“So it’s not that I’m just plain attracted to you or that you’re plain attracted to me,” he said.
She sighed. “You’re not that attracted to me. You want a list of my shortcomings?”
“Hit me with it, yeah, let’s have the insecurities.”
Okay, fine. “I stutter.” She looked at his impassive face.
“Not as often as you probably think,” he said calmly. “You don’t stutter that much when you talk to me.”
“Usually because I’m too c-cross to be thinking about what I’m saying.”
“When you’re cross you don’t stutter?” he smiled.
“I can swear without stuttering.” She could really swear.
“Good to know.” he nodded. “So when do you stutter most?”
She sighed. “When I’m scared or embarrassed which makes it worse. Or upset. C-can’t speak at all if I’m c-crying.” So she never cried.
“You stuttered when I said we were going to be engaged.”
“Can you blame me? I was terrified.”
“It’s not so bad though, is it?”
So far? It was excruciating. She glared at him.
“And that’s why you sometimes speak with the whisper?” he asked.
Yeah, he’d noticed a lot, hadn’t he? There was no point trying to cover up now. “When you put on a kind of ‘voice’, it’s like acting. And I rely on phrases that I’ve practiced lots.”
“Does it have to be the sexy-whisper voice?” he asked, that wicked glint reappearing in his eye. “Couldn’t it be some other kind of voice?”
For a second she just stared at him. And then she laughed. The guy was unbelievable. “What did you have in mind?”
“I dunno. Southern accent maybe?” he suggested with playful wink. “Or pirate?”
“You want me to talk p-pirate to you?”
“Aye, me hearty.”
“You didn’t want cowgirl?” she teased back, getting into the spirit of it.
“You gonna saddle me up and ride me hard?” He looked delighted.
At that she laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”
“For someone who stutters you sure can use some long words.”
She knew from the look in his eye he was baiting her. Playing. But she couldn’t resist responding.
“Just because I stutter doesn’t mean I’m stupid,” she said, breathier than ever.
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” he breathed back. “I think you’re as sexy as sin.”
“And I think you’re nothing but a smooth talker.” A silver-tongued devil.
But she’d never joked about her stutter with anyone before. She’d never laughed about it like this. It felt weirdly okay.
“You’ve always had it?” he asked, easing back on the sofa in his relaxed, graceful way.
She shook her head. “I developed it when I was a kid. It was worse for a long while and now, for the most part, I manage to control it.”
“How come you developed it?”
She hesitated, turning back towards the computer screen. “My mother has very high standards.”
Don’t say that. Say this. Speak up. Speak clearly. Speak faster. Speak more slowly. Louder, softer.
She could never get it right. Never ever. And then the endless step-family cycle had started and somehow it had become harder to speak. Harder to fit in. Harder to live up to everyone else. They’d all been so perfect. Her mom had wanted her to be like them. Only she wasn’t. And the more she’d tried, the worse she’d got.
“Oh yeah?” he said sympathetically. “My parents had very high expectations too.”
“Yeah?” She glanced back at him.
“No win, no welcome home.”
He’d said it with a smile, but Min’s blood chilled. “For real?”
“Oh yeah, there are two people in life. Winners and Losers. And losers are not welcome at Summerhill.”
“Is that what they said?” she asked.
“Many, many times over.” He sighed. “They had me on skis before I could walk. Dad was desperate for a champion.”
“How’d that p-play out for you?”
“It meant that I’d do anything to win. In everything.”
“Cheat?” Min held her breath.
He angled his head, studied the big screen on the wall. Then he turned back to meet her gaze. There was fearlessness in his eyes. But also a bitterness?
“A couple of times, personally, yes,” he said quietly.
In her worst moments, she’d imagined that he’d cheated on a woman, but it hurt to hear him admit it. Even though there was part of her impressed at his honesty.
“What about your sport?” she asked, needing to move on.
“No. Never.” Instant response.
And she was sure it was honest again.
“But I took risks,” he added. “Too many. I was too desperate to win.”
“That was how you got injured? One risk too many?” It was the first time she’d mentioned the accident that had ended his career short of a world championship. Any chance of golden glory snatched from his grasp.
He nodded. “But really, it was over before that final race. Maybe I could have come back from it, but I didn’t want to do it anymore.”
He didn’t? He’d wanted to give up a lifetime of training and ambition? That wouldn’t have been easy decision to make, and even harder to enact if it was all that his parents had wanted for him.
Was that why the accident had happened? Had it been the only acceptable way out?
“What happened if you didn’t make the mark?” he asked.
“Disappointment. Disapproval.” She shrugged. “She was only trying to help me make something b-better of myself.”
“But made you feel worse in the process.”
She nodded.
“Parents, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“What about school, kids there give you trouble?” he asked.
“Anyone with something a little different about them is bound to be bullied sometime, right?” She tried to smile it off. For her, it wasn’t so much at school as later, at varsity.
“Some worse than others.”
“So you learn to survive.”
“I guess you do.” He frowned, glanced at the clock in the top right of the media screen. “I have to go, I have an appointment.”
