Anger clouded his features, morphing the handsome face into something distant and haughty. “You have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about, Blakely.”
I went up on tiptoe, covering his mouth with my hand, though there was no one around to hear us. But I still didn’t want my real name being uttered in these halls, where anyone could overhear.
He batted my hand away with ridiculous ease as his stare bored holes into my forehead. How was it that I always felt like the small and petty one, despite all his various misdeeds?
He jabbed a finger at me. “You need to stop throwing that in my face. I didn’t release that tape and I didn’t try to ruin your life. And for your information, I don’t have endless options. I’m in the same boat as you. I’m being threatened as well. I’m walking a really thin line here, trying to keep my father’s company afloat and meet the demands. I shouldn’t have you here at all. If the blackmailer caught wind of it, it could ruin everything. I brought you here because I wanted to protect you.”
That took the wind out my sails, effectively stymying my anger. “You...what?”
He began to pace the floor, hand combing through his already tousled dark hair. His loping stride reminded me of a caged tiger.
“It started last September, just after my father stepped down. He’d developed congestive heart failure and there was no way he was going to be able to keep up to the demands of the job. I took over his position, as well as my own. The blackmailer has shown me enough to convince me the material is serious but I don’t have details about the full content. I can’t proceed forward until I can calculate damage control.”
I braced an elbow against the wall, suddenly dizzy. On the one hand, knowing he could empathize with my plight made me feel closer to him. Made me want to trust him. The fact he was risking so much over an ex–me, an especially foul-tempered ex who’d made his life very difficult–made my heart flutter in a stupid, girlish way. It was short-lived, however.
Guilt and fear clamped my lungs in a vice. Guilt, that I was ready and willing to con him while he was suffering. Fear that he knew it. It was entirely possible that the same person was blackmailing us both. If I confided in him, would it help?
Only fear for my girls kept my mouth clenched shut. It seemed far-fetched that the blackmailer could find out, but on the off-chance, I wasn’t risking my girls.
“What are the demands?” I croaked.
Logan’s jaw clenched tight and he shook his head. “It’s not your problem, Mina. I’ll deal with it myself.”
I guided him to an armchair at the end of the hall and he sank into it gratefully.
“How did this happen to us?” I wondered aloud, settling on the armrest.
Logan rested his head on my knee and let out a rueful laugh. “Hell if I know. I’m supposed to be on tour, moving up the ranks. The company was supposed to fall to Chamberlain in case of my father’s death.”
“So, how’d you get here?”
His hand tightened on the other armrest, nails threatening to tear holes in the upholstery. “Fucking Scott Flemming. Caught him assaulting girls in the local Taliban-run town. I reported him for it. But he apparently had better connections than I did. I was discharged and shipped back home.”
I cradled his face in my hands, guilt intensifying tenfold. I’d known Logan most of my life and his staunch patriotism and love for his job had been a constant. Being out of uniform, especially after being kicked to the curb by a kangaroo court must have been torture for him.
“I didn’t want any of this, Mina,” he whispered. “This job. What he’s asking me to do. I don’t want my life being dictated to me.”
I wasn’t sure who he meant. His father, or the blackmailer. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. He had his back against the wall, faced with impossible choices. The desolation on his face was hard to look at, so I pulled him into a fierce lock of lips.
His answering kiss was bruising, and his teeth pulled hard at my bottom lip, demanding entry. He let out a soft growl when I didn’t immediately capitulate, his hand coming up to lock me into place. His tongue swept into my mouth, tasting me, claiming me, leaving me utterly breathless. Seconds later, he’d fisted the material of my dress, hoisting it up around my waist. He pulled me down to straddle his leg, and the desire to grind into him was overpowering.
I broke away from him with difficulty, sitting back.
“Come back here,” he growled, trying to use his grip on my neck to pull me flush against him once more. “We’re not done.”
“Not here,” I breathed. “We can’t do this here.”
He paused, seeming to consider that, and nodded.
Rather than wait for me to dismount and straighten out my dress, Logan pulled me up, slinging me over his shoulder like some damsel in a movie. I probably should have protested the show of machismo, but it was too damned hot for me to dispute.
Logan didn’t go far, pulling open what appeared to be the first custodial closet he could find. It was thankfully empty. I wished I could say the closet full of bleach and lemon furniture polish was the strangest place we’d ever done something like this.
“What are you doing?” I panted. “We have a room on the superyacht. We can just wait–”
“No,” he growled. “No. I’m done following the rules, Mina. I want you. I want this. Tell me you don’t want it too.” He speared me with a defiant look, daring me to deny him.
I slid onto a mostly empty pallet, trying to catch my breath. There were a dozen reasons to say no. Only one to say yes.
“I want this,” I whispered. “But I shouldn’t. I’ve already done too much. Hustler rules—”
Logan pushed the evening dress up around my hips. The material bunched like a flowing silver stream around my waist. His hand seized one corner of my underwear and with a jerk, the lacey black material tore.
“Fuck the rules,” he muttered. “Fuck your rules. Fuck mine.”
Then his lips crushed into mine.
