by Lane Hart
“Let me get you a bottle of water to take a few ibuprofen,” I say as I get to my feet and grab the pills and water from the table. “Can I do anything else for you?”
“No, this is great,” he says when he takes them from me.
“How about I try to find us something to watch?” I offer, reaching for the remote and taking my seat in the chair again.
“Yeah, whatever you want,” Logan says. “I don’t watch much television back home.”
“You’re kidding, right?” I ask.
“It’s a waste of time. There’s no end. You could get sucked into watching for hours…”
“And, that’s a bad thing, why?” I ask. “Television is a great escape from real life. Besides, we’re on vacation. It’s okay to be couch potatoes for a little while.”
“Or couch lobsters, in my case,” he jokes with a small smile.
“Lobsters are awesome,” I tell him. “Did you know that they mate for life?” I ask.
“That’s not true,” he replies.
“What?” I scoff indignantly. “Phoebe said so on Friends. Therefore, it must be true,” I argue.
“Sorry to break it to you, but Phoebe was wrong. A male lobster goes through one female right after another.”
My jaw drops. “No way!”
“It’s true,” Logan says, turning his neck to look at me as much as he can. Poor guy looks like a stiff robot. “Wolves, swans, penguins, beavers — those are a few animals that do mate for life, but scientists are pretty sure even those animals occasionally stray.”
“Wow, so all these women are out in the world looking for their lobsters, and they have no idea that the male lobster is actually a player,” I say in disbelief as I shake my head. “That’ll teach me to take Friends as fact.”
“What about you?” Logan asks. “Have you been looking for your lobster?”
“Nah, soulmates are overrated,” I tell him from experience. I thought I had met mine, and then he turned into a raging asshole who wouldn't leave me alone. “What about you?”
“I work too much to date, so I doubt that I’ll ever find a woman who won’t get pissed because I care about my career more than her.”
Surprised to hear Logan say that, I ask, “You don’t think you could ever love a woman more than you love your job?”
“I’ve always been motivated to move up the ladder and be the best — the best in college, law school, now my job. Being the best takes up all my time. I’ll never get that same satisfaction from a relationship.”
“Maybe you just haven’t been properly…satisfied by a woman,” I tease.
“That’s a possibility,” he agrees with a nod.
How crazy am I to wish for a chance to try and satisfy Logan in the ways he’s been missing out? Guess that will never happen since tomorrow is our last day here and Logan’s sunburn means he won’t be up for letting me try even if he wanted me to.
“Maybe after I make partner at your dad’s firm I’ll finally be ready to try and settle down, juggle a serious relationship and my career.”
“You just started a few months ago, right?” I ask since I’m pretty sure it takes years to be asked to become a partner.
“Right. I worked for my father’s firm before that. When he retired, I didn’t want the responsibility of managing the firm, and I wanted a change, wanted to practice in a field that was more exciting than patents.”
“So criminal justice?” I supply.
“Yeah. I’d like to work in an actual courtroom, but that takes time and experience, especially now that I’m starting over at the bottom of the totem pole.”
“You’ll get there,” I say with certainty. “You’re a hard worker, and I’m sure the partners will see that pretty quick.”
“Thanks,” he replies.
Chapter Fifteen
Logan
I appreciate Brayden going all out to try and take care of me and cheer me up despite the fact that I’m so red I’m practically glowing. She’s kept me entertained with funny sitcoms like what I now know are her favorites, Friends and How I Met Your Mother, ordered dinner for us and even brought my food over to me so that I wouldn’t have to move from my stiff position on the sofa. I’m grateful, because even moving an inch hurts like a motherfucker.
This isn’t the first time I’ve been sunburnt since I’ve always had a fair complexion. The good news is that usually by the next day, while the skin stays red for longer, the burn is usually gone. I hope that’s the case here.
“I’m so sleepy, but going up the steps to get into bed seems like a whole lotta pain,” I grumble into the dark room that’s lit softly by two lamps.
“What if I go get you a pillow and blanket, so that you can lay here on the leather sofa tonight?” Brayden asks like the angel I’m starting to realize she is.
“Yeah, I think that could work,” I agree.
“Great, let me lube you up, and then I’ll go get them,” she says as she reaches for the bottle of aloe and I get to my feet for us to go through the routine for the third time. It’s too bad I’m in pain and can’t enjoy Brayden having her hands on me or getting on her knees right in front of me. Even if I weren’t hurting, I’d be an asshole to think of her in such a perverted way when she’s been so great taking care of me.
And don’t think I haven’t missed the fact that she only turned a few shades browner today rather than red as she prances around the room in my shirt and boxer briefs.
“I’ll be right back,” she says when she finishes “lubing me up” as she calls it, then rushes up the stairs.
A moment later she returns with her arms full of bedding.
“Here you go,” she says as she tosses down a pillow and then spreads out a blanket on me one-handed.
When she then curls up in the chair with another pillow and blanket for herself, I ask, “What are you doing?”
“I’m gonna sleep down here too,” she says.