Disappointment flooded her, she’d liked talking to him. She covered up by thinking work. “Anything I can tweet something p-pithy about?”
“No.”
She suppressed the spurt of annoyance at that bald answer and bit her lip to stop asking anything more. When she glanced up, she saw him looking at her, eyebrows lifted, that teasing smile on his face.
“You’re not going to ask?”
“None of my business.” She shrugged and clicked into his tweet stream, she’d been delaying checking it again.
Hopefully the crazy engagement congrats had died down. Surely someone far more famous had done something super out-there to distract the Twitterverse. Instead there was something worse.
“L-Logan.”
He swiftly moved to stand behind her and look at the screen. The picture showed them in Central Park—showed him kissing the brains out of her, his hand on her ass and her leaning into him, her hand twisted in his coat.
Logan swore beneath his breath.
“What?” She swivelled on the chair and looked at him up sarcastically. “Like you didn’t plan that?”
He glanced down to meet her fierce gaze. “Of course I didn’t.”
“You only kissed me because we were out in public.”
“Haven’t we just gone through this?” This time he was the one to roll his eyes. “I kissed you because I wanted to. I’ve wanted to since I first saw you.”
She pressed her lips together.
“Okay,” he raised his hands in surrender. “I won’t kiss you again. At least, never again in public.”
“Never again at all.”
�
��Not unless you ask me to,” he amended with a wry smile.
Brilliant. She was never asking.
He laughed. “Never say never.”
“Were you always so c-confident?” She had to ask, it was something she just couldn’t relate to.
“I’m not confident in everything.”
Like she was going to believe that. “Don’t try to humanise yourself, it won’t work.”
He laughed again and leaned back over her shoulder to click the photo into a larger size.
She glared at it, suppressing the squirm as the image reminded her of how good he’d felt pressed against her. “Don’t you have that appointment to get to?”
“You’ve had enough of me for today?”
“More than enough,” she said acidly. But she couldn’t stop the quirk of her lips. Fortunately he couldn’t see her smile what with her back to him and all.
“I’m going to play waterpolo with the guys. You want to come watch?” Logan couldn’t stop asking her—though he hadn’t meant to. But on this angle he could just see her reflection in the computer screen—that sexy tilt to her lips, the deepened color in her cheeks. The way her eyes were heavy-lidded and gleaming. And with that picture of them kissing? He was so hard. But he wasn’t making the obvious move. He didn’t want to leave her. He wanted her beside him. He wanted to kiss her again. Strip her.
“You could play?” he asked again. He’d give anything to see her in a bathing suit right now. “Rocco’s hotel is amazing. You should check it out.”
“I have some things I need to catch up on.” She looked down at the to-do list she’d written in her book.
“Okay.”
His chest felt tight. Why’d he been so honest with her? He never discussed his personal life, not even in tiny amounts like he had with her. That old shit about his training? But Min had been vulnerable, acutely aware of her stutter for all the jokes about it. He’d wanted to share something back. Something to put her more at ease. So he’d confessed one of his own dark secrets—that he’d cheated. No details, sure. But still, it was crazy to go there. He’d never told anyone—only Connor.
And it would only have cemented her opinion of him.
He got out of the room before he said or did anything more dumb. Like simply yanking her out of that chair and picking up from where they’d left it in the park.
Damn if he didn’t want to touch her. Kiss her all over this time—no clothes to hinder his access. He ached to have her spread wide beneath him so he could bury deep and feel her tight around him. He wanted to see her eyes lose their cool edge, her mouth to soften with passion. Because of him.
Instead he sprinted to Rocco’s hotel and dived into the pool as soon as he got there. But the run wasn’t enough, the energy within him felt like it was going to burst through his skin. He hadn’t felt an adrenalin burn like this since his competition days. Maybe not even then.
“What’s with you?” Xander stared at him after he’d slammed the ball from one end of the pool right to the other—and almost into his opponent’s face. “That was vicious.”
“Got my game on.” Logan growled. “If you don’t like it, get out of the water.”
“Things not good on the domestic front?” Rocco asked.
Logan leapt from the water to steal the ball and threw it, straight down the length of the pool where it smacked into the back of the net. “Things are fucking fantastic actually, thanks for asking.”
“Wow,” Xander murmured. “Can’t wait to see what happens when you have your first argument.”
Min argued with him all the time. Well, sparred. Little twisting sizzle moments wrapped in her cynical smile and snappy come-backs.
He liked it.
He shouldn’t feel this edgy. But his libido had been on a break and had returned with exceptional force. And she was conveniently close. That’s why he was so hard for her.
And she was hungry too. The way she’d kissed him sure hadn’t helped ease the ache in his groin any. She’d opened up, but then she’d devoured. Her body had moved, lush and willing.
His muscles hurt as he held them in check, trying to stem the raging lust that surged at the mere thought of her.
Yeah, he had way too much energy. Way too much want.
There was only one way to get rid of it—but it was what she expected of him and didn’t that just rub a raw spot he hadn’t known he had.
