by Lori Foster
“Ah, now that’s tempting.” He took her warm hand and relocated it to the tabletop. “But I still have to decline.”
“I could be a nice distraction.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Admiration at her confidence gentled his tone. “But it doesn’t change anything.”
“Tomorrow, then?”
He half smiled. “So you don’t just want to share a drink, huh? All right then. If I’m here tomorrow, feel free to hit me up.”
She flattened both hands on the table in front of him, bent forward, and said close to his mouth, “Be here.” And with that, she straightened and sashayed off.
Damn, but he enjoyed women. The more brazen and confident and upfront, the better.
“The other waitress was busy,” said that familiar husky voice.
Usually he liked brazen and upfront. This time, something altogether different appealed to him. Rowdy switched his attention to the redhead.
She plunked his beer down on the table hard enough to slosh some out of the glass.
“Thanks.” That she hadn’t abandoned him as she’d threatened didn’t really surprise him. Women could be adorably predictable. Teasing her, he asked, “Something wrong?”
“Not at all. Is there anything else I can get you—and, no, no innuendo, please.”
Her prim voice amused him. “Would I be that clichéd?”
“My apologies for assuming that you would.” She started to leave.
“There is one thing.”
Even over the loud music and drone of conversation, he heard her groan of exasperation.
Keeping her back to him, she stopped, inhaled and finally looked over her shoulder. “Yes?”
Folding his arms on the table, Rowdy leaned forward. “I need your name.”
“Noooo,” she said on a laugh. “You most definitely do not.”
Three women approached, stepping around her and crowding his table. Rowdy wanted to curse the interruption.
“Just a sec, girls.” Impatient, he stood to see around them. The waitress, checking in at other tables, was already a few feet away. To the ladies, he said, “Be right back.”
Not caring what they thought of that, he took several long strides and snagged the waitress by the apron tie at the small of her back, drawing her up short.
In silky tones, he said, “Now, don’t run off.”
“I was not running. I have work to do.”
“If you say so.” Still holding on to that tie, he drew her closer. “You may as well give me a name. Otherwise I’ll have to ask around.”
Losing some of her good humor, she stiffened. “Why ever would you do that?”
Near her ear, Rowdy whispered, “Pure, hot, male…curiosity?” The warm scent of her made his gut clench as he breathed her in.
That pushed her over the edge.
She jerked around to blast him with temper but went still as she took in his size.
Staring down at her, anticipation heightened, Rowdy waited to see what she’d do or say. He had a feeling she wouldn’t bore him.
“Good grief.” She tipped her head way back and stared into his eyes. “You’re big!”
Pleasure warmed him. She warmed him. “I think you mean tall.”
Still looking him over, she asked absently, “What?”
“You’re commenting on my height, yes?”
“Of course. You’re what? Six and a half feet?”
“Six-four. But as to me being big…” He touched her chin. “Wanna find out?”
She finally caught on, but rather than be insulted by his come-on, she laughed.
Laughed.
“That wasn’t a joke.” For some reason, the sound of her laughter turned him on more.
Still amused, she said, “Sir, you are too outrageous.”
Her mouth looked even sexier when she smiled like that. Such a soft, full mouth. No lipstick. Nothing to get in the way of a nice, deep kiss…
She waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you still with me?”
He was with her just a little too much. “Yeah.”
“Then perhaps you’d like to focus—no, not on me.” She nodded back at his table. “You have a bevy of women waiting on you, so we really should wrap this up.”
A bevy? He glanced back. Sure enough, his small table now overflowed with women—and it did look like they were waiting. Impatiently so. Not a big deal. He’d had females after him most of his life.
Let them wait.
But when he turned back to the waitress, she was already gone, disappeared into the milling crowd. Well, damn. He wouldn’t chase her again. When she came to bring him another beer, he’d get a name and take it from there.
Until then…he surveyed the women at his table with narrowed eyes. Even the brunette from earlier had rejoined them.
They acted warm and friendly—flirtatious women looking for a good time and a little fun, and he had no problem with that.
They didn’t really engage his awareness. Not like the waitress had. But for right now, for an hour or so, he’d take what he could get.
No, he didn’t forget about Logan or Pepper, but with time to kill, why not make use of the company?
Unfortunately, almost an hour later, it was a different waitress who came to offer him another beer. When Rowdy asked after the petite gal, he was told she’d gotten off half an hour ago.
She’d left without saying goodbye.
Playing hard to get?
He could play. He enjoyed a good game every now and then. He’d be back at the bar over the next few days, and eventually he’d find her again.
Putting her from his mind, he paid his tab, and amidst complaints and more pouting, he bid farewell to the lovelies.
As he went back out to the parking lot, he surveyed every dark corner, shifting shadow and person passing by. The caution was now an ingrained trait; he never took safety for granted.
He saw nothing and no one of interest.
Time to thwart Pepper’s annoying neighbor. Everything else, including cute waitresses, would just have to wait.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“OH, ROWDY, NO.” Distrust for her brother’s plan added a quaver to Pepper’s voice. “I can’t believe you’d ask me to—”
“Just keep him busy, that’s all you have to do. I’ll be in and out in a flash.”
