Sparks (Bad Boy Burnetts Book 2) (2 page)

When she had turned to face him, Blaire had taken his breath away. That caramel skin, those warm whisky eyes, those kissable lips… As she had given him a tour of the sizable building, he had just itched to uncurl that messy bun so he could run his fingers through those gorgeous brown waves.

Before he had given her the estimate, Logan had confessed he considered her project—to modify the old building into an upscale art gallery and studio space—a bit overreaching. She had just shrugged. “I know it’s a dump, but it’s got potential. And I’m determined.”

That infectious tenacity had grabbed hold of him. Logan and his small crew had worked their asses off to bring the wiring up to code and to install all the sophisticated lighting she had wanted.

In the end, Blaire did exactly as she had promised. The Belle Mélange made quite a splash with its first showcase of unknown but extraordinarily talented Houston artists. She used the minimally renovated back area of the gallery to host art classes taught by local artists as a side stream of income.

She was amazing. Everything she attempted, she accomplished, maybe not the first time but always on the second or third attempt. Even with the house Blaire had purchased next door, the house he had mentioned during the renovation of her gallery, she had done wonders. Granted, it still required a good deal of work, but she was seeing it through. She simply didn’t know how to fail.

Yet always having her so close to him and so utterly unavailable taxed his nerves. Logan wanted her, but he worried that she might be too far out of his league. He was a college dropout; she had graduated from Sarah Lawrence and then the Rhode Island School of Design. He had never traveled beyond Texas, Louisiana, or Mexico; she had studied in Italy and Germany and lived in Paris for a year. He came from a long line of cowboys and roughnecks; Blaire’s father taught applied mathematics at Rice and her mother helped infertile couples as a reproductive endocrinologist in one of those high-end clinics in the Medical Center.

Since living next to her, Logan had seen the type of men Blaire dated: a professor, a lawyer, a writer, and a doctor. He couldn’t compare. And the thought of being shot down by her terrified him. He loved her too much to lose their friendship. So he watched and wanted and fantasized from afar.

And what fantasies he had had. In his mind, Logan had run Blaire through a series of naughty moves that would have made a porn star blush. Heat streaked through his groin as he pictured Blaire in a particularly wicked position, her pussy just inches from his lips, her legs—.

A frantic knock at the front door drew Logan’s attention. Frowning, he put down his beer and crossed the living room. He flipped the deadbolt and yanked open the door. The sight revealed brought a quirked smile to his mouth. Blaire, dripping wet and obviously frustrated, stood on his front porch in only her hot pink bathrobe.

Loving to needle her, he crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. “Well, well, well, Miss Velez.”

She rolled those beautiful brown eyes. “Mr. Weatherly.”

He slowly raked his gaze down her sopping wet form. “Didn’t I tell you that shower head was on its last leg?”

Blaire
humphed
in irritation. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Will you help me, Lo? Please?”

Silently thanking the heavens for throwing him this chance to be her blue collar hero, he drawled, “Anything for you, Blaire.”

Chapter Three

Blaire stood in the doorway of her bathroom, her eyes glued to Logan’s ass. She couldn’t see what exactly he was doing since the hastily shoved aside shower curtain cloaked him from the waist up but she could hear his grunts and growls. Water soaked his dark blue tee. A litany of rather inventive curse word combinations echoed in the room. Short seconds later, the pipes clanged and the water flow halted.

“There.” Wrench in hand, Logan stood and slung water from his arms. “Temporary fix until the plumbers start on Monday.”

Grinning, Blaire clapped. “You’ve got mad plumbing skills, Lo.”

He laughed and wiped his forehead across a dry patch of t-shirt before carefully placing the wrench on the counter. Her gaze moved to the wet fabric clinging to his rippled abs. He seemed to notice her stare. When he grasped the bottom of his tee and started to lift, Blaire’s heart fluttered. She got the tiniest glimpse of his tan stomach and the top of his happy trail before he paused. “Where do you keep your towels?”

“What?” She glanced up guiltily. He repeated his question. “Oh.” She pointed to the linen closet before slowly retreating toward the door. “I’ll see if I can find a t-shirt big enough for you.”

