by Lacey Alpha
He drags me backwards, leading me down the hall into our hotel room. Saying nothing, he continues to kiss me, pressing me against the door, taking the bag from my hand and chucking it to the floor.
“Logan,” I breathe and he silences me with another fierce kiss. I splay my hands on his chest, tracing his solid form, feeling like no one can touch me here, surrounded by his arms.
He starts tugging my dress up and I let him, lifting my arms so the chiffon skims over my skin, tugging my hair as he pulls it over my head. I'm pretty sure this dress is finally going to get the night it deserves.
Logan makes a low noise in his throat, his navy eyes scanning my lingerie. “Why didn't you listen to me sooner?” he demands, his eyes boring into mine, his hands either side of my head, pressing into the door.
I feel vulnerable before him in just my underwear, especially as he's fully dressed. I wonder if that's the idea...
“I can handle myself,” I insist.
He cups my cheek, kissing me over and over, running down to my jaw, my neck.
“Not with him,” he growls and I sigh at the feel of his heated mouth on my skin.
“He's just a guy,” I breathe, my breasts heaving as I pant.
“He's not just any guy.” Logan straightens his spine, glaring down at me.
My brow knits together as I look up at him. “What do you mean?”
He sighs in frustration then tugs his shirt off, scattering my thoughts to the wind.
“Bed.” He points and I jog over to it, more than happy to comply.
Perching on the edge, I move to kick my heels off but he halts me by shaking his head. “I want them wrapped around my neck in a minute.”
I inhale deeply, nodding, my belly sparking with desire. I reach behind my back, unhooking my bra and he nods in encouragement as I shrug out of it.
Bending low, he takes hold of my knickers, dragging them slowly down my thighs, skimming over my calves to my ankles. He kneels, gazing up at me as he pulls them over my shoes, his eyes burning with desire.
I inhale, my stomach muscles tightening as he lays a kiss on my ankle.
Taking hold of his belt, he stands, pointing with his chin. “Lie back.”
I quickly obey, my heels still touching the floor as I flop back onto the mattress. I bite my lip, glancing up at the ceiling, feeling exposed.
Kicking my ankles apart, he stands between them, taking hold of my waist as he lowers onto me. I gasp as he presses between my legs, keeping just on the verge of entering me.
“I want you screaming my name,” he instructs then plunges deep inside me.
I cry out, shutting my eyes as I try to bear the full sensation of his length reaching impossibly far inside me.
“Logan,” I pant, wrapping my arms and legs around his strong, muscular body.
“Louder,” he demands, slamming into me, sending pleasure scattering through me.
“Logan!” I scream, worshipping him, barely needing the encouragement.
“Let's see how flexible you are.” Reaching down, he takes hold of my thighs, dragging my legs upwards. I instinctively wrap my ankles around his neck and he grins satisfactorily.
“How's that, sweetheart?”
I shut my eyes, my body stretching apart for him, blowing my mind.
“Ohh.” I can't form a coherent sentence.
“Fuck, Darce. You can take it.”
I moan uncontrollably, his manhood driving into me, so deep I don't know where he ends and I begin.
I rake my fingernails up his neck, reaching into his hair and tugging as hard as I can. He responds fervently, sinking his tongue into my mouth and groaning in pleasure.
His mouth absorbs my cries of ecstasy, my body beginning to tighten around him over and over. He's slick with sweat, rubbing against my thighs, clutching me tightly.
I bite down on his tongue as my orgasm explodes through my body. He pulls away, grinning at me, picking up his pace and finishing inside me with a sharp thrust of his hips.
He sighs heavily then releases my legs so I drop them either side of him, utterly spent.
His weight spreads over me as his arms go slack, his fingers knotting in my hair. “You're something else.”
“Oh yeah?” I pant, smiling. “I always feel I have a lot to compete with.”
His brow creases and he kisses me softly. “There's no competition.”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise, my tummy swirling before tying itself in a double knot.
