Hired

by Lily Harlem

  “What do you mean?” I sucked the taste of him from my lips.

  “When you say one thing and mean another it confuses dumbass hockey players like me, so just tell me straight, sweetie, whatever you want say it straight and I’ll give it to you.” His lips curled into a devilish smile as he sat back down. “Whatever it is, if you’re worried about something, if you need something, just let me know in real, simple language from now on, okay?”

  “I don’t think you’re a dumb hockey player.” I took another sip of wine to dampen the excited fluttering in my stomach.

  “That’s so nice of you to say so.” He grinned. “But unlike you, I don’t have any mind-reading powers.”

  I laughed. “I can’t read minds.”

  “Mmm, when it comes to guessing what I want I think you’ve been pretty damn accurate so far.” His brow twitched. “And I’m looking forward to much more testing of the mind-reading theory later on.” He held up his wine and waited for me to do the same. He tapped the rims together. “To us,” he said with steely determination in his voice.

  “To us,” I said, matching his smile and wallowing in the bright glow of hope that had ignited deep within me. The beautiful glow that burned vibrant and strong whenever yin and yang collided. Maybe, just maybe, Logan was the yang to my yin, my soul mate. There was only one way to find out, and it seemed he was as keen to discover our potential as I was.

  * * * * *

  The rest of our lunch conversation was lazy and unemotive, and with a lighter mood I relaxed and settled into Logan’s company. He was far from dumb, his mind was sharp, his sense of humor keen and he was current on all sorts of issues from politics to Hollywood movies. He was also well traveled, having played hockey in Canada, Europe and Alaska, and it seemed he made a point of being a cultured visitor as well as a sportsman when he took a trip.

  When we arrived back at the villa I was sleepy with wine and tired from the long, hot walk. The roller-coaster emotions of the last few days had caught up with me and the four-poster, nestled in the shade, looked very inviting as I stepped onto the deck.

  “I think I’ll lie down for a while,” I said, kicking off my flip-flops. “I’m tired.”

  “Good plan,” Logan said. “I’ll join you.” He held up his palms when he saw my doubtful face. “It’s okay, I’ll let you rest.” He grinned. “For a while, at least, because you’ll need your energy for later.” He grinned and disappeared into the villa.

  I stretched out with my head propped up on the luxurious pillows and my toes pointed toward the sea. My body felt relaxed but at the same time achy, as though I’d indulged in a rigorous workout at the gym or strenuous swimming—which of course I rarely did. A smile tipped my mouth. It suited me to exercise by having sex with Logan. I’d found my perfect workout after years of trying all manner of deadly dull classes. Classes that promised toned thighs and a flat stomach but quickly sent me scampering for a cappuccino and a doughnut.

  “What are you smirking about?” Logan asked, joining me on the bed with a copy of Hockey Today.

  “I was just thinking how good you are for me,” I said, looking up at him.

  “I like thoughts like those.” He linked his fingers with mine, drawing my hand to his mouth. “Do you think I’ve cleansed your aura?”

  “Mmm. Trouble is, some of the thoughts you’ve put in my head are downright dirty.” I twitched my brows.

  “Is that how it works?” He looked confused.

  I laughed. “No, not at all.”

  His eyes drifted to my breasts, jiggling in my t-shirt. The low, scooped neck showed off my cleavage and I wondered if he was remembering how he’d come all over me yesterday. My breath caught at the memory. It had been so hot so see him so turned-on by my plus-sized breasts. Breasts that had always been such a nuisance for clothes shopping and exercising.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, his gaze coming back up to my face. “Every last inch of you.” He licked his lips and his fingers traced the line of my t-shirt, coming to rest in my cleavage. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

  “No, not really,” I said, watching his finger dip into the cushion of my warm flesh.

  “Well, somebody should have every single day, because you really are exquisite. I could look at you all day and all night.”

  Reaching up, I curled my fingers into the softly mussed hair at his nape, pulled his head to mine and kissed him gently. I heard his magazine slide to the floor as he leaned farther in and opened up.

  I pressed my tongue into his mouth, he tasted of wine and the sea. I delved deeper, exploring, drinking him up. I could kiss him all day and all night.