“You should sleep up in the bed where you’ll be more comfortable,” I suggest as I slowly stretch my legs out and try to get comfortable on my side since that’s not burnt.
“I’ll feel better if I’m down here with you. That way, I’ll be close if you need anything,” Brayden says, reminding me that, while the woman may act upbeat and happy, inside I’m almost certain that shes’s still suffering from post-traumatic stress after being in that shitty jail cell.
“You’re so fucking sweet, Brayden,” I tell her honestly with a yawn I can’t contain as my eyes start to close. “One of these days you’re going to have to tell me how you ended up in that damn jail.”
…
Brayden
I don’t sleep great in the living room chair, but I know I would’ve slept less if I had been upstairs in the bed by myself.
When I get home, I don’t know what I’ll do when I’m back in my parents’ house and have to sleep alone in my room. It’s going to be scary, but I’ll need to suck it up and get over it. I’ve slept alone for years, and it never bothered me. I can’t start acting like a scared little girl just because I had a few horrible nights where I wasn’t sure if I would see anyone again.
I’m already awake when Logan stands up from the sofa and stretches his arms over his head, moving more than he was last night.
“Feel better?” I ask him.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “My skin is still a little tight, but the burn is mostly gone. I’m gonna take a shower and then maybe you can lube me up?” he asks.
“Sure,” I tell him since I’ll never get tired of having to rub gel onto his many muscles.
“Sorry I was such a baby yesterday,” he says before he goes up the steps, his hand resting on the banister. “I promise I’ll be better today since it’s our last one.”
“You were in pain, so don’t apologize for anything,” I assure him. “Besides, I owed you for taking care of me when I needed it. Rubbing some aloe on you and helping you stay comfortable was the least I could do.”
“No, you didn’t
have to, but I still appreciate it,” Logan says as he combs his fingers through his messy bed head. “Now think about what you want to do today while I’m in the shower,” he adds before he jogs up the steps, and I stare at his tight ass in his slacks.
I wonder what Logan would say if I told him I want to do him today.
“Never gonna happen,” I mutter to myself. Today’s our last day on vacation, and then it’s back to the real world, also known as hell on earth.
“What’s that?” Logan calls down before he appears at the top of the steps.
“Nothing, just talking to myself,” I assure him, and then he disappears again, and I hear the shower turn on.
Chapter Sixteen
Logan
I’m relieved when I step underneath the shower spray, and it doesn’t sting my skin like yesterday. Sure, I’m still noticeably red on the front of my body, but the burning is mostly gone, except in the creases of my arms where they bend the most.
I’m glad the pain stopped, because today is our last day and I want to take Brayden out. She’s been cooped up in jail and in our room for days, so she deserves to be able to get out and have a little fun.
After a quick shower, I dry off, and pull on my slacks again with no underwear, intent on where my first outing will be. Brayden and I both are in desperate need of clothes. We’ll need something to wear out today and then an outfit to wear home tomorrow.
Home.
I was in a hurry to get here and get back before my plane took off from D.C. now I’m dreading leaving because that means leaving Brayden. Sure, she’ll be on the same plane home as me. But once we get there, we’ll both go our separate ways, me back to the office and her back to whatever it is she’s going to do in life.
And I won’t be a part of it.
The thought makes me sad. I’ve liked spending time with Brayden, taking care of her. And in a twist of irony, I’ve enjoyed having her take care of me when I needed it. Even though I never would’ve asked for her help, she jumped in and made things easier for me when I was suffering. No one has ever done that for me before. I mean, sure, my parents and sister did when I was little, but not since I’ve been a grown man. It never occurred to me that I needed someone to care for me, but I guess once in a while I do. That’s why I’m grateful for all the little things that Brayden did to try and make me comfortable.
As soon as I step into the bedroom, Brayden is waiting for me with the bottle of green goo.
“Ready for your rub down?” she asks with a smile from her seat on the bed. And while yesterday the innuendo wouldn’t have done a thing because I was hurting, today is a different story. My cock started swelling as soon as I woke up and saw her this morning. Now it’s trying to break out of my pants that don’t do much in the way of holding it down.
“Ah, yeah,” I agree since I’ll never turn down a chance for Brayden to touch me.
When she stands up, I step forward, and then the magic begins.
Unlike yesterday, as soon as her fingertips touch my skin, I shiver with need. She starts with my chest this time when usually she goes from my face down. I’m not complaining. Brayden gnaws on her bottom lip in concentration as she works, and it’s so fucking adorable I want to lean down and kiss her.
But I can’t.
So instead, I clench my teeth and try not to let my arousal show. There’s no way I’ll be able to deal with her on her knees, though, so when she starts to kneel, I grab her by her elbow to keep her standing up.
“Thanks, but I can reach my legs today,” I tell her.
“Are you sure?” she asks like she’s a little disappointed that I stopped her.
“Ah, yeah, I’m sure,” I reply. “So, um, what do you want to do today?” I ask before she gets in the shower.
“You mean, you think you want to go out?” she asks.
“What?” I huff teasingly. “Do I still look too bad? I’ll wear my sunglasses and go buy some long sleeves,” I assure her.