“I'm not sure how to feel about that,” I mutter, wriggling beneath him, trying to escape.
He presses his hips down, keeping me pinned. “You don't have to overthink it.” He leans down, kissing my cheek before rolling off of me and tucking his hands behind his head, stretching his torso until I'm completely distracted by it.
Clearing my throat, I gather a sheet around myself and slip away into the bathroom, needing a moment alone to recover.
After having a quick shower, I sink onto the edge of the large bath tub, dropping my head into my hands.
Why do I feel so strange?
I slowly run my fingers though my wet hair, de-tangling it, one snag at a time.
A soft knock comes at the door, snapping me out of my reverie.
“Darcy? You okay?”
I swallow the lump in my throat, standing and moving to the door wrapped in my towel. I undo it, gazing at Logan, my heart thumping harder in my chest. It's suddenly harder to breathe.
His eyes are intense and probing, his expression lacking cockiness for once. He's still shirtless, standing there in his boxers looking too perfect for words.
“Yeah fine,” I say, faking a smile and stepping forward.
He doesn't move, placing a hand on the door frame to pen me in. “I think we should talk.”
My chest tightens at the dreaded words.
I shake my head. “There's nothing to talk about,” I say lightly, ducking past him and heading toward my suitcase. Grabbing out my pyjamas, I drag them on, jogging to bed and climbing under the crumpled sheets.
After a beat, Logan joins me, turning off the lights as he does so.
Our breaths are the only sound in the room and mine are certainly more ragged than his. My fingers graze his beneath the sheets and I instinctively roll towards him. His hand tightens over mine, his thumb trailing up and down my knuckles.
I shut my eyes, focusing on the sensation of his touch. My whole body is thrumming, alive with electricity. I'm practically breathless just from the stroke of his hand.
He's getting too much of a hold on me. Maybe I should call this deal off. But hell, I really don't want to.
Tugging my wrist, Logan suddenly pulls me into his arms, my bare legs rubbing against his. I feel the heat of his minty breath on my mouth and duck my head lower, tucking into his chest. I can't help myself, drawn to his musky scent, the absolute safety of his arms. I raise my free hand, resting it against his abs, exploring, feeling, winding my fingers between his pecks. I run them through the soft smattering of hair there, trailing over his heart, feeling the soft pounding beneath my palm.
I sigh, letting myself get lost in his hold, forgetting everything but what I want right now. And knowing with absolute certainty, that that's him.
ADAM
Five years ago
Talent wasn't a word that anyone flung in the direction of the Chase family very often. But I knew better. Logan could take apart an engine, piece by piece, before putting it back together without so much as glancing at a manual.
And I could draw said engine in 3D, every detail, every scuff, every imperfection. I could capture it with paper and pencil like someone had taking a fucking photograph. Not to blow my own horn or anything. But yeah, I could draw. And I did so now, sketching out my future.
One day, I would build this house for Kira and I. We'd start a family, I'd have several children, many of which would be hot-as-shit cars that lived in my sky garage. Yeah, a fucking sky garage. I wasn't holding back. This house
would be the bomb. And one day, I was going to be able to afford to build it.
“Hey man.” Logan steps into the room, his ripped arms black with car grease.
I glance up at him, placing my pencil down as he sneaks a look at my drawing.
“I've got the new Fast and Furious on pirate. Wanna watch it?” Logan lifts a brow.
I'd been cold with my big brother for a while now. After I overheard him talking to Mum, I knew he was hiding something from me. They both were. And now he was trying to extend a fucking olive branch to gloss over the fact I'd barely spoken to him in two weeks.
“Na,” I grunt, folding my arms.
“What's up, bro? You and Kira break up or something?” He leans against the door frame, evidently playing Dad today. But we don't have a father. He'd walked out on us for some slut with two kids who he'd cheated on our Mum with. Apparently his own kids weren't worthy of his attention, but another man's spawn were. And that meant he was dead to us. To me and Logan.
“Na,” I mutter.
