Hired

by Lily Harlem

  The image of Giselle, all tiny and perfect, wagging her finger at Logan, sprang to mind. The girl looked sweet but she could bite like a pit bull, I’d seen her do it before. “She’s always looked out for me,” I said. “She’s all I’ve got.”

  “No, she isn’t.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I frowned.

  “You’ve got me now.”

  “No, I haven’t, Logan, you’re not part of my life anymore, you made sure of that, and…” I paused then spoke again in a quiet but firm voice, “If you still think I’m a whore I want you to leave right now.”

  “I know you’re not a…whore. Giselle told me about the deal with Fergal. How you were getting paid for a holiday, to be a companion and that sex wasn’t part of it.”

  “Well of course it wasn’t.” I rolled my eyes.

  One corner of his mouth tilted. “I’m glad it happened though, I’m glad you were there as my companion, like, really damn glad you were.”

  I pursed my lips and looked at my watch. Tried to ignore the buzzing in my belly at the memory of our naked time in the villa. “I think you’ve said everything you need to say now, don’t you?”

  “Not by a long shot.”

  “I have to work, Logan.”

  “Take your break.”

  “I don’t get a break.” I went to stand.

  He reached out. This time I was too slow and he grabbed my hand as it rested on the table, then tugged me back down to the seat. “I’m so, so sorry, Brooke. If you let me I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

  “You could never make it up to me. No one has ever made me feel so low, dirty and used.”

  The muscle in his cheek flexed and he tightened his fingers around mine. “What I did was bad,” he ground out. “But you’re not totally blameless either.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  He shook his head. “You could have just been honest. You could have just said that you were getting paid to stop me, to quote Giselle, ‘from drinking myself into a coma every night and watching reruns of old games.’ That way we would have both known where we stood from the beginning. All this bull about your dad being a friend of Fergal’s, it’s just driven me nuts wondering what else you made up.”

  I stiffened. “I lost both my parents in the car crash I told you my mother died in. So there was only the made-up father and really Fergal started that one, so other than that you got to know the real me at the villa. I didn’t tell you any lies about who I am or what I want to do with my life.” I paused. Logan had a point. I’d known at the time that I should tell him. The deception had hung over me like an ugly gray cloud, blotching my aura like an oil slick.

  “Look at it from my point of view,” he went on earnestly. “I thought I’d finally met someone who liked me for me. Someone gorgeous, intelligent and caring. Someone who knew me as Logan and not Phoenix. And then I find out you were paid to like me, paid to be with me. How used and low do you think that made me feel? I thought I’d been making love to a beautiful woman who was as into it as me and then I found out it was all an act.”

  I saw pain pierce his eyes. It stabbed my heart to know I’d put it there.

  “I felt dirty and used too,” he said quietly.

  “Please don’t say that. Because it wasn’t an act, you have to believe me.” A bubble of emotion popped in my chest. “I was as into it as you, and I do like you for you,” I said, beating down a thickening in my throat.

  “Just like?”

  “Oh, Logan.” I dropped my head into my free hand and blinked back a tear of regret. “We could have been so perfect together, but this is such a mess now.”

  “We can sort it out,” his voice brightened.

  “No we can’t, we’ve messed up our karmas forever.”

  “Don’t say that. You’re so good for my karma, you cleanse it, you know you do. You get rid of all those nasty black streaks.”

  “That’s auras not karmas that are cleansed.”

  “Well, whatever, all I know is yours is good for mine. I played better than I had all season with you in the stands. Did you see that shot in the first period? It was awesome!”

  I nodded and one corner of my mouth twitched at the memory.

  “I’ve still been playing well, but jeez, that game really set me back on form.”

  Glancing at Max I saw him glaring at me with his hands on his hips.

  “Please, Brooke,” Logan said, leaning in and lowering his voice. “Come with me. Come with me now to my place, move in while you do your nurse training and let me look after you. I’ve got a huge house to rattle around in, plenty of money—”

  “I don’t need your money,” I said quickly.