  “I thought you needed your rest?” he murmured, taking his hand from my chest.

  “I can rest later,” I said, pulling back to look into his eyes. My body was tingling for his touch, my nipples straining against my bra. I reached for his hand, spread out his fingers and pressed it over my breast. Just feeling him through clothing had me catching my breath.

  He looked at my face. I couldn’t hide my desire, my lust, it was like another living, breathing part of me. I wanted Logan Taylor, now, and I was helpless to disguise the fact.

  The side of his mouth twitched. “You’re gonna tire me out,” he said. “I’ll need another holiday to recover.”

  “I’m sure you can handle it.”

  He slipped his hand down, tucking it underneath my top. He smoothed up over my warm skin until his palm cradled my breast through thin satin. “Mmm, I think I can handle you perfectly.” His lips hovered over mine.

  The heat from his touch sent sparks of arousal flying through my body. I pushed a lock of hair from his eye and let the blood pool deliciously between my legs. I knew Logan could satisfy me. I knew he had what I needed and so much more.

  A musical chime tinkled from the open doors of the villa. “What was that?” I asked, frowning.

  “I’m not sure.”

  The high-pitched sound echoed out again.

  “Maybe it’s the doorbell,” Logan said. “Perhaps Brick is early.”

  I squeezed my legs together in disappointment. “Let’s pretend we’re not home,” I said, pressing my palm over Logan’s hand encouragingly.

  His gaze narrowed and he sucked in one side of his cheek. “Tempting,” he said, shifting his hips. “But not very hospitable of us.”

  “Who cares?” I let my hand drift to the front of his shorts. His erection was there waiting for me, marble-hard and straining his zipper. “We’ll say we were walking on the beach or something.”

  Logan let out a tight moan and his eyelids fluttered shut as he pushed himself into my hand. “I don’t think we’ll get away with that.”

  “Why not?” I gave his shaft a long, hard squeeze.

  His breath caught and his jaw tensed. “Brick’s not known for his patience or subtlety.”

  “Hey, is that you, Phoenix?” A sudden, deep voice boomed from the other side of the deck. “I’ve been ringing the damn bell for ages, couldn’t you hear me?”

  Logan’s eyes flicked open and he snapped his hand from inside my top. He sat, spun and perched on the edge of the bed.

  I looked around his shoulder to see a giant of a man stepping onto the deck through a gap in the foliage.

  I straightened my t-shirt, pushed a hand through my hair and shifted so I was sitting higher up against the pillows. Dragging in a deep, calming breath, I tried to beat down the irritation bristling the hairs on my neck. Brick wasn’t supposed to arrive until later. He’d encroached on our precious time together when it was just about to get real good again.

  “Hey, Brick,” Logan said, remaining seated with his shoulders hunched forward and his forearms resting on his knees.

  Brick banged across the deck, his big sneakers loud on the softly worn wood. “I had to use the side path, I thought you weren’t in.” He grinned, flashing neat, white teeth, and held out his hand to Logan. “But here you are, lounging around.”

  Logan shook his te
ammate’s hand then turned to me. “This is Brooke,” he said. I could hear the discomfort in his voice.

  “Hey, great to meet you, Brooke.” Brick held out a hand to me.

  I studied him as he lifted my hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to my knuckles. He had tightly curled, blond hair, like a cherub, which looked odd on such a testosterone-overdosed man with a thick neck, almost thicker than his head, and a small golden soul patch under his bottom lip. His green eyes flashed and his brows twitched as he dropped his gaze down my body, settling on my cleavage and my erect nipples.

  I pulled my hand away. I knew when I was being ogled and I didn’t like it. Brick’s look was very different from the one Logan gave me. Logan’s was full of gentle admiration, he caressed me with his gaze, stroked my flesh with his eyes. But Brick just stared, licking his lips, and I imagined he’d be a kneader when it came to touching a woman’s breasts.

  “It’s lovely to meet you,” I said, getting up from the bed and trying hard to sound sincere. “Would you like a drink? We were just going to get one.”