She wanted him. Didn’t want to want him. And expected him to make a move anyway because she thought he was little more than a lust-driven animal. Damned if he was going to be the guy she expected him to be.
He could prove a point as well as anyone.
She didn’t just want him to kiss her, she wanted him to fuck her. It was written all over her face. But he wasn’t just going to wait for her to ask. He was going to make her beg.
Chapter Eleven
#ThingsYouShouldNeverSee
Min tried to work. Not on Logan’s feed, but the web update for another of her cage fighter clients. But concentrating was impossible. She was being seduced. She knew she was. No wonder he’d bedded a billion women. He was charming. Funny. But along with that humor, he showed compassion and understanding.
Plus he looked like no one on this earth, felt like no one. Kissed like no one else. He didn’t just have the appearance, but the skills to go with it.
Get a grip.
She was nothing special to him—merely the latest challenge. She needed to remember that. She stared at his big computer screen, thinking about what was out there on that world wide web.
Logan.
She shouldn’t. Absolutely shouldn’t. But curiosity ate through her and heat burned in its trail. Desire had her in thrall and that was so not good.
This would put her off, right? Would remind her why she should stay away. Not be tempted. Not be the latest in a long, long line. Not be memorable to him for all the wrong reasons.
She typed his name in the search engine. Typed in ‘sex’. Typed in ‘threesome’.
The link was the first hit in the search engine. And the second, third and fourth. It was on several sites. And had been viewed millions of times on each.
There was a reason for that, right?
Min didn’t take her eyes from the screen as she clicked the link. Music thumped in a fast loud rhythm. But as the image appeared on screen, her jaw dropped.
There were no opening credits, no slow build or strip tease, this edit was straight into the hard core action.
Logan was lying in the middle of the bed. The women were straddling him, facing each other. One was sliding herself up and down his cock, the other was on his face.
O.M. freaking G.
Min put her hand to her mouth as she watched. With one hand Logan was massaging the clit of the woman riding his cock, his other hand was cupping the breast of the woman he was eating out.
So explicit. So shocking. So—
The women sighed, writhing in ecstasy. Beautiful women with narrow waists and big breasts and perfectly groomed hair.
Min winced.
The camera shot changed. It took Min a second to realize the woman riding Logan’s lips held the phone. She panned down the impossibly pert, big, bouncing breasts of the woman opposite. The one slipping up and down his rigid cock. The camera angle lingered over the woman’s perfect proportions.
Ugh.
But then the camera panned over Logan’s prone form.
Min stopped breathing. She could see his abs working, tight packed bunches of muscle. His skin was tanned, the veins popped, a thin sheen of sweat made his body shine. She could see the ferocious rhythm he maintained as he thrust upwards into the woman. See his stamina. All while rubbing one and sucking on the other?
How could he possibly be that co-ordinated? That in control?
Then the woman holding the camera switched the view—turning it onto herself. She smiled into the camera and licked her lips. Then she let the camera view slide down, down.
OMG, right down
.
Min covered her face with her hands, but peeked through her fingers at the same time. She could see his tongue tracing circles, teasing the woman’s folds, flicking over her clit. His tongue could damn well dance.
Oh my.
She could not possibly be finding this fascinating. Or... anything.
The angle changed again, back to the first camera, the one showing the side-on view of the three of them on that massive bed. Had they parked the phone? One looked directly at the camera and blew a kiss.
Yeah. Those women had set the phone up. And they were so perfect with their smooth skin and smoother moves. They played with their hair, tilting their heads back as they breathed words of arousal and encouragement.
The one riding his cock cried out. “Come in me.”
“That wouldn’t be fair.” Logan’s words were muffled, but he sounded calm. Too calm. Too in control.
Min’s eyes widened. Was he even human?
The woman he was sucking off groaned. His actions sped up.
“Oh yes, more.” The woman called. “Don’t stop. I love it.”
Both women purred, eager, encouraging, sighing. Their movements grew jerkier, until they both shrieked.
Min sat, shocked. He’d given two women simultaneous orgasms. He was so skilled? With that body of his, she could believe it. And she already knew how he kissed.
“I want a turn on your tongue. I want you to bite me.” The woman on his cock said. It was the petulant purr of a sexually confident woman. “I want to come again.”
“Be my guest,” he answered.
Still so in control?
The women crawled over him, slowly swapping positions, pausing to kiss him—one his mouth, one his cock.
Min shut her eyes, covered them with tightly closed fingers. Mortified. She should never have clicked on this. But covering her eyes didn’t stop her hearing the sounds—the sexy sighs and purrs, the words those women uttered. So smooth and sultry. Words she’d stumble over.
It was a fuck fest. In stereo.
“Oh Logan, yes. I can’t… anymore…”
“Do me. Ohhhh.” The woman groaned, almost a pained sound “You’re so fucking hard—”
How would he ever want anything normal after that? Two pieces of perfection doing anything and everything a guy could ever want? And all that sexy talk? So sultry, designed to arouse. It wasn’t something she could ever do.
Beg for Me Page 12
