by Layla Hagen
As if sensing this change, Logan says, “I won’t hurt you, Nadine. I don’t want you to take my word for it; I’ll prove it to you.” His words reach somewhere deep inside me, beneath the confident air of a woman wearing sexy lingerie. He pulls back a notch, cupping the side of my face with his long fingers. The desire to be alone with him hits me fast and unapologetic.
“I need some fresh air.” My eyes dart to the double doors leading to the terrace.
Logan doesn’t argue, instead leading the way. Once outside, I shiver, and Logan makes quick work of shedding his suit jacket, draping it around my shoulders.
“Always a gentleman, aren’t you?”
“I assure you I don’t kiss like a gentleman.”
Before I can fully process his words, he closes the distance between us, covering my mouth with his. His lips settle on mine, full and warm. Their touch is enough to send a zing of anticipation through me, setting me on fire. His tongue pushes between my lips, coaxing my own into a dance.
Logan doesn’t kiss me as if it’s a means to an end.
He kisses me to... kiss me.
I have never been kissed like this before. He worships my mouth, and I know he’d do the same with my body. Without warning, Logan intensifies the kiss. He pushes me against the wall, sucking on my tongue. I burn between my thighs, my whole body alive with need. When I mirror the action on his tongue, I’m rewarded with a groan. He pulls back, dropping his mouth to my neck.
“You taste so sweet,” he says. “I could kiss you all night, Nadine.”
“Why don’t you?” I whisper. “Can I have a second kiss?”
His lips curl into a smile against my neck.
“You’re an impatient little thing. No second kiss right now.” He lifts his head, looking straight at me. “Remember what I told you about anticipation?”
“Yes.”
“I must give you some incentive to accept going on a second date with me.”
I laugh. “You sure can negotiate.”
“Is that a yes?”
I hesitate for a few seconds, but his consuming presence leaves me no choice. “Yes, Logan, it is. I want to go on a second date with you.”
A gust of wind blows, chilling me.
“Let’s go back inside,” Logan says.
The rest of the evening goes by in a whirlwind. I order a second dessert and listen to Logan’s childhood stories, laughing harder than I have in a long time. It’s very late when we leave the restaurant, and we’re the last ones to do so. Logan drives me home, and I wrestle with myself the entire way—should I invite him in or not?
I’m not ready to take things further tonight, but at the same time, I’m not ready to let him go yet.
***
“You are a superhero, cape and all,” I say when he walks me to my door instead of just dropping me off in front of the building.
“I’m offended you thought otherwise.”
I smile at him, sticking the key in my lock, but the door is stuck. I’m about to push myself into the door when Logan offers, bemused, “Leave that to me.”
Stepping aside, I watch him shoulder the door open.
“I suppose I have no option now but to invite you in, do I?” I ask.
“I suppose not.”
Stepping inside, I turn on the light. The place looks even more run-down with the small light reflecting from the ceiling. I try not to give my apartment much thought, but it’s one of the most depressing places I’ve ever lived in. It was the only one in my price range.
“I’d offer to give you a tour, but what you see is what you get. A studio with stuff piled up everywhere. It’s all I can afford for now.”
“Don’t apologize, Nadine. Don’t forget I wasn’t born rich.”
I expected to be a basket case having him here, but I’m strangely at ease. Well, except for my galloping pulse.
“I can show you some of my designs,” I tell him.
For some reason, his eyes widen.
“I’ll just show you pictures, though. I don’t want to take the dresses out of their boxes.” Logan hunches his shoulders in disappointment. How did he think I’d be showing him the dresses?
We sit on the couch, and I instantly become aware of how close we are. I open my laptop and start the slideshow.
“Nadine, these are incredible,” Logan says after I show him my newest collection.
“Really?”
“Yes, I mean, I assumed they’d be decent, but they’re fantastic. I’m not an expert, but we do work closely with fashion houses for our collection shows, so I know a thing or two. And you didn’t attend any fashion school?”
“No degree. I took as many cheap online courses as I could find, and invested in a professional sewing machine.”
“You are amazingly talented.”
“Thank you.” Having someone else besides my best friend believe in me, and acknowledge my talent is empowering.
“What’s that?” He points to a folder on my laptop named Dream House.
“Oh, just some daydreaming on my part. When I was searching for empty spaces for the shop, I also came across some houses. I saved my favorite one here, even though it’ll be a long time before I can afford one. It’s good for motivation.”
“Show me.”
Hesitantly, I do as he says. Showing him my dream house feels as if I’m laying yet another part of me bare.
He smiles while browsing through the pictures. “I see you’re the white picket fence girl all the way.”
“Guilty,” I admit.
“You also seem adamant to have a garden with a very old tree—”
“And large windows in the rooms overlooking the garden.” All the houses I loved have those things in common. “One of those rooms would be my workshop. It’d be very inspiring to work with such a view.”
“You’re adorable, Nadine.”