Blaire hastily exited the bathroom. She rifled through her closet in search of the summer league softball tee she had ordered in the wrong size. Red shirt in hand, she returned to the bathroom. She swallowed hard at the sight of Logan, naked from the waist up. Even in her wildest fantasies, his body didn’t look
that
good. Gorgeous tan skin, toned muscle, a smattering of hair, the occasional pale scar—she yearned to run her hands up and down his chest, to teethe his collarbone.

As if sensing her, Logan’s head popped up. He held her gaze for a moment longer than usual. She felt suddenly uneasy, almost guilty. Smiling, she extended the shirt and started toward him. Her bare foot hit a patch of water and slid across the slick tile. Thrown off balance, she gasped and fell forward.

In a flash, Logan leapt at her, arms outstretched. Somehow he caught her. As they tumbled to the ground, he prepared to bear the brunt. She frantically placed her hands behind his head, desperate to protect him from serious injury. They hit the floor with a muted smack, Logan’s bare back against the tile, her hands smashed between his head and the floor. She awkwardly straddled Logan’s hips, his hands on the small of her back.

Face contorted with worry, Blaire pried her hands from the back of his head and touched his face. She gazed down into his dazed eyes. “Are you hurt? Should I call an ambulance?
Shit!
You’ve probably broken your back—.”

Logan grinned and touched her lips. “
Shh
. I’m fine. Sore but fine.”

Blaire relaxed and smiled. Her hands moved from his face to his chest as she steadied herself. Logan’s fingers slid from her lips to her jaw in a soft caress. His smile confused her. “What?”

“You,” he said quietly. “You’re adorable with your face all scrunched up like that.”

“Like what?”

“Worried,” he explained.

“Of course I’m worried. You’re super important to me, Logan.”

Logan’s expression morphed from amusement to surprise. Blaire silently cursed her stupidity. She had done it. She had let him see how much she cared. His lips parted and closed. Her belly tightened as she prepared for an easy let-down. This was it. She was about to lose him. He was going to give her some line about friends and awkwardness and then she would never see him again, not like this.

Unexpectedly, Logan’s hand tangled in her hair. Without warning, he sat up and pressed his lips against hers. Blaire stiffened with shock and then melted with need. Her arms curled around his shoulders, holding him close as they hungrily kissed. Rather brazenly, she swept her tongue against his lower lip and prodded until he gave access. He welcomed her invading tongue, a low growl emanating from his throat.

As their tongues swirled, Blaire felt Logan’s fingers tugging on her robe’s sash. The lapels fell open, displaying her full breasts, her dark nipples already erect with excitement. He abandoned her mouth and sought the supple peaks. Head thrown back, Blaire moaned with pleasure. His warm tongue teased her sensitive nipples; his strong hands gently massaged her breasts.

Soon, his lips were on her neck, his hands gripping her ass. Feeling her inner goddess, Blaire shoved on Logan’s shoulders, forcing his back to the floor once again. Her teeth grazed the tender skin of his neck and collar bone as she kissed her way down his chest. Tongue flicking across his nipples, she toyed with the crisp hair just above his jeans. She sat up, her knees on either side of his thighs, and unlatched the buckle of his belt. His green eyes darkened as he watched her unbutton his fly and lower the zipper. Logan’s stiff cock had already escaped the front placket of his blue cotton boxers.

"Lift your hips," she ordered and shimmied down his thighs.

"Yes, ma'am!" Laughing, Logan hastily complied with her order, allowing her to tug his jeans down to his knees.

Smiling devilishly, Blaire walked her fingers oh-so-slowly down his stomach to the waistband of his boxers. She peeled the fabric down, revealing his twitching penis and tightened balls. Logan’s breathing hitched as her fingers lightly encircled the thick shaft and teasingly stroked up and down, coming close to the head but never touching. The fingers of her other hand brushed against his testicles.

