Irreplaceable (Harmony)

by Angela Graham

  “You gonna come in or just stand there and stare?” I asked with a soft, seductive giggle. As it turned out, flirting when you had the sex appeal amped up was more fun than I’d expected.

  He looked up with the confident charisma that had wavered for longer than usual during his assessment and smiled.

  “You look…different.” He walked inside, squeezing past me when I didn’t move back. We were face to face, my breasts pressed to the chest of his wool coat, our bodies rubbing together with his slow steps…mine letting his know exactly what it was in for tonight.

  “Good different?” I took the flower and bottle of wine from his hands and swayed my hips as I sauntered to the kitchen.

  Logan followed. “You’re always good, sweetheart.”

  I glanced back over my shoulder to catch his boldly handsome face smile warmly back at me as he removed his coat.

  He was gorgeous—a true work of art—and for a fleeting moment, I wondered what his parents looked like. The shadow of his beard mixed with his striking features held a certain sensuality.

  I ogled him openly, taking in his nonchalant stance and roguish handsomeness. I noticed his light, wavy hair had been cut shorter recently, and the jealously exposed in my gut from wondering who’d had the honor of running his or her fingers through his soft locks made me shudder.

  His white dress shirt showcased the powerful set of shoulders hidden underneath, while his dark jeans hung casually around his firm legs. They were his wardrobe staples outside of work. He was a man who carried himself with a commanding air of self-confidence. I loved that about him.

  I grimaced, turning away to dig the corkscrew from the drawer. Not loved—it was one of the many things about him that turned me on, I restated in my head over and over again.

  Silence hung between us as I stood fiddling with the corkscrew in my hand for way too long, gauging the best ways to go about opening the bottle. The fact that Logan never said even a silly quip about my gawking added to the electricity sizzling between us already.

  Hilary always took charge of wine opening when we were together, and I didn’t drink when I was alone. The few times I’d attempted opening wine bottles, I’d destroyed the cork to the point that it had to be dug out.

  So not sexy.

  “Need some help?” His warm, minty breath tickled my ear, startling me. I swung around on instinct, forgetting about the weapon in my hand.

  He caught my hand, stopping the corkscrew from piercing his abdomen. His face didn’t carry even a hint of worry—only a smile. “I’ll open it.”

  Catching my breath from the adrenaline spike, I nodded and handed him the tool. “Thank you,” I replied, pulling back on a heavy, sultry tone. He gave me a cynical once-over, but didn’t say a word.

  “So, how was your day?” Logan asked, pulling the cork free with ease. “I see you must have been busy.” Two wineglasses were already set on the table, so he turned around, waiting for me to respond while filling them both.

  Things needed to remain focused on why we were there, no matter how hard my heart boomed against my chest. It was only about sex.

  I breathed a seductive murmur into his ear from beside him, placing silverware on the table. “Do you care how my day was?”

  He straightened and set the bottle down, but before he could reply I was across the room, ready to serve the appetizer: oysters.

  “Would you like one?” I purred.

  He eyed them curiously. “An oyster?” I caught the humor flash in his bright eyes as he asked.

  “Mm-hmm.” I tipped one back and nearly gagged as the slime caught in my throat.

  “You all right?” He strode toward me, patting me on the back.

  I choked down the filth that was never entering my mouth again and nodded. That was my first and last oyster.

  Brush it off and keep going.

  “You should try one. They’re…yummy.” I nearly gagged out the word.

  God, I was a horrible liar. And ‘yummy’? What was I—five? Even Oliver had a better vocabulary.

  “Never really been an oyster fan,” Logan replied with a knowing, tight-lipped grin.

  With a cock to my head, I whispered, “That’s a shame. I’ve heard great things about them.” I winked.

  Yes, I actually winked, and then ran my finger down his crisp white shirt, over the buttons I’d definitely have no for patience for later.

  “Sit, I’m starved,” I drawled, hoping he’d pick up on my double meaning.

