by Nicole Fox
Smiling wickedly, Logan pulled away from the desert sand, rocketing forward. With a cry, the pretty girl locked her hands around his waist, her hands clutching him in fear. He laughed, but the sound was lost in the rumble of his thundering engine.
# # #
Francesca
“Amazing,” Francesca whispered as they stepped off of the bike. Never in her life had she ever felt such exhilaration. There was something beautiful about the open road on a bike. The purr of the engine between her legs, the feel of the wind through her hair. It was like driving one of the convertibles, but even more freeing and wild. “Perhaps I’ll have to buy myself a bike and find someone to teach me to ride it.”
But that would never be able to recreate this first time; something about wrapping her arms around sexy biker man’s body made this trip a thousand times better. She could still remember the thrill of running her fingers over his muscled stomach, of having the heat of his body seeping into hers through their clothing. Just thinking about it was enough to light a fire in her belly.
She ran her manicured fingernails through her white-blonde hair, trying to get out the worst of the tangles and put her hair back into some sort of order.
He looked up at Francesca’s house with wonder, his eyes widening. “Do you work here or something?”
“Ew, no,” she said, snorting indelicately. “This is my house. Well, it’s my main house, anyway.”
Turning back to her, the biker looked her over, his eyes filled with a newfound respect. “I see.” He shut his mouth around any other comments he seemed to want to make, swallowing them down. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like the rest of the money you promised so I can get back on the road.”
“Sure thing; we’ll have to go inside so I can grab the rest of my cash. Why don’t you join me for a drink?”
He frowned but followed without a word. Francesca was intrigued. Is this whole tough man thing an act, or is he really like some kind of hardcore biker gang guy? A thrill of mixed fear and excitement shivered over her skin at the thought. She wanted to ask him about his past, but he didn’t seem the type to divulge secrets to anyone, much less a stranger he just met on the road a half an hour ago.
She took a deep breath, opening her mouth to ask a question when her phone rang, interrupting her. Francesca answered it without thinking. Wincing, Francesca prayed it wasn’t Davis. She couldn’t stand the thought of hearing her ex’s voice right now.
“Oh my God, Francesca. Don’t hang up.” It was Nikki. The second worst person in the world.
“You calling to push the knife in a little harder?” Francesca asked, her voice like ice. “Or are you calling for something work related?”
“He didn’t tell me,” Nikki said, tears in her voice. “I didn’t know it was Davis; you know we’d never met before. He didn’t even tell me he had a girlfriend.” Her best friend’s voice sounded lost, desperate. “He even gave me a fake fucking name, brought me to his house. He didn’t even know you and I knew each other.”
For a long time, Francesca sat in silence, tears slipping down her cheeks. She kept swallowing, but the tears seemed to block her throat. Davis is even more of an asshole than I ever suspected. I hope he rots in hell. How many other girls has he tricked with a false name?
Taking a deep breath, she finally said, “Okay, Nikki. I believe you. But I also don’t want to talk to you right now. Okay?”
“Okay,” she answered, sounding tentatively happier. “Will I see you at work tomorrow?”
“No,” Francesca answered, tears in her eyes as she hung up the phone without saying goodbye. She turned to her visitor, who had listened to the whole conversation without a speck of emotion on his beautiful face. “How about that drink?”
Chapter Three
Logan
The bombshell was crying again, but whatever conversation she’d had on the phone seemed to make her feel a little better. Her heart still seemed to be breaking, and that made Logan wanted to break whoever did this to her in half. He wasn’t sure what it was about this woman that made him so protective of her, but he winced away from analyzing that too hard.
“Perhaps it’s because she is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Logan frowned at that thought. “It doesn’t matter how hot she is, though. I need to get out of here. I need that cash so I can get the hell out of this country.”
San Diego was his only way out. My buddy Benny will help me out. I can’t trust anyone else. There was no way that Zook could have gotten to Benny; Logan was pretty sure his backstabbing second-in-command didn’t even know Benny existed.
“I’m pretty sure Benny still runs people without papers back and forth over the Mexican border. All I got to do is find a little something to pay him with.”
The money from his new benefactor would certainly help, and a few choice items swiped from her house would fill in the rest. All Logan had to do was steal them and get out of here.
“What is your name?” the woman asked as she poured a couple of shots of whiskey over clear ice balls. Sliding one across the counter to him, she lifted her own glass to her lips, taking a deep inhale.
There was a slowness to her drinking that suggested the spirit was expensive and meant to be sipped, so Logan copied her movements. He nearly groaned at the pleasure of the first sip; he’d never tasted anything like it in his life. “Logan,” he answered without thinking. “It would have been better to think up a fake name, you fool. Think up a fake last name, at least, you idiot.
“Logan - Jones.”