Somehow this might backfire. It was dangerous. Too dangerous. “I don’t want to.”
Resolute, Rowdy said, “Do it anyway.”
With her heart hammering, she dropped to sit on the edge of the couch. “Please, Rowdy. Stop and think about this. There’s no reason—”
“I know what I saw, Pepper. You started this, so now I have no choice.”
Unfair! He made her feel guilty for making one small move toward companionship. “You’re a bully.”
“You have twenty minutes, so don’t leave me hanging.” He disconnected the call.
Folding her arms around her middle and leaning forward, Pepper struggled with a vortex of emotions—the guilt her brother had just heaped on her. Sadness, exhaustion at continued deception, a yearning for something different, something real.
She also felt sharp anticipation.
Rowdy wanted her to keep Logan preoccupied so he could put the GPS tracker on his truck. She knew only one way to truly ensure Logan stayed busy. Definitely not what her brother had in mind, but still—
Suddenly, as if she’d summoned him, Logan called to her from his balcony. “Sue?”
At the sound of his voice, her heart stuttered and her eyes flared. Logan! Had he heard her conversation?
For only a moment, she knotted her hands in her hair. And then, because she’d just mussed her ponytail, she pulled out the band and refastened the mass.
How much had he heard?
“Sue, are you all right?”
Enough to make him worry. What to do now?
Pushing away from the couch in a rush, she slid the screen aside and stuck her head out to the balcony. Standing
there with the blue sky as a backdrop, his dark gaze vigilant, he nearly took her breath away, he looked so good. Rugged. Sexy.
The same as always.
A little wistful, Pepper waggled her fingers at him. “Hi.”
Concern narrowed his gaze. He looked her over as if seeking an injury. “Everything okay?”
“Yes.” Think, Pepper. He’s going to ask, so come up with a story and fast.
“I heard you talking.” Logan rested his forearms on the railing, leaning toward her.
The positioning did interesting things to his shoulders, his biceps.
And her imagination.
“You sounded…upset.”
“Oh.” Focus, Pepper. She should have thought about their sliding doors being open. But until Logan, she’d never had to. Not for a very long time had any man showed interest. “No, I’m fine.”
He tipped his head, scrutinizing her. “You look upset, too.”
More like agitated. Where creeps and criminals were concerned, Rowdy was far more recognizable than she’d ever been. Anytime he showed himself, he ran the risk of one of Morton Andrews’s flunkies noticing him. Granted, Morton and his following had no reason to be around here. They were well away from his domain, but still…
“Sue?”
Think, think. “Are you ready for me?” That blurted question held very distracting overtones. Pepper prayed that it worked.
And it did.
Logan slowly straightened. “Ready?”
She nodded. “I’ve been thinking about…you know.” Sex. “I can come over…now?” So pushy. But thanks to Rowdy, she had to be. “That is, if there’s time before dinner.”
A new, hotter emotion replaced the concern in his dark eyes. “Yeah, you can come over. Anytime. I told you that, remember? Dinner isn’t ready yet, but I—”
She walked off in the middle of him talking. Now that she’d decided what to do, a pulse beat of anticipation expanded throughout her system, throbbing, curling in her lower belly.
Snatching up her keys and purse, she went out her door, closed it, and as she turned toward Logan’s door, it opened.
Sexual tension held them both still, gazes locked. They stared at each other as expectation built with every breath. She felt a little uncertain. He just looked turned on.
What to say, how to explain? “I, um…”
“C’mere.” Logan reached for her, dragged her into his apartment, and pinned her back against his door the second he got it closed.
“I need—”
His mouth on hers cut off her attempt to steer them into the bedroom.
Knees going weak, she let him have his way, relishing the damp heat of his mouth, the slide of his tongue past hers, the urgency.
He held her upper arms as he ate at her mouth—and she liked it. A lot.
God, truthfully, she liked him. How he seemed to care. His interest and patience and his keen sensuality.
“You’re a tease,” he whispered against her mouth, then kissed his way to her cheek, her throat.
“Mmm.” That felt so good. But she had to get it together. Rowdy would only be safe if they were off in another room, door closed, fully involved.
If he ever found out, her brother would detest her tactics, but too bad for him.
Putting her hands flat to Logan’s chest, she levered him back. “Bedroom.”
He pressed her shoulders to the door, his breath coming fast, aroused color slashing his cheekbones. “I like the idea of taking you right here.” He wedged in closer to her. “Like this.”
Oh, such a wonderful idea—but like so many things in her life, not possible.
Sad, she whispered, “I can’t.”
Butterfly kisses teased her temple, her jaw. “Tell me why.”
“I’m sorry, Logan.” Closing her eyes, Pepper swallowed hard and shook her head. “It’s either in the bedroom, right now.” A deep breath didn’t help. “Or not at all.”
She expected an argument. She waited for irritation, maybe even anger.
Given how wonderful he’d been so far, she should have known better.
His small smile personified sex appeal. “Then let’s go, honey. Right now.”
God love the man, could he be more considerate?
Logan caught her hand as he stepped away to lead her down the hall. Once inside the room, he went about closing the drapes without her having to ask. “Okay?”