“Thank you.” I wasn’t expecting that reaction. After pushing my laptop away, Logan turns to face me. As usual, being the sole object of his attention makes me ache for him. He plays with his fingers on the inside of my wrist; the simple movement sets my nerve endings on fire. Carefully, as if he’s handling a piece of particularly fragile china, Logan lifts my hand until my wrist reaches his mouth. He feathers his lips on my already sensitized skin, and this sends me over the edge, a moan escaping my lips. He cups my cheek with his other hand and I languidly give in to his touch, craving for more. His fingers trail from my cheek down to my jaw, then around to the back of my neck. Rubbing his thumb against the skin there, he pulls me to him.
This kiss is different than the first one. It’s slow and gentle, but it dazzles me nonetheless. When we break off, I struggle for breath.
“I thought you planned to torture me and make me wait for a second kiss until our second date?”
“Changed my mind. Besides, you already agreed to a second date.” Logan smiles, his thumb perusing the contour of my lips. “I don’t want you to date anyone else while you date me.”
My insides melt. I wasn’t going to see anyone else anyway; it’s not who I am. Nevertheless, teasing him won’t hurt. “One date and you’re a caveman already?”
“Oh, you’ve seen that side of me many times since we met Alex.”
“True.”
I watch him silently. A playful twinkle dances in his eyes, but beyond that is a glimmer of domination, which sends ripples through my body. I decide to play this for all it’s worth, because I feel naughty, and it’ll be fun to watch him get riled up. “You think two kisses give you the right to exclusivity?”
Logan’s stance changes and his jaw ticks. “No?”
“No, but three kisses might.”
Logan’s tension ebbs away. “I see, bartering for another kiss.”
Here, surrounded by darkness and quiet, I become acutely aware of the effect he has on me. Cupping the back of my head, he pushes me even closer to him. Desperate for more body-on-body contact, I climb into his lap, lacing my fingers around the back of his
neck. Our groins are dangerously close to one another. His breath on my lips sends a jolt low in my body, and I lean in to kiss him. This one is explosive. He explores my mouth with his tongue at the same time he explores my body with his expert hands. They travel from my neck down to my breasts, lingering there for a sweet moment.
My nipples turn to hard nubs under my bra, throbbing for more of his touch. As his hands move farther down, resting on my hips, I shift in his lap. My soaked thong grazes the already sensitive skin between my thighs, and I moan against his mouth. The movements of our tongues grow faster, more desperate. He pulls me hard against him until my slick flesh collides with his erection. Logan digs his fingers into my hips, groaning. Wow. Who knew petting with clothes on could be so sexy?
We pull apart, gasping for breath.
“Nadine.” His voice comes out rough and throaty. “I haven’t gotten hard from just a kiss since I was in high school.”
I giggle, feeling like a wicked schoolgirl.
“Have I earned the right to be your only date for a while?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Great.” Smiling at me, he kisses my forehead. “Now, I’m going to leave, because I’m seconds away from losing my self-control.”
“Most men wouldn’t have a problem with that.”
“I am not most men.”
“That’s right, you’re not,” I whisper.
“I want to spend time with you, spoil you, and make you smile first.”
“Why?” I ask, sincerely confused.
“Because you deserve it. You’re fun, honest, and hardworking. I love that. It’s refreshing. You’ve had enough bad luck, Nadine. Time for that to change.”
I gulp, moving away from his lap. “Okay.”
While I sit on the couch, I take in his ruffled hair, his wrinkled shirt. His breathing is as labored as mine. My control snaps just by looking at him.
“How about next Friday for that second date?”
I nod. “Eight o’clock?”
“I’ll pick you up.”
I watch Logan leave while sitting on the couch, and once I’m alone I grab the laptop. The folder with my portfolio stares at me as a reminder that I must focus on my career, on making the store a success. A man like Logan will never accept being second to anything. It’s not in his nature. If I’ve learned something from his kisses, it’s that no matter if he goes fast or slow, he demands everything.
Chapter Seven
Logan
The first thing I do at work the next morning is go to the Creative department to find Pippa. Stepping out of the elevator, I find the team bustling with life and energy. Pippa is at the other end of the room at her desk, holding a crayon in her hand, moving it furiously across a notebook. A look of intense concentration stretches across her features. Ah, I’d recognize that expression anywhere—my sister is in a creative mood. Pippa, like Summer, always had an imaginative spark. Sebastian and I worked with various designers when we first started out, and only when one of them dropped out did our sister step in, showing us some sketches. She was more talented than all the other designers we had.
We have advanced digital programs for designing our collections, but Pippa still sketches everything by hand first. From the numerous incidents in our childhood when I interrupted her from her drawing, I know that now isn’t the best time to butt in, but I’ll take my chances anyway.
“Hello, sister.”
Pippa startles, her shoulders quivering slightly. Furrowing her brow, she shoots me a look I recognize: You’d better have a good reason for interrupting me.
“Logan, this is a surprise.” Pippa pushes her sketch away.
“I can’t visit my sister at her workplace?”
