would do if his friend abandoned him for the evening. In her defense, Logan hadn’t seemed worried about it either.
“I stepped out of Delaney’s room to grab the paper, and a door across the hall opened, and there he was.” Bonnie’s cheeks were turning crimson again. “He was getting the paper too, and he was, uh…” Bonnie swallowed hard.
“Don’t tell me he was naked.”
“No!” Bonnie dropped the mint she had just finished unwrapping. It clattered across the table and bounced onto the hotel carpet. She hunched over and made a grab for it. “No, he was not naked.” She sat back up and stared at the candy, now covered in specks of lint. She picked at the fuzz, concentrating hard. “He was in a towel. And, um … he must have just had a shower because his hair was wet and there were drops of water on his, uh…” Bonnie stopped and swallowed again. She reached for a new piece of candy.
“Bonnie Blythe, I do believe you have a crush on him.”
“I do not have a crush on anyone,” Bonnie whispered fiercely.
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” Cassie grinned.
“First Romeo and Juliet, and now Hamlet?” Bonnie stared across the table at Cassie. “When did you get so well versed in Shakespeare?”
“Since I’ve been friends with you.” Cassie shrugged. “But if it helps, I thought that line was from Macbeth,” she admitted.
“Nope. Hamlet. And it’s ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks,’ actually.”
“Actually, methinks the lady is trying to change the subject.” Cassie watched as Bonnie organized the candy, separating the butterscotch and mints into individual piles. “When’s the last time you were attracted to a man? Other than Gabe, I mean.”
Bonnie didn’t meet her eyes.
“Bon?” Cassie placed a hand over her friend’s. “It’s okay to think someone besides your fiancé is cute. Hot, even.”
The mumbled response was too low and garbled for Cassie to understand. She leaned closer, squeezing Bonnie’s fingers. “Can you try that again please? In English this time?”
Bonnie squeezed back and sighed. She looked up. “I had a dream about him. Last night.”
“Who, Gabe?”
Bonnie shook her head, blushing furiously.
“Theo?” Cassie asked. She knew it had to be, but she was enjoying making her friend squirm, just a little.
“I’m guessing it was a good dream?”
“No, it wasn’t a good dream. It was…” Bonnie paused, blushing more furiously than ever. “It was wrong.”
“Dreaming about doing something isn’t the same thing as doing it.”
“But if I dreamt those things, it must mean I want to do all that … with him.” Bonnie pulled her hand from beneath Cassie’s and twisted the engagement ring on her left ring finger.
Cassie leaned back in her chair, considering her friend. She really wanted to hear more about this dream, and what “all that” entailed, but didn’t want to press for details if it was going to upset Bonnie. “Remember sophomore year of high school, when we had Mr. Getzl for chemistry?”
Bonnie nodded, staring down at the small diamond on her finger as it flashed in the gray light from the window.
“Remember the dream I told you I had about him?”
Bonnie stopped twisting her ring and stared up at Cassie, blue eyes narrowed as she dug through her memory. “You brewed a love potion in class, and when you drank some of it, he was the first person you saw so you pulled him into the supply closet and…” She dropped her gaze again.
“And I kissed him. Between shelves of beakers and Bunsen burners, I rubbed my hands over his bald, shiny gnome head and pulled him to me by that vinyl pocket protector he always had on and kissed him.” Cassie laughed, shaking her head at the bizarre workings of her fifteen-year-old brain. “So I kissed Mr. G in my dream. Do you think that meant I wanted to kiss him in real life too?”
“I hope not.”
“No. It was just a dream. People dream crazy shit all the time.”
“But this dream seemed so real. And then, I got out of bed to get the paper, and Theo was there, wearing only a towel, and he has this line of dark hair that starts just under his belly button and goes down…” Bonnie paused, her eyes going unfocused.
“Mm-hmm,” Cassie murmured, her mind immediately conjuring an image of Logan’s bare torso, buttons on his jeans popping open one by one, revealing the masculine trail of hair marking a path from belly button to parts farther south.
The carpet definitely matched the drapes. Cassie cleared her throat. God, she would kill for a cup of coffee right now.
She rubbed her eyes and focused on Bonnie. Her friend needed her help. Cassie tried to think of the right thing to say, not what Cassie thought was right, but what she knew would be right for Bonnie. She decided to go with an interview tactic she’d learned on ChiChat. Restate the facts.
“So, you had a hot, sexy dream about Theo.”
“I didn’t say it was hot and sexy,” Bonnie protested. Cassie pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at her friend. Almost immediately, Bonnie relented. “Fine. Yes. It was hot and sexy.”
“And then you saw him this morning, looking hot and sexy,” Cassie continued, and this time Bonnie didn’t argue. “After which, you pounded on your best friend’s door, even though you knew she was probably still sleeping, and probably still in bed with her own piece of hot and sexy.”
“That’s not fair, Cass. I didn’t know Logan was still here.”
“Look, I’m not mad you woke me up. I’m your friend—you need me, I’m here. But come on, where else would he have been? Last night you all but invited him up here for me. Thank you, by the way.”
“You’re welcome.” Bonnie sniffed. “One of us should be having fun, right?”
“You’re not having fun?” Cassie hoped that wasn’t true. Not on their big dream vacation.
“I am. That’s not what I meant.” Bonnie started putting the piles of sweets back into the bowl. “It’s just … I think it’s because I miss Gabe. I’ve been gone almost six weeks. We’ve never been apart this long before.”
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?”
Bonnie sighed. “I hope so.”
Cassie caught the note of worry in her friend’s voice. “You don’t think Gabe would…”
“What? No!” Bonnie shook her head. “Of course not. Gabe would never cheat on me. It’s just that, if I can have these … thoughts about someone else…”
Getting Hot with the Scot--A Sometimes in Love Novel Page 13
