Logan’s Need
Sloane Kennedy
Copyright
Logan’s Need is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Sloane Kennedy
Published in the United States by Sloane Kennedy
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Image: © Artjazz | Dreamstime.com
Cover By: Cover to Cover Designs
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Animal Planet
ESPN
Mercedes
SyFy Channel
Seattle Seahawks
Hyatt Hotel
Coca Cola
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Prologue
Being shot really sucked, Logan Bradshaw thought to himself as he parked his car. And not just because of the scar that now graced his right pectoral muscle where the bullet had ripped his flesh and nicked his heart or the other scar that ran down the middle of his chest where doctors had cracked him open to fish said bullet out and fix all the damage it had left behind. No, being shot sucked because now everyone looked at him like they were afraid he would break. His sister hovered over him and forced endless food on him – and not the good kind either. Nope, it was mostly rabbit food mixed in with the occasional exotic fruit that he couldn’t figure out what part he was supposed to eat. Logan wasn’t sure, but it seemed that Savannah had decided that if he ate a little less red meat and more green shit, then maybe it meant he hadn’t actually died twice before even making it to the operating room.
Having someone put a bullet through his chest also meant a stack of medical bills that he couldn’t pay, rehab he had hated with a passion and a physical ache in his chest that still nagged him. But none of that compared to the helplessness he felt at not being able to remember any of it. There was just a dark, empty spot in his life where he’d been alive and well one moment and gracing death’s door the next. Although saying he was alive and well was an overstatement – sure, the alive part was true, but his life had gone completely to hell long before the bullet ripped him apart.
He was nearly twenty-eight years old and all he had to show for it was endless debt, a burned out bar that he’d spent more than five years trying to get up and running, and a job that he seemed to be falling more and more back on as his need for money continued to grow. Being a professional escort was something he never would have even thought of doing until a classmate at the university he attended had suggested it. Logan had been finishing up his first year of school when his parents had suddenly died and he was left to care for a then fourteen year old Savannah.
He’d balked at the idea of selling his body for money, but when he found out that he could make the same amount in one night as he could in a month bussing tables, the decision was pretty easy. There was too much at stake to let the shame of being a prostitute, albeit a high-classed one, to get in the way. As hard as his parents had worked, there just wasn’t enough money to go around after their deaths and he had faced the very real possibility of losing his sister to foster care if he couldn’t figure out a way to make ends meet.
Even all these years later, Logan wouldn’t change the decision he had made. Escorting had let him keep the only family he had together and later it had given him the money he needed to buy the bar. But the bar was nearly gone now. His sister too, since she’d fallen in love with one of his best friends just a couple of months ago. Even all his hard work to give Savannah a safe and healthy environment to grow up in had been snatched away. In the cruelest twist of fate, he’d ended up bringing the danger directly into their own home when he welcomed his former boss and business partner, Sam Reynolds, into his life. He’d trusted the man, his mentor – had even teetered on the edge of considering him a second father. And he’d turned out to be a monster – a depraved force of evil that had raped Savannah in their own home when she was just seventeen and forced her to remain silent in order to save Logan’s stupid little bar, a run-down hole in the wall place he’d gambled his future on. And Logan hadn’t known any of it. Worse yet, his friends, no, his family, had kept it all from him.
Logan shook off the bitterness as he entered the hotel lobby. He was here to earn a few bucks so he could figure out how to get his life back on track and to do that he needed to play a role – sexy, confident, sex professional capable of fulfilling any fantasy. Truth was, he was dreading this job. He’d agreed to a request to be the third in a ménage for a wealthy married couple – something he’d never done before. Declining had been his gut reaction, but when he heard how much the couple was willing to pay, he’d reconsidered it, then ultimately accepted. It was three times more than he would normally make and the kicker was that there would be no actual sex – no penetration anyway. Apparently these people just got a thrill out of the idea of him watching and doing some light petting. It was a play it by ear kind of thing, but the one clear message that had him more pleased than it probably should have – no need to stick his dick into a complete stranger. He supposed that was a pretty clear sign that he needed to get the hell out of this business and figure out his shit.
Logan went to the front desk and got the key that had been left for him, then made his way to the room. The hotel was beautiful - one of the most expensive in Seattle - and he’d only been here one other time that he could remember. He’d dressed the part, black slacks and a blue dress shirt, but he still felt like he stuck out. He was blue collar all the way and whenever he put these clothes on, he felt like a little kid playing dress up.