  Logan must’ve picked up on something, because his palm shot out over my forehead, testing my temperature. “You sure you’re feeling all right?”

  My eyes squinted. I was going for sexy, but wasn’t sure it came through from the concern etched over his brow. I removed his hand, kissing the center of his palm.

  “I’m better now that you’re here.”

  He didn’t say another word, instead sitting at the table and picking up his glass of wine. Standing beside him, I unsnapped my top button to reveal some motivation and leaned down to light the candles.

  My arms brushed his, my body positioned at the perfect angle to give him an eyeful as I carefully lit two long, creamy candles in the center of the table.

  When I stood back and flicked off the kitchen overhead light, I heard him say, “Interesting,” under his breath.

  Yes, tonight will be far better than interesting.

  “I hope you like chicken.” I pranced over to the stove.

  When I set his plate in front of him, he caught my arm.

  “It’s fine. I think you know I didn’t come over for the food.” His voice was so raw and throaty I wanted to wrap myself around him and have him right there.

  Oh he was feeling it, all right. I sat and crossed my legs, tightening them together to silence the quiver of lust.

  Not yet.

  “I came to spend time with you,” he added.

  “You don’t say,” I teased, resting my elbow on the table and swirling the liquid in my glass.

  Dinner was eaten at a snail’s pace. Our eyes were constantly fixed on each other, searching and challenging. I wasn’t giving anything away. My lips nibbled the meat, my tongue playing on my lips longer than necessary to wipe away the juices. Logan barely touched his food, and I caught him shifting in his seat more than once.

  After I finished all I could eat—which wasn’t much, since my stomach was filled with horny butterflies—I set my fork down. Logan did the same and then leaned in, both elbows planted on the table, his fingers interlocking his strong hands together.

  “I have to say, I wasn’t expecting for you to be so…friendly tonight,” he confessed.

  “Well, despite what your big ego believes, you don’t know everything about me, Mr. West.” His eyes darkened at my use of his full name. “I have many sides that you’ve yet to see.”

  “It appears so.”

  I raised my brows, challenging him to dive in, and as I expected, he didn’t let me down.

  “Cassandra, you have until the count of five to either tell me what game you’re playing at, or I’m coming to get you.”

  My lips curled up. Yes, please come. I’m right here, waiting.

  I sat there waiting, and almost instantly he began the countdown.

  “Five.”

  My pulse raced, anticipation heavy in my veins.

  “Four.”

  I sat up straighter, my nipples hardening at his promising tone.

  “Three.”

  My mouth opened just enough to release the breath I’d been holding onto unknowingly.

  “Two.”

  Game on. I scooted my chair back and gave him a come-and-get-me smirk.

  “One.”

  Logan stood and I did the same. But to keep the upper hand, I ran my wet tongue over my bottom lip deliberately and raised my brows.

  “What are you waiting for? I thought you took what you wanted?”

  Logan’s lips attacked mine without warning. His stubble burned against my deli
cate skin when his mouth traveled down my jaw and then back up to recapture my pouty lips. His were as soft as I remembered, yet firm and demanding.

  His kissed was greedy with hunger and radiating ecstasy. My tongue traced over his bottom lip, seeking entrance, and with a panty-soaking growl, his mouth opened and his tongue met mine in a fierce battle of lust.

  Pulling back, I sucked in a deep breath of replenishing air, and then demanded, “Take me to bed—now!”

  A loud squeal burst from my throat when he bent down and threw me over his shoulder, just as he’d done the day I got hurt jogging. This time, however, he was ruthless—one hand held me in place by my calves, while the other slid up my dress and caught my ass in his grip.

  “You have no idea how bad I wanted to do that the last time I had you in this position.” He kneaded and squeezed, walking leisurely to my bedroom, then dragged me back down the front of his body slowly. His manhood pressed into my stomach as I stood in front of him, swallowing at the size of it.

  He noticed, and a cheeky grin crept over the lips that I missed already.