Chapter Fourteen
Logan
If I’d been a more patient man, I’d have waited until we got back to our rooms. It would have been more comfortable, at the very least. But I needed Mina now, needed to be inside of her before I did something I’d regret. I just needed.
When I dragged Mina to the edge of the wooden pallet, she winced but didn’t cry out.
“Sorry.” I swallowed hard. “Maybe we should–”
“You walk out that door and I will pelt you with that lemon spray,” she threatened, glowering at me. She hooked one high-heel-clad foot around my calf and drew me closer, rubbing her cunt along my thigh, letting me feel how warm and damp and ready she was. She was teasing me.
Well, two could play at that game.
I skimmed my hand up the silken skin of her thigh, finding her wet, throbbing core. Deftly parting her folds, I plunged two fingers inside her.
Mina’s hazel eyes flew wide and her full mouth popped open with an audible gasp.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I growled, curling my fingers over her sweet spot.
Mina’s entire body shuddered and her head rolled back, exposing the pale column of her throat.
I descended on it, sucking, tasting, teasing her until she mewled.
God, I’d fucking missed this. There’d been a time when no room in my home had been safe. Between Mina’s coy smiles and tendency to flirt, and my insatiable sex drive, we’d christened almost every surface in the place. Knocking hadn’t just been polite. It had been mandatory.
“Ride my fingers,” I ordered, her earlobe between my teeth. “I want to feel you come all over them.”
A shuddering gasp escaped her. I could almost hear a defiant little quip forming in her head. To discourage it, I pumped my fingers into her a few times, massaging that spot, spurring her ever closer to orgasm.
“Oh fuck,” she breathed. “Logan, right there...”
“Ride me,” I whispered. “And you can come.”
Obediently, Mina’s hi
ps jerked against me, sliding the two fingers deeper into her warm cunt. I eased my own raging arousal, grinding it against her thigh as she continued to buck against me. I ran my thumb in small circles over her clit and she let out another whimper.
Her soft skin slapped against my palm with every thrust and she punctuated each sinuous undulation with a soft recitation of my name.
“Logan, oh God, Logan...”
She clenched tight around my fingers a minute later, an utterly indecent moan erupting from her throat as she came apart in my arms. I would have given fucking anything to be between her thighs. Mina’s cunt felt like fucking heaven against my cock. But I wasn’t a selfish bastard. After all the shit I’d been putting her through, she deserved to finish first.
Without giving her much time to catch her breath, I freed my cock from its cloth prison. The trousers were officially ruined, between the stain Mina had spread on them and the drops of precum that stained the material around the zipper.
Shoving them down enough to allow for movement, I pulled Mina to the edge of the pallet, pushing her skirt up and parting her legs so I had a view of her gorgeous, glittering cunt spread out before me. The urge to taste her was strong. But I didn’t think I could ask much more of my self-control tonight. I needed to be inside of her.
Sliding into her velvety heat felt like returning home. Though I’d had her twice in recent days, it didn’t feel like enough. Would probably never be enough. Whimsical and idiotic though it sounded, I’d known from the very beginning that Mina was what I wanted. After dating her, fucking her, loving her, I’d known that I’d wanted to marry her someday.
Because of the fiasco with the sex tape, I’d been certain I’d lost her forever. I was loath to be grateful for the circumstances that had brought her back to me, but a small part of me was glad for the excuse to keep her near.
I pistoned into her, reveling in the feel of her body pressed so close to mine. The sweet scent of her perfume clouded my senses, and for a stretch of time that seemed to last an eternity, I was happy.
How fucked in the head was I, that it took this to made me happy? There were some men who’d kill for my life. For the wealth, the comfort, and the security I could depend on. For some men, the restrictions placed on me by my blackmailer would have been easy to stand up under.
But I couldn’t be complacent. I wanted this. I wanted her, no matter what it cost me. I would rather fight, fuck, and flounder through life with Carmina fucking Blakely than live the cozy life set out for me.
Mina wrapped her legs around my waist, heels digging into my back, spurring me on.
“Harder,” she urged. “Please. Oh God, I’m almost there...”
I obliged, slamming into her in a rhythm that would have been bruising for many other women. Mina rode it out like a fucking champ, meeting me stroke for stroke until she came undone again, muscles clenching tight around my cock.
The orgasm crashed into me like a freight train. A burst of white covering my vision. My legs going weak. Pleasure tingling through me from scalp to the tips of my toes.
I realized my mistake about thirty seconds afterward.
“I came inside you. Fuck. Mina, please tell me you’re on birth control—”
“I’m not,” she panted, arranging her skirts into a more modest position. “That’s the least of my concerns right now.”
That didn’t make me feel a hundred percent sanguine. I was usually careful. Damn. I couldn’t undo what I’d done.
Mina made room for me to lie beside her on the pallet, leaning her head onto my chest. She climbed on top of me, somehow managing to keep us joined.
“Stay with me,” she urged. “Just stay for a minute, okay? I need this.”
And I need you, I added silently. Somehow, I didn’t think she’d appreciate the words if I said them aloud.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promised. And this time, I meant every word.