  He sighed and looked down at the table. “I know you don’t, and I didn’t mean look after you like that although of course I want to.” He smoothed his thumb over my knuckles so softly it was as if butterflies had landed there. “I meant let me rub your feet when they ache after a shift on the ward, let me bring you coffee and cake when you’re studying.” He looked up and smiled. “Let me take you to the beach for picnics on your days off so we can swim naked in the sea again.”

  His gaze lowered to my lips and it took every ounce of self-discipline I possessed to stop myself from leaning over and kissing him. I so wanted to swim naked in the sea with him again. I wanted to let him look after me more than I wanted to do anything else in the world.

  “Tell me you haven’t missed me touching you, holding you, kissing you and I’ll walk away.” He looked deep into my eyes and his jaw tensed. “But say it like you mean it, Brooke, ’cause you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time and I’m not going to let you go unless I’m sure there’s nothing left to repair.”

  I swallowed. We’d both been wrong, I could see that now. I’d hurt him too. I knew I was softening because when I was with Logan I was happy. It was as if my soul was complete, when I wasn’t with Logan I was miserable, I could barely function. I missed his kisses and caresses, but I also missed his smell, his taste and the way he tried so hard not to curse when I was within earshot. I missed the way his gaze followed me as I walked around a room and the sound of hockey on the TV. I missed knowing he was there if I stood on another anemone and needed carrying home.

  “Brooke.” He reached forward and with the crook of his index finger tilted my chin. His gaze bored into mine and his brows lowered. “I love you so much, sweetie, more than anyone else ever could,” he said quietly. “Please, give us another chance to get it right.”

  A sob erupted from my chest and gurgled up to my throat. I stood and leaned over the table. My arms reached out and my heart swelled as he came toward me and we met over the table. The peak of his cap bumped my head, our lips meshed and I clung to his shoulders as though I was clinging to life itself.

  He threaded his fingers into my hair and groaned as his tongue dipped into my mouth. His stubbled chin scratched mine and his hot, malty taste took me back to the villa. “I love you too,” I managed to squeak into his mouth. He responded with a kiss so passionate I thought he might pull me over the table and strip me naked right there and then.

  “Brooke, what the hell do you think I’m paying you good dollars for?” Max’s voice suddenly boomed in my ear.

  Our kiss broke. I turned to Max, who was beet faced and hopping on the spot next to our table.

  “There’s tables to serve for crying out loud,” Max bellowed at me. “A stack of drinks to be poured and the kitchen needs…” His gaze swung from me to Logan. His mouth stilled then hung open like a goldfish. “Oh…I…er, Mr. Phoenix.” His eyes widened and his body froze, except for his hands, which wrung around the cloth he was holding faster than a spin dryer.

  Logan curled his fingers with mine and stepped out of the booth, tugging me with him. I was aware of the din of the restaurant softening as people turned to look at us, their attention caught at first by Max’s outburst and now by the famous hockey player standing in
their midst.

  “I’m sorry, Mister…?” Logan asked, holding out his hand.

  Max tipped his neck back. “Mr. Crowther. Max Crowther. Proprietor of The Grill.” He took Logan’s hand.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Logan said, shaking his hand. “Great place.”

  Max stared up. “Thanks, thanks a lot. Have you eaten yet? You want our special? On the house, of course, gotta keep your strength up for the big game Saturday.”

  “Very kind of you,” Logan said. “Another time perhaps. I’ve already got what I came for today.” He looked down at me and his eyes sparkled. “Brooke is going to be taking some time off.”

  “But she’s one of my best waitresses,” Max said, shocked. “Reliable, considerate…”

  “Exactly, which is why she’s wasted serving up burgers and beers.” Logan took off his Vipers cap and dropped it onto Max’s head. Then he stooped, tucked one hand behind my knees, the other around my waist and swung me into his arms the way he had on the beach.