  “You should have seen what you did to me then. Why do you think I kept you up on my shoulder so long after we reached your porch?”

  My face seared as my arousal plunged to unthinkable depths. I’d seen him checking out my ass that day, but the fact that he’d been sporting an erection was not something I’d even dreamed.

  “I should have realized. I guess I still held out hope you were a gentleman in there somewhere.” With an innocent smile, I went up on my tiptoes and placed a wet kiss over his irresistible neck.

  “Always a gentleman for you, sweetheart. Only you.”

  “Shhh.”

  No nice words could be exchanged, or the heart I’d sealed up tight for the night would begin to uncover.

  I only wanted to prove this was all he really wanted—that he wasn’t my happily ever after, and after tonight, we’d both be able to move on. It was the best kind of closure a girl could get: closure sex.

  I silenced my thoughts as he kissed me again, my relentless hands tugging his hair, forcing him to remain quiet.

  My face angled toward his, my fingers sweeping deftly over his scruffy jaw. He caught my pinky in his teeth, causing me to giggle. My laughter was caught in my throat when he released my finger and placed lingering, open-mouth kisses on the tips of each digit, one by one. He didn’t miss a beat when he raised my hand, running his lips up my arm, his eyes holding mine in his steady gaze.

  I’d never wanted someone so badly in all my life, and the realization that it was none other than Logan who brought that yearning out of me was terrifying.

  “We don’t have to do this.” His mouth surrounded my ear, tongue flicking down over the lobe. My legs squeezed together, my sex clenching.

  Oh God! The surge of heat rushing through me and pooling between my legs was too much to bear. I needed this. I needed him.

  Without a reply, I pushed him down onto the bed and dropped to my knees. Logan raised his brows in approval, his lips pressed into a firm line.

  Looking up at him, I bit my bottom lip and let it slip through my teeth. "How long have you been hoping to see me on my knees for you?"

  His eyes were a shade darker and half lidded. “Cassandra.”

  “Shhh. Stop thinking. Just feel,” I murmured.

  His black boots smelled of leather. I undid the laces slowly and pulled them off, followed by his white socks.

  Gazing down at his beautiful bare feet, I smiled, my arousal influencing me to continue and eager to move on to the main event. Tonight was about fulfilling all the dreams of and desires for Logan I’d ever had.

  With zealous ease, my hands slid up his jeans and over his calves, resting on his firm thighs. His muscles clenched, building my confidence.

  Logan watched me with a stoic expression when I glanced up under my long, painted lashes and spread his legs apart slowly.

  I smiled to myself as his bulge greeting me, proud I’d caused such a reaction from him. Gingerly, my fingers slid up his leg and traced over his hardness, continuing to the button of his fly.

  I gasped, startled when he grabbed my wrist to stop me. When I tipped my head back to meet his gaze, my breath caught. The intensity staring back at me could never be matched. Heat prickled over my scalp, my cheeks burning under his scrutiny.

  “Tell me you really want this.” His husky tone was breathless.

  My attempt at a smile was in vain. He could see right through me, and I found myself lost in the depth of his gaze. The strength it took to stretch up on the balls of my feet was nearly painful, but I managed with confident grace to lean into his ear, the warmth of his cheek pressed to mine while my hands braced on his thighs.

  “I want this, Logan. And tonight, there is no place else I’d rather be.”

  Logan’s eyes glistened. In that same instant, he reached down and scooped me up by my waist, flinging me up from the floor and burying me beneath him on the mattress. His hands held mine, pinning them to the mattress above my head.

  “Tonight?” His teeth ground out the word, and I blanched. Before I could wonder if he’d read my mind or what was going through his, a flash of determination crossed his dark, shadowy eyes.

  “Tonight,” he repeated, as if testing the word in a new voice—a calmer one.