Once he was on the elevator, he swiped the card as he’d been instructed to do by the front desk instead of pressing a particular button. Nothing on the elevator panel lit up, but it began a steady climb. There were no stops in between, no awkward conversations with polite strangers and that somehow made him more nervous. His agency always made sure the clients were on the up and up, but as each floor on the digital display passed and the elevator continued its upward trajectory, Logan couldn’t help but feel like this was some covert operation that he was on. When the elevator came to a subtle halt and the doors slid open, he was surprised to find himself not looking at a hallway, but the room itself. A swanky white and gold front parlor with marble floors and a couple of matching side tables with huge, extravagant flower arrangements on them. A single, slightly ajar door was on the opposite end of the small entryway so he stepped off the elevator, gathered his courage and pushed it open.
It was still light out enough that sunlight filtered in through the heavy curtains that hid the view of what he guessed was Puget Sound. It was a large living room with expensive looking, matching leather sofas and a flat screen TV above the fireplace that someone had turned on. The room was quiet in its emptiness, but his eyes had already found his destination off to the left – the bedroom.
A
s he neared the open sliding doors, he saw a woman sitting on the mattress at foot of the bed, her slim form draped in a dark green dress that fell well past her knees. His gut clenched at how beautiful she actually was – a reaction he hadn’t often felt toward his customers. Desire knotted through him as she smiled softly at him, her shoulder length blonde hair shimmering as she tilted her head in greeting. He stopped in the doorway and studied her for a moment, then felt an energy surge through him that almost knocked him to his knees. But it hadn’t come from her. His skin tingled as he looked to his right and saw the dark eyes that looked back at him, some emotion glittering in them that he couldn’t identify. The husband.
Shadows concealed the man’s features, but did nothing to hide the confidence that cloaked the large man. He was built like a football player – wide shoulders, trim hips, muscular thighs. At six feet, Logan was no slouch, but he guessed this guy was a couple of inches taller and significantly heavier, all of it muscle. He could see the outline of a hard jawline and the guy was either bald or had a buzz cut. His burning, intense gaze belied the relaxed way he was sitting in the chair – a king on his throne.
Logan forced his eyes back to the woman and told himself the sparks he’d felt as he took in the hard man’s appearance were nothing more than anxiety. The woman had been watching as the two men studied each other and when he turned his attention back to her, she smiled gently at him. He held her gaze as he moved to the edge of the bed and she was forced to tilt her head back to look up at him. She really was exquisite – porcelain skin that most women would envy, bright blue eyes with thick lashes, plush lips that he suddenly and inexplicably wanted to taste. Also another first since he didn’t kiss his clients on the mouth – work hazard. It was cliché, but he found it to be true. It seemed harder to keep the emotion out of a kiss then it did sex.
As he allowed his eyes to travel the length of her petite body, he held his hand out to her and gently pulled her to her feet when she accepted it. She seemed a little shaky as she stood and he swore he saw her wince as she steadied herself, but then the beatific smile was back in place and she sighed when he kissed her hand. He still felt the gaze burning into his back and the sensation of being watched made something deep inside of him flicker and then light up. His plan had been to focus on the woman and let the husband call the shots, but something dark went through him when he felt those eyes on him.
In the time the woman had stood, she’d glanced past his shoulder at her husband multiple times, not seeking approval necessarily, but seemingly to share what she was feeling with him. Whatever they were about to do, it was clear she wanted her husband’s full participation. With that in mind, Logan tugged her forward a few steps and moved behind her so that they were both facing her husband. He saw the man shift his position somewhat, making Logan guess that he hadn’t expected to be the focus of their little show.
“What’s his name?” Logan asked the woman as his fingers trailed down her side to settle on her hip, the soft green fabric of her dress dragging against his skin.
“Dom,” she said quietly as her body quivered beneath his touch. He let his mouth hover against the column of her neck as he asked his next question, his breath stroking her.
“What’s yours?”
“Sylvie,” she let out in a ragged whisper as he brushed his lips against her skin. She gasped at the contact and one of her hands covered his where it was still gripping her hip.
“Does he tell you how beautiful you are, Sylvie?” Logan asked as he let his other hand drift over her abdomen.
She leaned back against him, her lower body brushing his hardening cock as she said, “Every day.”
Logan trailed his lips along her throat and down to her collar bone. She was soft and supple beneath him and he automatically felt the need to be more gentle than normal. As petite and slight as she was, she also seemed to be just a bit too thin, frail almost.
The embers of his own desire were starting to take hold and he had to force back a curse when he felt one of her hands caress his thigh. Even through the fabric of his pants, the contact burned. But he could also still feel that tightening in his gut – the one that had nothing to do with the woman in his arms and everything to do with the man that sat watching them quietly. If Logan hadn’t heard his harsh breathing, he would have guessed him to be unaffected. But something was rolling off the man in waves – not jealously, no. It was need – raw need.
Logan raised his eyes to watch Dom as he brushed the strap of Sylvie’s dress aside. There was a harsh intake of breath from the corner when he did the same to the other side of the dress and it slipped off and fell into a silent pool around Sylvie’s feet. Logan never took his eyes off of Dom as he closed a hand over one of Sylvie’s generous breasts. The woman beneath him moaned, but it was the man who held his attention now because Dom had leaned forward when Logan touched Sylvie in such a possessive way.