“Well, Mr. Jones. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the beautiful lady gently knocked her glass against his and took another slow sip. Despite the mascara still running down her face and legs covered up to her knees in desert dust, she looked at home here in the pretty, rich place. She casually knocked dirt onto the floor, suggesting she’d never cleaned her own floor in her life. “I’ve never met anyone this rich before; I’ve always wondered what it would be like to live like this.” But someone like Logan didn’t belong in this lady’s world, even for a single evening.
“And your name?” Logan asked, frowning. “Don’t I get to know yours?”
The dark lines of her eyebrows flew up into her hairline. “You don’t know me?”
“Should I?” he growled, tired of this game already.
After a long moment of silence, the woman’s face changed. All of the incredulity faded from her features and a kind of calm spread relaxed all of the muscles in her face. “My name is Francesca,” she whispered, without any kind of explanation. After a long moment, her features took on a new expression. “I want you to sleep here.”
Logan nearly spit his whiskey out onto the counter. “You what?”
Eyes as hard as diamonds, Francesca looked down at her hands on the counter. “In the guest room. You can sleep here. You don’t look like you’ve slept in a while. And you were- I mean, you helped me out.” Silent for a long time, Francesca seemed to shrink as he watched, like the pressure of the situation she found herself in was crumbling her bones. “If you want to stay, I am offering you a room.”
“Thank you,” he said, noncommittally.
“I’m going to go bathe, okay? Just don’t go anywhere until I get back. Think it over.”
And she disappeared, vanishing into the depths of this massive house like she’d never existed. A quiet descended on the place so thick, Logan was convinced he was now alone. Curiosity drove him up out of his seat and across the floor.
The living room was a combination of old-fashioned, oversized furniture and expensive electronics, all laying around haphazardly. “To a woman with this much money, I bet she won’t even miss whatever I take.”
But something else drove him up the plush white carpet of the stairs to the second floor. At the top of the stairs was a bathroom, but the lights were off and the room empty. She must have another up here, then. He prowled around each of the rooms, shocked at the sheer amount of beautiful, expensive things that filled this place
. He itched to take something, claim it for his own, before leaving this massive house. But more than that, he wanted a peek of the only thing in this house that he couldn’t touch.
He wanted a peek at her.
# # #
Francesca
Francesca sunk into her bubble bath, feeling all of the tenseness from her very long day start to dissolve into the warm embrace of the water. The bubbles popped and swirled around her, filling the room with the calming scent of lavender. There is not a day so bad that it can’t be improved with a bubble bath. Francesca frowned down at the bubbles. “Even if that improvement involves drowning yourself.”
But Davis wasn’t worth drowning herself over. Davis wasn’t worth even a second of remorse. “I don’t need him. Even if the reality show was looking forward to him being part of next season, I can create drama without him.
She let those thoughts seep away into the water, closing her eyes to the soft light of the bathroom. The important part is getting that half a million dollars from Marston. Steeling herself against the unwelcome flood of emotion that thought brought on, she refused to cry. Davis didn’t deserve any more tears.
“I’ll feel better as soon as that piece of crap comes crawling back to me like a dog.” That wicked little thought made her smile even if her heart was starting to crumble like feta cheese. “No, I have to stay strong. Remember the money. I just need a few ideas for how to make him jealous.”
She sighed, her heart feeling like it didn’t quite fit in her chest. “Like inviting strangers to stay at my house. Very sexy strangers at that. Perhaps he could be used to create the drama I need.”
She laughed at herself, pushing those thoughts away. There was something off about her today; she always played by the rules. And asking Logan to lie for her to make her ex jealous wasn’t much like playing by the rules. What was it about Logan that made her stray from her good girl, rule-loving self?
Probably that amazing ass of his. She blushed at her own thoughts, trying to push thoughts of Logan’s body parts from her mind. She tried to force her tense body to relax into the bath.
Maybe it’s not such a bad idea. I have everything I need to make Davis jealous right here in my house. Images of Logan’s beautiful deep-set eyes flashed into her mind, along with his other assets. Excitement poured through her veins as she began to build a plan in her mind. Being a good girl got me here, unhappy and alone. Maybe it’s time to bend a few rules. Had her pride and $500,000 not been on the line, Francesca wouldn’t have even considered using Logan for her own gains. But they are, and I have to do this. For myself.
Now all she needed was to get Logan to agree. And she was pretty sure she knew exactly what his weakness was.
Chapter Four
Logan
“So have you decided to stay?”
Logan glanced up at her, unable to keep his eyes from running over every inch of her on their way up. There is something so alluring about the blonde vixen. He needed to be careful, or else she was going to catch him in her net.
“I bet many men better than me have been caught in the thrall of those perfect emerald eyes.”
“Crashing a night here would be welcome, but I don’t want to be a bother.”