“Then what is it, 'cause I'm getting sick of the mopey teenager shit. You should have grown out of that by now.”
I grind my teeth together, deciding to get answers. “What's the pot, Logan?”
His brow lowers. “Huh?”
“I heard you saying to Mum you were putting money into the pot. What pot? What for?” I hadn't asked sooner than this because, something I had only admitted to Kira, I was afraid of the answer. Because I was fairly sure I'd figured out why Logan and Mum were putting money aside. And I didn't know how I was going to stomach the truth.
Logan sighs, bashing his temple against the door. “You weren't supposed to hear that.”
“No shit,” I say dryly. “So? Spill it.”
He sighs heavily, kicking the door shut and approaching my desk. “If I tell you, you can't go running to Mum about it.”
“Fine,” I breathe, waiting.
His jaw ticks before he finally answers, “My wages go towards your education.”
My stomach falls in shock. “All of it?”
“All of it,” he says through his teeth, clearly bitter.
“What the fuck? Why?” I demand, my pulse rising.
Logan shakes his head. “Because your this family's chance.”
“Your words, or Mum's?” I snarl but he doesn't reply, dragging a hand through his hair. “Dude, this is not okay. I don't need your money.”
“Yeah, you do. And you're gonna shut up and pretend like you don't know where your tuition fees come from, got it?” He stares me down, his gaze too glaring to hold.
“No, man. It's wrong,” I snap, pissed off as hell. Then a thought occurs to me that sickens me to my core. “Is this why you steal cars? So you can have some money to yourself?”
He shrugs which is all the answer I need.
“Fuck,” I exhale, leaning my weight back in my chair. “You can't keep doing it. I won't let you. I'll get a job and work my way through uni. This is bullshit.”
Logan stands, gazing down at me with ice in his expression. “Just drop it, Ads. It is what it is. And besides, it's like you said, I get my own money from stealing cars.”
He moves to leave the room, swinging the door wide.
“Until the police catch you,” I hiss.
He throws a cocky glance back at me. “Come on, bro. You know that's never gonna happen. I'm a pro.” He exits the room, leaving me with my heart weighing heavily in my chest.
My shithole brother has been looking out for me for a long time. I just hadn't fucking realised it. And the second I start working as an architect, I'll pay every penny back to him. Every damn one.
LOGAN
“I met someone. I think I love her, man.” Adam is high. He's always fucking high. Nineteen now, and broad as a soldier.
“Right,” I say thickly. Eyes firmly fixed on my laptop screen.
“Bro, listen.”
I look up and see me. I hate that I see me. But if he's talking about love, then maybe there's hope for him yet.
“I love her.”
And fuck, I think he actually does.
I wake with Darcy folded in my arms, the fruity scent of her hair filling my senses. Not wanting to disturb her, I pull her closer, sighing and relaxing back onto my pillow.
Last night was incredible. She has no idea how good in bed she is.
Unfortunately, Darcy stirs and the second she opens her eyes, she pulls away from me.
My heart twitches as I roll onto my back, letting her go.
“Morning,”I say as she sits up.
“We keep breaking rules...”
Her and her damn rules. Why can't she just chill out? Even fucking has to have stipulations when it comes to her.
I reach out, laying a hand on her bare back. But she stiffens, shifting away from me.
“I think it might be time to stop this.” She crawls out of bed, clutching the sheets to her chest.
I roll my eyes but am consumed by the urge to talk her out of that conclusion. “Relax, sweetheart.”
“Is that your answer to everything? 'Relax'? 'Chill out'?” She spins around, making a gormless face at me.
“Better than avoiding life altogether.”
“I do not avoid life,” she scoffs.
“Not lately...but you beat yourself up over this, don't you?” I sit up, tucking pillows forcefully behind my head and resting my weight on them.
She shrugs and I have my answer.
“Exactly.”
She tries to keep the sheet wrapped around her whilst picking up her clothes from the floor.