Dim light brushed over Dom’s harshly beautiful features. Strong, straight jaw with just a hint of stubble, broad forehead, nearly perfectly straight nose with nostrils that were now flared as he ate in the sight before him. He was bald, but with a shadow of growth that Logan suddenly wondered what would feel like under his fingers. What the hell? Logan shook himself of the completely unexpected and unwelcome thought and forced himself to focus on the woman squirming beneath him now as he played with her nipple. He was able to see that her eyes were still open and still on her husband and he felt a momentary pang of envy at the obvious connection that ran between these two people.
“Does he touch you like this Sylvie?” Logan asked as he brought his other hand up to stroke her other breast. A whimper escaped her lips as she nodded and then she was lifting her arms so that they reached behind her and wrapped around his neck. He knew her position gave her husband an excellent view of the sensuous torture he was inflicting on her breasts. Dragging one of his hands slowly down her abdomen, he stopped when he reached the panties she was wearing, the move holding all three of them there in that moment of anticipation. Dom still hadn't said a word, but he was anything but casual now. He was leaning forward, his body drawn tight, his emerald eyes dark with hunger as they focused on Logan’s hand.
“Dom,” Sylvie whispered and then Logan saw Dom’s eyes connect with his and give him an almost imperceptible nod – permission. Logan worked his hand under the panties and brushed over a small nest of curls before he found the bud that was waiting for him. As he circled around it, he felt Sylvie press back against him harder and when he looked down at her, he saw her eyes had finally drifted shut and she was biting her bottom lip. His first stroke on her clit had her crying out and each subsequent press had her undulating against him as she tried to increase the pressure. His eyes returned to seek out Dom and he found the man standing now, although he was still by the chair. Logan couldn’t help but admire the huge man, his white shirt open at the collar to offer a glimpse of muscle, his black slacks unable to hide his hardening cock. He really was a good looking man, Logan thought as he began to mercilessly tease Sylvie with light and hard touches.
“Should I let her come, Dom?” he asked as he used his free hand to pinch Sylvie’s nipple.
Still no words, but another nod from Dom, harsh and quick. He was working the buttons of his shirt now and when he finally stripped it off, Logan felt a wave of heat go through him at the combination of olive-toned, nearly hairless skin and rippling muscles. The guy was built like a tank.
“Please,” Sylvie begged. Logan forced his attention back to Sylvie, breaking the eye contact with Dom. Her body was grinding against his and it was the first time he was actually worried he wouldn’t be able to control himself. Somehow, in just a few short minutes, this encounter had changed to something heavier than he had anticipated.
“Come baby,” Logan whispered against her skin as he worked her clit veraciously. “Show Dom how good it feels.”
She began crying as her body seized and then started spasming as her orgasm tore through her
. Logan stroked her gently as aftershocks quaked through her and then Dom was there in front of her, his lips closing over hers, his hips brushing against Logan’s hand as he brought Sylvie down gently. Her arms instantly went around her husband and Logan almost missed the warmth, but something about having Dom and Sylvie pressed against him as they made love to each other’s mouths had him fighting back the urge to wrap his arms around them both.
Logan let his hands drift down Sylvie’s sides and then froze when she turned in his arms to face him, Dom turning his attention to caressing her shoulders and back. She looked sated and happy and when she smiled softly at him, he couldn’t help but do the same.
“Will you take this off?” she asked as she brushed her hand over his shirt. As Dom’s eyes once again connected with his, Logan nodded. While he worked the buttons free, Dom held his gaze, his sharp eyes conveying no emotion. For some reason he couldn’t figure out, his fingers were shaking as he undid the shirt.
He opened the shirt, but didn’t remove it entirely. Sylvie seemed to notice his hesitation and gently placed her hand directly on his chest, her finger tracing the long scar down the middle. Logan’s eyes drifted up to meet Dom’s as Sylvie’s hand brushed more of the shirt aside so she could also caress the actual bullet scar. Her touch and Dom’s unyielding gaze were doing something to him – something that was scaring the hell out of him. Somewhere between walking through that door and this moment, this had stopped being a job for him and these two people had become his entire focus. How had that happened? How had he let it?
“We’re so glad you’re here, Logan,” Sylvie whispered as she continued to caress his scars. It was the first time either one of them had said his name and he both loved it and hated it because it was reinforcing the reality that his emotions were seeking out these two lovers – desiring them in more ways than just the physical. Something inside him that was knotted up started to loosen as the couple invited him further into what they felt for each other, even though neither one had moved. God, he needed this – them – for one night. It would feel so good not to be alone anymore.
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