  Brick raised his brow even farther and looked at Logan. “Yeah,” he said with a smirk. “If that’s what you were just gonna do then I guess I’ll join you.”

  “Beer?” I asked, ducking into the villa.

  “Perfect,” Logan said, clearing his throat.

  “Make it two,” Brick called.

  Chapter Nine

  I left the men on the deck catching up over a drink as I busied myself around the kitchen. Logan and I had lingered so long over lunch and ambled back so slowly it was getting near dinnertime. I’d had plans of building up our appetite further but Brick had put paid to that, much to my intense irritation.

  I took three steaks from the fridge, prepared a hickory marinade the way Aunt Belinda had taught me when I was eight and set about scrubbing baking potatoes and mixing up a cheesy, sour cream dressing to pour over them.

  “Hey, sweetie.” I felt Logan’s arms wind around my waist as he pulled my back against his chest.

  I tipped my head into the crook of his shoulder so he could kiss my neck.

  “You all right in here?” he asked, his hot breath trickling down my skin like honey.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “I’m sorry he arrived so early.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “I know, but I’m still sorry.” He gave a little groan. “But I think it hurt me more than it hurt you.”

  “Are you okay now?”

  “Well I was until I just smelled that delicious coconut stuff you use in your hair. Mixed with your sweeter-than-sweet perfume, it’s like the best cocktail ever and I can honestly say I’m in considerable discomfort again.”

  I spun in his arms and hooked my hands behind his neck, glancing out the door. Brick was draining his bottle and staring out to sea. “Is it really bad?” I asked.

  “Yeah, it’s really bad. So don’t expect me to have much stamina later on, not after I’ve been this hard for you all afternoon.” His lips connected with mine and as the malt of beer seeped onto my tongue, he pressed his erection into my stomach.

  “I may have to make love to you twice, or even three times to get it out of my system,” he said into my mouth.

  My knees weakened and I clung to him as sexy flutters spread in waves over my skin. “Only three times?” I asked, surprised by how husky my own voice sounded.

  “Well that’s just tonight, it doesn’t include the morning before we catch the plane. Maybe we ought to consider joining the mile-high club too.”

  “Got any more of these?” Brick appeared by Logan’s shoulder with a broad grin on his face.

  “Sure, help yourself.” Logan said, releasing me.

  “Want one?” Brick stooped to the fridge.

  “Nah, I’ve had my fill,” Logan said. “I’m gonna take off for a run.”

  “I’m making you a steak,” I said.

  “Perfect,” he smiled and winked. “I’ll only be half an hour or so, is that okay?”

  “Sure.” I matched his smile, I couldn’t help it, it was how he made me feel. Happy.

  * * * * *

  I put the steaks into the marinade and wiped the outside table, set out napkins and cutlery, three tall glasses and a jug of water crammed with ice, lemons and lime. The potatoes were in the oven, crisping up nicely, and I had no intention of cooking the steak until Logan had returned and showered.

  I picked up a small pair of scissors from the kitchen and wandered onto the deck. Brick was lounging on the bed reading Hockey Today and I walked past him and around the dense patch of shrubbery where I’d seen orange flowers. They had long stems and would be perfect in a vase at the center of the table.

  I snipped three, pleased with their scent, studying the delicate fanned petals and long stamen heavy with globs of pollen.

  I felt a presence behind me and turned, half expecting Logan back from his run.

  It was Brick.

  He stood, silhouetted by the sinking sun, feet apart and arms crossed. “Looks like you’ve done a great job with Phoenix,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, turning to the flowers again and wondering why his voice gave me a chill when the evening was so sultry.

  “He looks back in control, really relaxed.” I sensed Brick stepping closer, felt his shadow cool the backs of my legs.

  “We’ve had a good week. I think he is really relaxed.” I snipped another stem.

  “You’ve worked hard then.”

  “I beg your pardon.” I turned and was surprised to see Brick much closer than I thought he’d be. My nose nearly touched his t-shirt.

  “Fergal said there was a woman here taking his mind off things. Cheering him up. Getting him back in the zone.”

  I stepped hastily backward into the flowers.