Chapter Fifteen
Mina
Sated, I reclined against Logan. His broad, marble-hard chest probably shouldn’t have been as comfortable a pillow. The wooden pallet wasn’t the same as a bed though, and I was pretty sure we were going to smell like antiseptic for the next month and a half.
I couldn’t find it in myself to be mad anymore. My firecracker temper had fizzled out entirely after our bone-liquefying bout.
Logan’s fingers traced fiery patterns over my bare thigh and the stubble that shadowed his jaw rasped against my throat in an almost ticklish fashion.
“Feel better?” I queried, a note of laughter in my voice. Semi-public sex had always brought out my more slaphappy side. He needed to get me back to the yacht before I collapsed into a fit of giggles. If our loud copulation hadn’t drawn someone to the door, my hysterical laughter might.
“Very much so.”
I shivered as his gravelly bass voice made me clench with desire. He’d feel it, and though he’d gone soft inside me, I knew he wouldn’t be for long. His refractory period was next to nothing, he could be back to fucking me in as little as five minutes.
“Fuck, Mina,” he groaned. “Don’t do that. I want to make it back to the docks before we do that again.”
“Sorry,” I muttered.
But it was hard not to think about. The sex had been as amazing as I’d remembered. I couldn’t be sure it was the best in the entire world, lacking anyone to compare him to, but I was fairly certain he had to rank among the top ten.
It was hard to tell just how long we laid like that, reclining on the pallet. It was the most peaceful stretch we’d had since colliding at the Ritz-Carlton.
His soft groan pulled me from my contemplation. His cock stirring inside me brushed against my sweet spot at just the right angle to make my back arch.
Distantly, my phone chimed and I jerked in surprise. My email. A feeling of foreboding chilled my skin.
I pushed off of Logan. When he pulled out of me, I whimpered at the loss. After what we’d just done, I didn’t feel whole without part of him inside me. Swaying, I nearly collapsed when my full weight hit my unsteady legs. Only Logan’s arms kept me from smacking into the corner of one of the shelves and knocking myself silly.
“It’s probably one of my girls,” I explained. “I need to take it.”
He didn’t seem happy about it but nodded curtly. He stooped to retrieve my purse and offered it to me wordlessly.
I took it, fishing around in the depths until I found my phone. It was an email. My heart stuttered to a stop when I spotted the header.
Urgent: For the eyes of Carmina Blakely only.
I’d only seen that header once before, and it had started this whole mess. It was foolish to hope that the sender would call this whole clusterfuck off after seeing what a mess I was making of things, but a girl could hope. I opened the email, bracing myself for what I’d find.
The message within was short and concise but no less brutal for being so.
Your lack of progress in our little con is disappointing, Hustler. I expected better from you. Perhaps you’ll perform better under pressure. Your deadline has been moved up to July 16th. Consider yourself warned.
Like the last time, there was no signature and no indicator as to who the sender was or where the email had been sent from. I doubted Tucker would have any more luck with this one than the last.
My skin went clammy and I could feel the color practically melt out of my cheeks. A scream built in my throat and caught somewhere around my uvula.
The kidnapper had only given me two months to acquire the money. Now four desperately needed weeks had just been stolen right out from under me, leaving me only twenty-five days to come up with the cash. I hadn't even managed to accrue one one-hundredth of what would be needed to pay off the blackmailer.
I wanted to rail. I’d been at this for a few days! How did this person expect me to pry six million from a man like Logan Farraday in so little time?
Dread held me in a chokehold. Would this be the pattern then? Ano
ther way to torment me? Consistently shorten the deadline until there was no way I could fulfill my end of the bargain.
I wasn’t sure what was playing out on my face, but it was concerning enough to make Logan pause mid-motion, his slightly dusty dress pants riding low on his hips, unbuttoned.
“Mina, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” I said, attempting to stuff the phone back into my purse. To my horror, I missed the mark and the phone went tumbling end over end toward the concrete floor.
With reflexes worthy of a major league ballplayer, he snatched the phone from the air and held it aloft.
My throat constricted still tighter, a different sort of panic making my breath still.
“Thank you,” I squeaked. “Please give that back.”
He frowned at me. “What’s wrong, Mina? This isn’t nothing.”
“It’s just a work thing,” I said weakly, holding my hand out for the phone. “Please give it back. I’ll deal with it.”
I might as well not have spoken for all the attention he paid my pleas. He raised the phone to eye-level, squinting at the message. His face went as still and stolid as the surface of a lake. It was impossible to read any thought behind the mask.
“Con?” he read, voice as stony and unforgiving as his face. “What con, Mina?”
“Logan, it’s not—”
“Don’t. Fucking. Lie. To. Me,” he snarled, anger whipping through his facade so suddenly it made me jump. My head knocked against a shelf, dislodging a spray bottle and a cascade of rubber gloves.
“Logan—” I began again, helplessly. “I didn’t want to...”
How was I supposed to finish that sentence?
Didn’t want to hurt him?
That was a lie. Part of me had wanted this to sting like hell. I was just the bitch to deliver some karma on his ass. At least, that’s what I’d believed when I’d thought he released the sex tape. Now, I wasn’t even sure about that.
Didn’t want to con him?
Burned Page 11