That was so…sweet. When was the last time a man had been sweet to her?
Touched, her throat tight with emotion, Pepper covered her mouth and nodded. “Yes. Thank you.” And then, before he could steal the lead, she went to the foot of the bed. “Do you think we could try something a little different?”
The heavy shadows didn’t hide everything. Soon their eyes would adjust. She had to rush things—and honestly, that worked for her.
“Whatever you want, honey.” He moved nearer but didn’t touch her. “Tell me what you have in mind.”
Boy, it wasn’t easy to spell it out. She started with the first priority. “I need my clothes on.”
“All right.”
She heard the click of his snap, then the slow hiss of his zipper coming down. “You don’t mind if I get naked, do you?”
Her mouth went dry. Her heart started pumping hard. “No.”
“Thanks.” He pushed his shorts down and off, then kicked them away.
A hot, naked, buff temptation stood before her, waiting, expectant, obliterating her priorities. Pepper could hear him breathing, feel his heat.
Smell his unique scent.
Blindly she reached out. In deference to the dark quiet of the room, she kept her voice low. “Do you mind if I touch you a little?”
Replying in the same way, he said, “I’d prefer that you touch me a lot.”
Oh, yeah, she’d prefer that, too. “Okay.” Laying her palms over his shoulders, she absorbed the warmth of his flesh, the tautness of his muscles. Coasting down over his collarbone, she spread her fingers wide, dragging them through his chest hair to his nipples.
His breath hitched, and he shifted the smallest bit. “I picked up a box of condoms.”
His abdomen was nice and tight—the muscles getting tighter and more defined as she touched him. “Thank you.”
“They’re on—” he paused, shifted again, breathed a little faster “—my nightstand.”
“Okay.” With both hands, she held his erection. Her eyes closed at the feel of him flexing, swelling more. It amazed her that something so firm and solid could be encased in such velvety softness. Using her thumb, she brushed over the head and found a bead of fluid.
Logan whispered, “Damn.”
“Shh.” Enthralled, excited, Pepper loved the freedom he gave her. She explored his testicles with one hand while clasping his erection with the other. There was just so much of him to enjoy, so much—
“You’re killing me,” he growled. “You know that, right?”
“It’s just…” She wrapped her fingers around the base of him. “I love how you feel.”
Moving his hand over hers, he helped her to squeeze tighter, encouraged her toward a slow, back and forth stroke. After three audible breaths, he asked, “How do I feel?”
Incredibly sexy. Still holding him, Pepper sank to her knees. “Probably not as good as you taste.”
“Jesus.” He gave a ragged groan and widened his stance.
Sliding her mouth down along the length of him, Pepper savored his taste, the richness of his scent, how he flinched with escalating need.
Lightly, his hands touched the top of her head.
She could have gone on tasting him until he lost control—but suddenly he caught her arms and pulled her back to her feet.
“Logan?”
“How are we doing this, honey? Tell me quick, because I’m on a hair trigger here.”
Lost to subtleties and subterfuge, Pepper reached beneath her skirt to pull off her panties. “Get a condom.”
As if her word
s threw him, he hesitated, but not for long. They fumbled against each other in the small, dim room, Pepper attempting to get her underwear off without showing anything, Logan getting to the box of rubbers. She heard him opening the little packet, saw his dark form shifting, and knew what he was doing.
When he made his way back to her, she turned and positioned herself.
Bent over the foot of the bed.
She yanked up her skirt so that it bunched around her waist, then knotted her hands in the soft cotton sheets that carried his stirring scent. Firmly braced, she waited.
Other than the sound of his breathing, silence filled the room.
“Logan?”
No answer. But she knew he was there, behind her. She could feel him standing close, knew he tried to see her, tried to adjust to the immediacy.
If he mistook her intent, it would end, and she couldn’t bear that. Emotion closed her throat, thickened her words. “Please don’t ruin this.”
His hair-rough thighs brushed the backs of hers. “Tell me what you need.”
“You inside me. Just that.”
His fingertips trailed over the top of her behind.
“Logan!” If he got too familiar, if he explored her body, she’d have to—
Without warning, two fingers pressed into her.
The hot, slick intrusion wrenched a ragged groan from her.
He turned his hand, pressed deep again. Voice gravelly with lust, he whispered, “I want to make sure you’re ready.”
She was so ready that she just might leave him behind. Every breath grew deeper, harsher. He put one hand at her waist—not caressing or exploring, just…holding. Keeping her steady.
And with the other, he played her. Made her insane. Pushed her to her limit.
“You’re getting close,” he crooned, “aren’t you, honey?”
She should tell him to get on with it. She should direct every aspect, keeping him from too much familiarity.
Sex. That’s all it could be. Rushed. Impersonal. Anything more would be too dangerous—
He stopped stroking her but left his hand there, his fingers firm inside her. “Tell me,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Tell me you like it.”
Oh, God. “Don’t stop.”
Triumphant, he promised, “Not until you come.” With his free hand, he moved her ponytail over her shoulder, while with his other he continued to work her, his fingers sliding deep, twisting, finding hidden spots of pleasure.