  “Logan,” I gasped, curling my arms around his neck. “I can’t just leave.”

  “Sure you can.”

  “But…” My gaze swung around the full tables and the wide eyes directed at us.

  “You can manage fine, can’t you Mr. Crowther?” Logan asked, looking down at Max.

  “Er…well.” Max touched the cap on his head as though it was treasure.

  “Can’t you?” Logan said, quieter but with a distinct tone of menace.

  “Absolutely, whatever you say, Phoenix. We can manage just fine.” Max’s mouth stretched into a wide grin and he bobbed his head so much his jowls wobbled like a bulldog’s. “Off you go, Brooke, see you soon.”

  Logan pressed a quick kiss to my lips then strode toward the door.

  “Just make sure you hit the back of the net again this week,” Max shouted after us.

  “I will, now that my aura’s gonna be well and truly cleansed,” Logan said quietly into my ear.

  I giggled, burying my head into his neck and pulling in the divine scent of his skin. Shirley opened the door and as we passed through it the whole place erupted into a riot of applause.

  Logan paced across the lot toward a huge, shiny black truck with tinted windows. He tugged open the passenger door and slid me in. Within a minute of leaving the restaurant he’d fired the engine, shoved it into drive and we were pulling onto the highway.

  I looked across at his profile as the air-conditioning blew to life. He had a white-knuckle death grip on the steering wheel, his mouth was set hard and tight and he was staring straight ahead, barely blinking.

  “Logan, what’s the matter?” I asked.

  “It’s forty minutes to my place,” he said, squinting his eyes and gritting his teeth.

  “That’s okay,” I said, loosening my seat belt and moving along the bench so I was pressed against his side.

  “No, it’s not.” I spotted the little muscle in his jaw flexing at supersonic speed.

  “Why, what on earth’s the matter?” I let my body lean against his and absorbed his heat, stroked my hand along the dark hairs on his thick forearm.

  “Because.” He shifted on the seat. “All I can think about is getting you naked, getting inside you, holding you, kissing you, never letting you go again, and driving is not enough of a distraction, not by a long shot.”

  I glanced down at the impressive bulge in his jeans. “Mmm,” I said. “Want me to help you out with that dilemma?” I licked my lips and twitched my brows.

  “Not a good an idea on the interstate,” he said in a strained voice as he stared at my mouth as if he actually wanted to eat it.

  I reached for the bottom of his t-shirt and lifted it to expose his fly buttons. “So pull off somewhere if you can’t wait.” I touched his belly and the muscles tensed. Let my finger tickle from his navel to his waistband and popped the top button as I nuzzled into his neck and kissed and licked his warm skin. He tasted divine, like cinnamon sticks floating in mulled wine, toffee at a bonfire.

  He let out a groan and stared at the road.

  I undid the next button and let the back of my hand brush his steely erection through the denim.

  “Ah, shit,” he said then looked at me. “Sorry.”

  The next thing I knew, the truck took a hard right off the interstate. I clung to his biceps to stop from sliding down the long bench seat.

  “Where are we going?” I glanced out the window at a quiet back lane. I could just make out a sparkling stretch of water in the distance.

  “Detour.”

  “A good detour?” I resumed undoing his fly.

  “Hell yeah.”

  I wriggled down the bench, dropped my head into his lap and freed his cock into my palm. It jutted forward from his tangle of dark pubic hair and I wrapped my fist around the thick circumference and gave a firm squeeze.

  He snatched in a breath and his thighs tensed to marble. “Be careful with that, sweetie, it’s had a few weeks just thinking about you, could go off anytime.”

  “Perfect,” I muttered. My mouth was watering, saliva had pooled in my cheeks, waiting to lubricate his shaft. I stretched open my jaw and in one deep mouthful took him to the back of my throat.

  “Ah, yes,” he hissed above me.

