by Nicole Fox
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 burn 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.
She lay down on her bed, facing the white ceiling with a kind of elated, heartbroken lust.
Picking up her phone, Francesca glanced through the photos. There Logan was, his body curled so hard around hers that —
Gasping, Francesca slid her hands down to her panties, unsurprised that she’d soaked through the lacy fabric. She caressed the parts of her that ached so desperately to be touched, her fingers rubbing and teasing as she flipped through the pictures again.
God, that was hot. She bit her lip as she slid her own fingers inside of herself, feeling her body crave any touch. But it wasn’t nearly enough.
Reaching into the drawer by her bed without looking, Francesca kept her eyes locked on the phone’s screen, each picture hotter than the last. Seeing herself being fucked by Logan, even if it hadn’t been real, was enough to light her whole body aflame.
She found her vibrator and slid it up into her throbbing pussy without preamble, unable to bear feeling so empty anymore.
Moaning a little, Francesca kept her eyes locked with her favorite photo as she slid the vibrator inside of herself again. It thrummed and caressed all the places she wanted Logan’s cock to caress.
If only that photo had been real.
That thought was enough to make her orgasm almost on its own and she jerked with the force of her climax.
Dripping wet, Francesca climbed out of bed to clean up. Although she still throbbed with the pleasure of her orgasm’s aftershocks, her body wasn’t quite satisfied. It still wanted desperately for Francesca to climb in bed with Logan to see what real sex with him would be like.
But she told that part of herself to take a hike and climbed back into her bed. It seemed emptier and colder than she ever remembered it feeling.
Chapter Five
Logan
After a very long, very restful sleep filled with all manner of deliciously naughty dreams, Logan rose to a too-bright sun shining into his window. Tensing, Logan looked around in horror, his mind slower to wake than the rest of him. It took about a minute to remember why he was sleeping in a strange bedroom.
It took a few disoriented seconds to remember that the blonde beauty who had been featured in most of his sex dreams was a real person, and she’d been in this bed with him the night before. He could remember each detail so vividly, his body reacted like a teenager’s just at the thought of her body rutting up against his, almost as though they had actually been fucking.
I have to get out of this house, he realized, trying not to think too hard about how twisted up he’d gotten over Francesca’s little experiment last night.
He wondered if she’d sent those photos off to her ex yet. He wondered if the man was jealous or angry. Logan was pretty sure he didn’t want to stick around and find out.
Getting ready as quickly as possible, Logan mourned that he had to rush through the shower. It had been a few days since he’d gotten a proper bath, and not knowing when he would have another real shower next made him want to linger in the heated water.
Dressing quickly, Logan nearly ran down the stairs, flying into the kitchen to come face to face with his hostess. She stared at him, a dead look in her pretty, emerald eyes. There was something so empty and sad in her that Logan almost reached out to comfort her.
With a great deal of effort, he kept his hands to himself.
Francesca glanced down at his mouth, then back up at his eyes, something indescribable in her face. He couldn’t image what she had seen in him that made her make that face, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
“I was just about to write you a note; I’m heading to the bank now that they are open. I’m going to get your cash.”
Logan leaned on the counter, sniffing deeply. The bitter and sweet scent of coffee floated around him, much to the delight of his nose. “I thought spoiled rich kids were supposed to stay in bed until noon.”
Francesca frowned, walking over to the coffeemaker and pouring him a mug without asking if he wanted it. “Not when they own their own business. I’d meant to sleep in but ended up just waking up at my normal time anyway. Do you take anything in it?”
“A little creamer,” he answered. “So what does your business do?”
“You really don’t know, do you?”
Logan shrugged, still feeling lost like he was missing some huge piece of the puzzle that was incredibly obvious.
Francesca’s pretty brows knitted together in confusion. “I own Diamond Savoy Couture; we’re a high-end fashion shoppe in the Valley. I — ” She paused for a long time, looking a little embarrassed. “My mother and my siblings and I, we have a reality show, à la the Kardashians. It’s about us rich kids being silly and not knowing how the world works and our various projects. We have such good ratings that I thought … Well, it doesn’t matter. You don’t know us, but you don’t seem like the type to watch reality TV anyway.”
For a second, Logan just stared at her. “You’re serious?”
Francesca just shrugged in response before grabbing her car keys off of the counter. “If anyone drops by, don’t answer the door. Just sit here and, like, watch TV or something. The remotes are all by the TV somewhere. I think Paula left them in the basket where they belong.”
“Paula?”
“Can you do anything but ask questions?” Francesca laughed. “Paula is my maid that comes every other day. She was in yesterday and shouldn’t be here today. But if she stops by, just ignore her. I’ll be back in an hour.”
And Francesca was out the door before he could say another word. Sighing, Logan went to sit on the solid white couch. It was more comfortable than it looked; he sunk into the embrace of the couch like it was a beanbag chair. Grunting in unexpected pleasure, he picked up a few of the remotes from the basket and pondered over their uses.
Seven remotes in total filled the basket, each of them nearly identical from the others. But after a few minutes of experimenting, he realized two things: apparently rich people used remotes for everything, including ceiling fans and blinds, and that Francesca’s TV setup was stupidly complex.
The TV finally came on with a bit of prodding; he found the TV remote, which was separate from the surround sound remote and the cable remote, and settled back to flip channels.
After flipping past a cooking show and some shopping channels, Logan finally found a news station. They were reporting on a vehicle found in the desert, smoldering, and had yet to identify the owner. He laughed out loud at that, remembering watching Francesca’s beautiful body walking away from the flaming wreckage like a heroine from an action movie. He could feel his cock harden at that memory; there was certainly something about her that made Francesca impossible to ignore.
He flipped away from the news, finding Francesca’s face on the TV. Entranced, Logan studied the sexy figure of his hostess on the TV. On the screen, she wore more makeup and acted dumber, but she was still Francesca. All of that carefully controlled attitude was there as she helped to set up mannequins in the front windows of her store, much to the chagrin of someone standing behind her. The moment she was off the screen, he flipped it back to the news, wondering if the national news would be streaming soon.
“And in other news, from Boston. A murder suspect on the run. Last seen riding a motorcycle, this man —” Logan’s face flashed across the television screen, and he winced. “He was seen leaving the scene of a murder. If you see this man, know that he is both armed and dangerous; do not engage, but call 911 immediately.”
Logan felt ill suddenly, and flipped the channel to a sports network. He needed to get out of this house as soon as Francesca came back with his money. The moment he had that twelve thousand in his paws, he would be able to head to San Diego with a clear conscious. He’d managed without robbing the stunning lady who had been so kind to lend him a room. Then he would find a non-extradition country to run to and never look back.
Then I can finally get away from my past and change my
life. Start over. Clean this time. Logan laid down across the couch, stretching out across the amazingly comfortable cushions. Starting over sounded like a great idea. This time, he could do it differently, better. Maybe make up for all those years of doing things on the wrong side of the law.
He meant just to close his eyes for a second, but instead he ended drifting off to sleep, dreaming of tropical beaches and a new name.
# # #
Francesca
“Well, Ms. Savoy, we thank you very much for banking with us, as always.” The banker got up from his seat with a smile on his face, pushing his round, Harry Potter glasses back up on his nose with an unconscious motion. His ill-fitting suit was clearly off the rack, but the man didn’t seem to mind all that extra fabric around his middle and the too-short pant legs.