I fight a grin as the sheet slips forward, revealing her pale ass. “Why are you trying so hard to hide from me? I've seen every inch of you.”
She shoots me a scowl. “I don't want you getting any ideas.”
I release a slow breath, my anger rising. “So I should only be good to go when you're in the mood?”
She glances at me, clutching her clothes to her body. “No. But it's irrelevant anyway.” She presses her shoulders back. “This is over.”
I release a long breath of frustration. “Fine. If that's what you want. But if you try and get me to fuck you again, I'm going to be pissed.” I chuck the covers off my legs, standing and marching around the bed, snatching some clothes from my bag.
“That won't happen,” she insists as I step into the bathroom.
“We'll see,” I growl, slamming the door.
She's goes from hot to cold more times in a day than I can count. And I know she's going to come running back to me. No one can fuck her like I do.
No one.
¸.•*´♥`*•.¸
“What's your deal with Heathcote?” Darcy asks me after a tense few hours of silence.
I glance up from the book I'm reading on the bed, gazing at her seated on an armchair across the room. I grunt in response, not wanting to elaborate, returning my attention to the book. It's some bullshit ghost story I found in a drawer. I dunno why I'm torturing myself trying to read it. But anything's better than forcing conversation with Fort Knox over there.
Not my issue.
Not wasting my time.
“I deserve an answer. You're the one who has me sucking up to him. But yesterday you acted like he might hurt me. Should I be worried?”
I meet her grey gaze, sucked in by her soft, wide-eyed expression. My brow furrows and I snap my book shut, figuring I'm not going to get any more reading done with Heathcote on my mind. Any excuse not to continue that drivel anyway.
“He's a powerful guy, capable of some serious shit. So yeah, you should be careful. But I don't think you're in any immediate danger with him.” I swing my legs out of bed. “Unless you count the danger of him fucking you,” I mutter.
“And what if he did?” she demands, getting my back up.
I grind my teeth, not answering. It'd fucking kill me if she did that. And not just because I don't want anyone to have her but me. But Heathcote does not deserve to get his greedy fucking paws
on her.
She stands, glaring at me. “You never answer me anything.”
“I thought you had a rule about feelings.” I realise I've just given away that I care about her and bite forcefully down on my tongue. Fuck.
Her eyes widen and my heart starts to cave in. I stalk out onto the balcony, slamming the door behind me. That fucking girl. I wish I'd never met her. I can't deal with this shit.
I scrape my fingers through my hair, digging into my scalp. I don't do feelings. I don't even do seeing a girl more than one time. What is it about her that has me acting like the biggest pussy since Cats the musical?
Maybe Darcy's right, maybe it is time we cooled things off. She's never going to look at me that way anyway and I don't need the aggravation of this. I need to focus on the job and get it over with. Then we can head back to England and part ways like none of this ever happened. That was always the plan and it's about time I started sticking to it.
My brother's teenage words echo in my head. Get in. Get out. In fact, they were my words once, planted in his sponge of a brain back when I was an even bigger waste of space than I am now.
I inhale a deep breath of sea air, tasting the briny tang on my tongue, before heading back inside. Far be it from me to run away from my problems. I'm going to face this head on.
Darcy's standing in the middle of the room, looking as lost as a lamb.
“Call Heathcote. Get him out of the house. I'll go for the car now. Today.”
She gapes at me, her eyes refocusing like she was in a trance. “What?”
“You heard me,” I snap, brushing past her.
She catches my arm. “Wait.”
I glance back at her, my jaw set. “What?”
She releases me, looking scolded, the fight going out of her eyes like a snuffed candle.
“Fine,” she snarls, taking out her phone and dialling Heathcote's number.
I wait impatiently whilst she makes the call. It's go time. No more fucking about.
“Hi Ralph.” She turns her back on me, her golden hair whipping around her shoulders. “Sorry about last night...perhaps we could meet today?”
My hands curl into fists, my chest constricting. She just has to see him once more. Nothing will happen to her. I'll get the car and he'll never know she was involved.