“No, you look fine,” she says. “I just wasn’t sure if you would feel like going out.”
“I feel better. Promise,” I tell her. “Now, what should I get you to wear out today and home tomorrow? After I get back and we get dressed, we can head out.”
“Sounds good,” Brayden agrees. “Can you grab me a few dresses, size small?”
“Sure,” I reply. Then I try to figure out how to ask her the sizes of her intimates. “Um, what about, you know, undergarments?”
“Nah, I’m good,” she says before she grins and flounces over to the bathroom where, of course, she leaves the door open.
Jesus fucking Christ. How am I supposed to walk around in public with her knowing she’s not wearing any panties or a bra under her dress?
Using all of my willpower, I force my feet to turn around and head down the stairs before I stoop to the low level of trying to sneak a peek.
God’s obviously testing me, just as I suspected. And I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to pretend like I don’t want to bend Brayden over and fuck her on every available surface in the room.
It’s wrong to even think such a thing, but I can’t seem to help myself.
I’m an awful, dirty man who wants to sleep with his boss’s daughter. I’d do anything for just one night with her to work out all of the fantasies that have been building up since the first night we met.
Brayden doesn’t seem interested in any men right now, and I’m certain my lobster look isn’t gonna help my cause. Besides, she’s off limits, I remind my persistent dick.
I mean, if she kissed me, I sure as hell wouldn’t turn my cheek. But that’s not going to happen.
Even knowing it’s a long shot, I still want to take her out to a nice dinner and see where the night goes.
A man can dream, right?
The worst thing that happens is we come home and sleep in the same bed without touching each other like the other night, and then get up and fly home tomorrow to go our separate ways. I’ll still have memories of her that I’ll be able to keep. I can already tell that there’s no way I’m going to be able to just throw myself into work to get her off my mind, though.
Brayden is the type of woman who has seeped her way under my skin, so now there’s no way to get rid of her. Not that I would even want to. Having a few memories of her from this week that I can’t forget is better than having never met her.
That would’ve been a real shame. So for that, I’m thankful.
Now, I have to go shopping and find us both something to wear tonight.
Since I know Brayden doesn’t like to be alone, I hop into the first cab I see and ask the driver to take me to the closest department store.
Inside, the store is thankfully similar to the ones back home. Not that I do a lot of shopping. If I like a suit or a shirt, I buy five or six of the same ones in different colors, and that’s my wardrobe.
I pick out some slacks and two button down shirts for me, a few pairs of boxer briefs, and then I get to the hard part of my shopping trip — which dress to pick out for Brayden?
In the women’s section, there are probably a million different dresses. I start with black ones since that seems to be a safe color and she liked the bathing suits well enough. Some of the dresses are long-sleeved, and others are slinky with no straps and only a few inches of fabric.
While I would love to see Brayden wearing the one without any straps, I’m not sure if she would be comfortable in something so sexy. I grab a second black dress with short-sleeves for her to pick from tonight, and then two soft, cotton dresses with bright flowers on them for the plane ride home tomorrow.
Waiting in line to pay for everything in my arms, I realize that part of me hopes that Brayden goes with the less revealing dress tonight so that I won’t be drooling over her the whole time we’re out. But my dick? Well, he’s a dirty dog who would willingly roll over and speak for a chance to see her in the sexy dress. It’ll add a little more fuel for future fantasies, for sure, because like it or not
, boss’s daughter or not, I will be fantasizing about Brayden like a motherfucker for days, maybe weeks or months to come. Seeing as much of her skin as I can will be the next best thing to the real deal – having a gorgeous, sweet woman who needs to be held and loved because she’s suffered more than I can imagine and thinks of me as her hero.
Chapter Seventeen
Brayden
Once again, Logan is buying me naughty clothes, which is surprising, since I’m not used to a man wanting me to dress sexy. And also because it makes me think that Logan wants more. Does he like seeing me in less clothing? Does he want to touch me? Kiss me? Fuck me?
Oh, god. I have to fan my face as I look at myself in the bathroom mirror wearing one of the hottest pieces of clothing I’ve ever tried on. For some reason, I feel more exposed in the black strapless dress that barely covers my ass than I did in the bikini. Maybe because the dress leaves little to the imagination. Also, because I’m not wearing anything underneath, which means if I were to bend over just a little bit and Logan was standing behind me, he’d get an eyeful.
Jeez, I’m getting all worked up over a man who is only here with me this week because he was basically required to bail me out of trouble.
I’ve had my hands all over his body; and unlike on the beach, his body hasn’t given me any noticeable reaction that he was interested. Logan even stopped me from putting aloe on his legs this morning. Why would he stop me from touching him if he enjoyed it?
The man is so confusing. One second, I think he’s interested and is going to make a move; then the next he seems like he doesn’t want anything to do with me. Besides, he said it himself — he’s a workaholic who puts his career before women.
Why would I be any different since a fling with me could put his job in jeopardy?
And it’s not like I expect us to keep seeing each other once we get back home. That’s definitely out of the question, because I don’t want Logan to get in the crosshairs of my psycho ex.