  The truck motored on. When we went over a bump, he thrust his hips upward and the head of his cock butted even harder against my throat. Greedily I sucked in his flavor, musky and spiced with a hint of salt. He tasted so good, even better than I remembered. I slid back up, swirled my tongue around the ridge of the head and grasped his shaft in my fist once again. I dipped into his slit and delighted in the creamy drop I was able to capture on the tip of my tongue.

  “Shit, I can’t drive while you do this to me,” he grunted. I heard the crunch of gravel and my body pressed against the back of the seat as the truck skidded to a halt.

  The next thing I knew, my seat belt was off and I was on my back. Logan loomed over me.

  “What the hell,” he said. “There’s no one else in this old parking lot and I’ve got tinted windows.” He kissed me, hard and desperate. His hands were everywhere, as if he didn’t know which bit of me to touch first. He ripped at my blouse, sending buttons pinging around the dash. Dragged at the cotton and buried his face in my cleavage, dipping his fingers into the lace edge of my bra. “Oh, how I’ve missed being here,” he muttered, pulling my nipple into his mouth through the thin silk of my bra cup.

  I ran my hand through his tousled hair and arched into his suckling, shifting my thighs so he could settle between them and letting out a groan as his hard cock jutted at my mound through my clothes.

  His hands roamed down my thighs and he yanked up my skirt, lifting his weight for a second to push it right up around my belly in a ruck of material. I heard ripping, and without looking knew another pair of panties had met their final day.

  “You’re gonna have to start replacing my underwear,” I said breathlessly.

  “It’s not worth wearing when I’m around,” he growled. He reached for the glove box, dropped it open and pulled out a plus-sized box of condoms.

  “You were feeling lucky,” I said as he flipped the lid and pulled one out.

  He looked down at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “I hoped I’d get lucky. I hoped I’d be the luckiest guy on the planet and get you to come home with me, but I wasn’t banking on it, and for a moment back there I thought I had no chance.” His lips hovered over mine. “I thought I’d never have a moment like this with you again and that thought was just too damn painful to imagine.”

  He sat up and rolled the condom down his shaft. My heart was bursting with love and my soul ached to be joined with his. He positioned his erection at my entrance and I squirmed impatiently, desperate for the action to start.

  He dropped over me and our mouths devoured one another as his hips curled under. He penetrated me until his balls were riding up against my butt cheeks. I moaned into his mouth as he moaned into mine. The sound was abandoned,
wild and extended. Even though he was as high as he could go he kept on rocking his pelvis into me, drawing out my clit from its hood and rubbing at the needy nub.

  “Logan, oh, Logan,” I cried as he tore his lips from mine and kissed my eyelids, my cheek, a sensitive spot below my left ear. I managed to get my legs around his waist within the confines of the truck and arched toward him as he rocked up against me harder and faster. “I’ve missed you so much. You feel so good,” I panted, feeling the first tug of orgasm. What he was doing with his hips was wicked, unfair. I had no chance of waiting for him.

  “So do you, sweetie. So hot, so wet and so damn soft,” he whispered into my ear. “I want to stay here forever, it’s where I belong.”

  “Yes, yes,” I said. And as I exploded into a swirling mass of ecstasy I felt Logan erupt too. His cock went so hard and rammed so high I felt beyond full. My internal muscles contracted wildly around him, squeezing and spasming, pulsing and throbbing.

  He continued with his powerful rocking, eking out our pleasure. Feelings so much more than physical washed through me. Yang had found yin, karmic balance had been restored, and our auras had been well and truly cleansed. Logan “Phoenix” Taylor was everything I needed in my life and then so much more. Thank goodness destiny had hired me for the job of loving him.

  The End

  About the Author

  Lily Harlem lives in the UK with a workaholic hunk and a crazy cat. With a desk overlooking farmland, she allows her imagination to run free and revels in being able to use the written word as an outlet for her creativity. Lily’s stories are made up of colorful characters traveling on everyone’s favorite journey — falling in love. If the story isn’t romantic, sexy and exciting, it won’t be written, at least not by this author.

  Lily welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.