  His gaze dropped to my breasts again. “You’ve worked hard, Brooke.”

  “I haven’t worked at anything, we’ve hit it off. Logan is a great guy.”

  “Logan, eh? Everyone else calls him Phoenix, you know.”

  “Well, he asked me to call him Logan.” I paused. “He’s more than just a dumb jock, you know.” I gave Brick the kind of look that suggested that was exactly what I thought of him.

  “I would have thought dumb jocks were right up your street, especially ones with six-figure salaries.” His brow twitched. “Ones who pay for services.”

  My fingers squeezed so tight around the flower stems I felt them crush then weep their sticky sap into my palm. “What are you talking about?” Brick was rapidly becoming my least favorite person in the Universe. His vague but unnervingly accurate suggestion about my initial financial reason for being there was too close for comfort. Far too close.

  “I’m just saying it’s nice work if you can get it. There must be a lot of job satisfaction for you.” He smirked and stepped even closer. “Satisfaction in every sense of the word.” Suddenly he wound his hand around my waist and snapped me up against his huge, hard body.

  I dropped the scissors and the flowers. “Get off me!” I squirmed, looking up at his boyish face. It was set hard as stone and his green eyes flashed dangerously. “You have no idea about my relationship with Logan, or what you’re talking about.” I put my hands on his chest and tried to shove him away. But he didn’t move, it was like trying to shift a mountain.

  “I think I do, Brooke, I think I know exactly why you’re here.”

  “No, get off me, I’m not interested in you. I’m with Logan.”

  “Oh, don’t be shy.” His brow twitched as one hand snaked up my spine, cradled my skull and his head dropped lower. “I’m sure he’ll share you.” I could smell beer on his breath. It wasn’t sweet like Logan’s, it was sour and ugly.

  “No.” I banged clenched fists onto his chest and pushed harder, twisting my head to get away from his face, his smell, his words.

  “Let me have a bit of what’s on offer,” he murmured a second before he pressed his mouth down on mine. Hard and
strong, his tongue flat and wet.

  I squeezed my lips tight and squealed deep in my throat, wriggling my body against his embrace and twisting my neck. But Brick was so strong and so solid it was no good. Even when I tried to drop my entire body weight he just held me up in the air.

  “Come on, Brooke,” he said, lifting his head a fraction. “There might even be a little extra something in it for you.”

  “Get the hell off me, you moron,” I shouted, drawing back my foot to ram into his shin. I was going to make him wish fate had never brought him my way, even if it did cost me my toes.

  But before I could release my anger, a sudden flash of movement roared from my left. Brick’s arms released me and he went flying sideways with a deep grunt as I tumbled to the ground with a yelp of surprise.

  My knees and palms slapped onto the sand and the breath was banged from my chest. I pushed hair from my face and looked up. Logan and Brick were tumbling in a lock of limbs and big bodies in the deepest, driest sand.

  “Logan,” I shouted, jumping to my feet.

  Like a giant, dusty whirlwind they toppled across the beach away from me. Arms and legs flailing and flying. Shouts, grunts and curses filling the air. I heard the sickening thud of flesh on flesh and air being forced from someone’s lungs.

  “Logan.” I ran toward them, my feet stumbling in craters of powdery sand. “Logan, stop.”

  The movements came to a halt as quickly as they’d started. Logan was on top of Brick. Brick was splayed on his stomach with his face pressed into the sand and Logan had twisted one of his arms right up his back in a very unnatural-looking position.

  “Get the fuck off me,” Brick seethed, squirming and twisting like a captured animal. “You fucking idiot, Phoenix, get off me.”

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t break your shoulder blade and then do the other one just for fun you ignorant piece of—” Logan snarled into his ear.

  “Logan, please.” I ran over and sank to my knees. I looked at Brick’s face, contorted in agony. His eyes were screwed tight and bubbles of spit sat around the corners of his mouth. His nostrils flared as he breathed hard and fast and hundreds of grains of sand clung to his cheek. I didn’t like the guy one bit but I didn’t want to see him physically harmed—that would be really bad for everyone’s karmas. “Logan, let him go.”