Francesca waved her hand in dismissal. “Of course you aren’t. This house is big enough for the both of us.” She hesitated for a moment, her eyes falling from his for a moment before returning. “You don’t seem like the type to spill your guts to everyone you meet, and I’m okay with that. But it’s as plain as day that you are in some kind of trouble.”
Logan could feel his stomach knot as the first-class beauty blinked her too-long lashes as him. “It must be obvious to anyone who sees me that the last few days haven’t been good ones.” He winced, thinking back on Zook, that grin on his face as he tore Logan’s life to shreds.
“I’ve had a rough few days, for sure.”
“Well,” she said, a sweet smile on her perfect, peach-colored lips. Francesca was much prettier when she wasn’t crying, when she didn’t have streaks of makeup sliding over her sculpted cheeks. In fact, she wasn’t really wearing any makeup right now, and the gentle, wet wave of her hair made her stunning. “I think I have a way we can help each other.”
Logan raised his eyebrows and kept silent, waiting for her to finish.
Leaning forward, Francesca let the line of her robe open slightly, showing off her ample cleavage. Logan’s eyes were drawn down to her newly exposed skin, his body reacting like a fifteen-year-old watching his first porn. She’s good. It’s amazing anyone can ever tell this woman no.
“You look like you could use some money, and I need some help making my ex jealous. There’s a lot riding on this.” She took a deep breath, the soft skin of her fingers caressing her own flesh, much to the delight of Logan’s flesh. “I will give you ten grand for a few sexy selfies. With me. To send to my ex.”
Logan stared at her as she stood from her place at the kitchen table, sliding her robe off of her shoulders.
Holy shit.
# # #
Francesca
Francesca grinned wickedly, her eyes hooded with pleasure. It was nice to know she was still hot, that her body in sexy lingerie could still make a man drool. Logan watched her every move as she ran her fingers through her hair, spinning in a slow circle for his benefit.
Gotcha, she thought, watching with glee as he swallowed hard, then swallowed again. “Come on, I’ll show you to the guest bedroom. Just a few photos, as hot as we can make them, and you’ll have enough money to get out of whatever situation you’ve found yourself in. Agreed? I’ll even cut your face out of the photos, if you like.”
He opened his mouth to speak and nothing came out. After clearing his throat, Logan tried again. “Make it twelve and I’ll do anything you want.”
Francesca laughed, tossing her robe aside. “Fine, twelve grand. Shake on it.” She held out a hand, and she watched with delight as he hesitated before taking it. His palm was warm and calloused under her own, feeling like sandpaper under her too-soft skin. A man that works for a living, then. The thought of Logan as a manual laborer really turned her on, flooding her panties like someone had left the water running. “Is it getting warmer in here?”
A twinge of nervousness at what she’s about to do hit her gut hard as they walked up the stairs together, her leading Logan by the hand like a child. “You can stay in here. Let’s mess up the sheets a bit before we climb in.” A blush burned over her nose, but Francesca ignored it.
This was too important.
“Davis is going to see these and freak out. Then I’m going to win back my boyfriend just to break up with his craven ass. Then I’m going to collect my money. Then everything will go back to normal.”
Francesca lays down on the bed, patting the mattress right next to her. “Okay, you sit here and kiss my neck.”
Logan stared at her for a moment, a hundred different emotions pulling at his sensual mouth in an instant. But he did it. Francesca pulled out her phone, making sure to get the hot, tattooed man kissing her neck and her scanty lingerie in the photo. But having Logan kiss her neck made it incredibly difficult to focus.
She was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to actually want him, but the moment he set his lips against her neck, every ounce of her blood turned to lava underneath her skin. Francesca’s body no longer seemed to care what was right or wrong; it was just filled with a kind of longing she’d never felt in her whole life.
Shivering with delight at the feel of Logan so close, his breath hot on her neck, Francesca had to take a deep breath to steady herself. She clicked several photos, making sure she looked as irresistible as possible in every one.
“This just isn’t sexy enough,” she mourned, looking at the photos. “We’re going to have to make it look more like we’re doing something hotter.”
Logan didn’t say a word. Instead, he just followed her instructions like a puppet. “Now climb on top of me,” she said, feeling her blush b
urn a little hotter across her cheeks. “We need it to look real.”
Logan pulled off his shirt and climbed between her legs, his face impassive. Francesca had been hoping for something more from him; she’d wanted to feel his desire against her skin like the sun’s heat. But instead, he seemed to have gotten complete control over himself, positioning himself like he was having sex with her without a single hint of lust.
Francesca took about a million photos. She angled the photos so it looked like they were actually doing the deed. Every brush of his skin against hers made things worse, the need in her spilling out to her extremities and flooding her sexy lingerie panties.
And yet, Logan remained unaffected.
Once she left his room, she immediately locked herself in her bedroom, the feeling of his body against hers leaving burn marks across every inch of her skin. It took a long time for her breathing to return to normal.