  He released my hands and worked down my dress tediously, popping the buttons open one by one, torturing me with the deliberately slow pace of his fingers. I reached down to help, but he grabbed both my hands in one of his and, after placing a quick kiss to my thumb, returned them to their position above my head. My actions only deepened my need for him, as he slowed with now only one hand to undo the exasperating buttons.

  After the final button, he looked up at me with a trace of the smirk I rarely saw anymore and released my hands. I remained still, anxious for his next move, but he didn’t keep me waiting for long. His fingers drifted down between my breasts and he lifted one side of my dress slowly, revealing the shameless corset, eager to finally greet him.

  “You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.” His hand moved slowly, undoing the ribbon just enough to reveal my breasts. “You don’t need this.”

  His delicate touch unraveled the seal over my heart as his fingers worked with tantalizing finesse, as though I were made of glass. When he finally looked up at me, his eyes were filled with a concentrated emotion I failed to decipher. A shiver raced up my spine and wrapped a chill around my neck. It was something much deeper than lust, and it frightened me.

  I squirmed, suddenly nervous. However, the moment Logan’s mouth covered my nipple, all insecurities flew from my mind, replaced with the numerous fantasies that had filled my dreams for months. Finally, they’d become reality.

  Logan’s diligent and skillful tongue was warm and wet. His other hand freed my neglected breast and presented it with the same amount of stimulating affection.

  His mouth released me after he’d had his fill and moved farther down, tugging the ribbon open, further revealing all that was hidden. He kissed as he went and stopped over my bellybutton, looking up at me with soft, unwavering eyes.

  I flinched at the tenderness they held.

  “I’ve never wanted anyone more, Cassandra. I wish you could feel how much you mean to me. How much I lo—”

  “Stop, please don’t ruin this.” The nerves were back, pushing through the lust consuming me. Why did he have to go there? This wasn’t about love. It was about closure—for both of us.

  When his mouth moved down and landed over my hip, I moaned a deep, needy purr. His tongue swirled across my abs again, circling my bellybutton and causing my hips to lift off the bed just enough for him to snake one hand under me.

  There’d been too many nights I’d lain awake, wondering what it would be like—what Logan could do to me. So far, my fantasies didn’t even touch reality. I’d expected for things to go faster. Mark had been my only lover, and he wasn’t one to waste time when getting things going for himse
lf.

  I couldn’t really call Mark selfish in bed since I had no one to compare him to, but the moment Logan unsnapped the first garter and slid my stocking down my leg, setting them on the bed as if they were irreplaceable treasures, I knew I was in for a night I’d never experienced before and never forget. He did the same to the other side and then spread my legs just enough to reveal the lace panties covering my smooth sex, glistening just for him.

  I waited, closing my eyes in anticipation for the moment to arrive—for him to remove his trousers and rest over me, pressed deep inside. But it never happened.

  With bated breath, I peeked open an eye and glanced down. He was on his knees at the end of the bed, staring up at me, watching me. The moonlight illuminated his face.

  My legs pulled together, insecurity and fear working against me. Am I not good enough? Does he not want me? Not again. I couldn’t go through the rejection another time.

  I sat up in a swift motion, but he was there pushing me back down, his hands on my knees, parting my legs further for him to rest between as I’d done to him moments earlier.

  “Stay there.” His words were nothing but a clipped rumble.

  My heart thundered, stomach churning until he spoke again.

  “You’re so perfect.”

  Perfect? I was nowhere near it, but I wondered if I was to him. The longer I lay there, the more anxiety riddled me. He stroked the back of my legs that hung down off the bed, but didn’t make another move. I needed to do something.

  I sat up on my elbows and raised my brows. “You going to make me beg?” I hummed.

  Logan’s mouth twitched at the sides as his hands ran up from my feet and over my thighs, where he leaned down and placed a slow, sensual kiss over my scar.

  He sat up further on his knees and whispered, “One day, I’ll make you beg, but not tonight.”

  The smile growing on my face couldn’t be missed.

  “Not before I have at least one taste, anyway,” he added under his breath.