She rolls her eyes. “Like I don’t come up to your office enough. You need something, don’t you?”
“I do.” Pulling a chair from a nearby desk, I sit down. “I’m going to tell you something, and I want you to be quiet until I finish.”
My sister’s expression changes from attentive to delighted. “You’re not here to talk about the budget for the next show, are you?”
“No, even though you, Ava, Sebastian, and I do have to talk it through sometime this week.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Pippa waves her hand dismissively. She’s never cared much about numbers. “What do you want to tell me?”
She’ll drive me bananas after I tell her, but there’s no way around it. “I went on a date with Nadine.” Pippa opens her mouth, but I raise my finger. “No, no, no. I talk, and you’re silent. That was the deal.”
She narrows her eyes. “I thought you meant something work-related when I agreed. No way am I keeping quiet.”
I groan, fully aware I’ve opened Pandora’s Box.
“Why were you pretending to be mad at us for trying to set you up?”
“I wasn’t pretending. I was annoyed that all of you meddled in my affairs, as though I couldn’t get a woman myself.”
“Oh, please, Logan. That’s what we do. We meddle in each other’s business, especially when we think the other person needs help. You should know; you do it all the time.”
“Are you going to lecture me, or do you want to hear me out?”
After a moment’s deliberation, she purses her lips. “Continue.”
“We ended up at her place after the date, and she showed me some of her designs. Have you seen them?”
“No.”
“They’re brilliant. Could we use them for our next collection show?”
Pippa was reaching for her glass of water, but her hand stops in midair as she snaps her head to me. “They’re that good?”
“Tell her to show them to you. You have the decision power over this, but I think her designs would be a great match.”
Over the years, Pippa chose to work with well-known fashion designers and new up-and-comers alike. “We’re already working with a designer for the upcoming show. I can’t drop him, but I’ll look over her designs, and if they’re that good, we can always use them in the future.”
“Sounds good.”
“Wish I could be bitchy enough to drop the current designer. He’s driving me crazy. He practically became a star after we worked with him five years ago, and now he’s acting like a diva. Rich people are asses sometimes.”
“Pippa, we are rich,” I remind her.
“Yeah.” Dropping her voice to a whisper, she says, “Last week, I woke up in the middle of the night convinced our parents are next door, trying to figure out how to make ends meet this month.”
Her words hit me like a punch in the gut. Sebastian, Pippa, Alice, and I were old enough to remember the worst of times. I used to have the same nightmare, but that was more than ten years ago. Why’s she having them now? Ah... I remember Alice telling me about a therapy session she accompanied Pippa to after the divorce. Apparently, once you feel uncertain in one area, old insecurities and fears start showing too.
Well, there’s no reason my sister has to put up with this. Deciding to distract her—even if only momentarily, I offer myself as bait.
“So, back to Nadine. As I said, she showed me her designs last night. . .”
My words have the exact effect I was hoping for. Pippa’s frown melts, a grin appearing instead. “Wait a minute. What do you mean she showed them to you? Did she. . . model them for you?”
“No. She showed me pictures.”
“Okay, I’m building a little scenario in my head. Did you have sex?”
“Pippa, I’m not discussing my sex life with you.”
“Fine, talk to Sebastian about it. Or Blake. I’ll get it out of them.”
Why did I think that using my date with Nadine as a distraction was a good idea? I. Never. Learn. No one’s going to save my bacon now.
“Admit it. I was right.” Pippa stands up from her chair, swinging her hips in a little dance. I look around, but the rest of the department is not even remotely surprised. I suppose they’ve grown used to my sister’s personal brand of
crazy.
“What about?” I ask, though I have an inkling of where this is going.
“About Nadine and you. I knew you’d be perfect for each other since before I officially met her.”
“You want to hear me say it, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Fine, you were right. We’re taking things slow, so please don’t build any scenarios in your head that take this too far.”
“You mean already playing with the idea of the color theme of your wedding is taking things too far?” Pippa asks innocently.
I groan, putting my elbows on her desk. No matter what I say, my sister will go on with her scenarios. I promised Nadine that we’d take things slow, without any pressure, and I intend to keep that promise, even though I felt like going one hundred miles per hour yesterday. Just remembering her sweet, soft lips and her delicious moans as I kissed her is undoing me. I will be patient, though. Nadine is stronger than all the women I’ve dated in the past, but I want her to trust me completely before I take things further.
“You’ve sidetracked me,” I say.
“Sorry. So, Nadine’s designs are great.”
“Yeah. You’re the creative genius of the company; you have to decide if they’ll work for us. Can you ask her to show them to you? Don’t tell her I said anything.”
“And why is that?”
“Because she doesn’t like favors, and I don’t want her to think I’m overbearing.”
“You're sweet right now. Don’t worry, I’ll let you know as soon as you’re overbearing.”
Pippa scrunches her nose at the last word. She was the one who announced it was the signature word to describe me.
“I can always count on that.”
“Can I ask you something?” Pippa inquires.
“Saying no never stopped you, so go ahead.”