Desperate to taste him, she scooted down his legs a bit more and lowered her mouth. Her wet tongue swiped the length of him. A hint of salt and his uniquely male scent invaded her senses. Logan’s legs stiffened as she sucked the head of his cock into her mouth, lavishing it with the warmth of her tongue and lips. The fat crown stretched her lips and pulsed against her tongue. He was so hot for her, and it showed.

“Blaire!”

His exclamation thrilled her. Power was one hell of an aphrodisiac, and she loved it. Logan grunted and sighed as she bobbed on his cock. Relaxing her jaw, she took more and more of his throbbing hard length between her lips. She glanced up at him as she started to suck his cock deep into the back of her throat. Resting on his elbows, Logan growled, his face contorting with pure ecstasy as she allowed his cock in the hot, wet alcove at the back of her throat.

Pulling back, Blaire licked her palm, slicking the skin, and worked it in tandem with her mouth. With each downward movement of her lips, Blaire stroked his cock. Up and down, up and down, until his hips lifted up to meet her. Her humming was nearly his undoing.

“Fuck! Blaire!” His hands grasped her face, gently tugging her away from his cock. She playfully flicked her tongue against the underside of the sensitive head, and he shuddered. “Not yet,” he whispered, thumb caressing her cheek. "I don't want to come yet."

Nodding, she moved up his body until their lips met. He worked the robe off her arms and flung it aside. She loved the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer. He grabbed her hips and tugged her upward until she straddled his stomach. Confused, she gave him a questioning look.

“Sit on my face, baby,” Logan urged in a low voice.

Blaire gulped at his frank request. She considered refusing but the look in his eyes, that hungry need to eat her pussy, made her comply. With as much grace as possible, Blaire moved her trembling knees on either side of his head. Logan gripped her buttocks and pulled her down over his mouth. She yelped as his flattened tongue began swiping her wet slit. His rough hands clamped on her trembling thighs, forcing them wide, opening her sex to his exploring tongue. He traced her inner lips and swirled his tongue against her clit.

The sensation he aroused was unlike any she had ever felt. No man had ever taken to her pussy in such a way. Logan devoured her like a starving man, his tongue prodding her core, gathering her juices. His lips suckled her swollen clit, making her shriek and shake. At first, she had tried to remain as still as possible, worried she had inadvertently hurt him if she moved. But that strategy soon proved impossible. Hands on her breasts, eyes squeezed shut, she whimpered and gyrated atop his mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” Logan urged excitedly. “Fuck my face.”

His filthy words spurred her onward. Blaire fell forward, hands on the cold tile. Logan clasped her ass and held tight as he assaulted her clit. Her begging moans echoed off the tile. Toes curling, she panted and rocked against his mouth. She came suddenly, the force of her orgasm tearing a scream from her throat. Wetness gushed from her sex, and Logan lapped it up, his tongue continuing to torture her even as she begged him to stop.

Blaire crawled away from him, her jelly legs barely supporting her weight. She rolled onto her back and shivered with aftershocks. Logan moved closer and pulled her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest. She could smell her musk on his lips as he bent to kiss her forehead. Even though she had just had the most amazing orgasm of her life, she suddenly wanted more.

“Bedroom,” she croaked. “Now.”

Logan grinned mischievously. “Yes, ma’am.”

Chapter Four

As Logan led Blaire into her bedroom, he marveled at this strange twist of fate. All this time he had craved her, had been too afraid to say anything for fear of spooking her, and she had wanted him all along. All it had taken was a set of broken pipes and a slippery floor to bring them together like this.

Blaire paused at her bedside table and retrieved a condom from the top drawer. He sat on the edge of her bed and kicked off his shoes. His socks and hastily yanked up jeans and boxers were quickly discarded. Blaire walked toward him, hips swaying, breasts bouncing. He could still smell her delicious cunt on his lips. Just the thought of her shrieks, her sex in spasm against his lips, made his cock twitch. She was the fucking sexiest woman he had ever seen, and for tonight at least, she was his. He meant to enjoy every minute with her.

Logan took the condom from Blaire’s fingers, ripped the wrapper and deftly applied the sheath to his straining dick. He drew Blaire closer, and they fell onto the bed, both of them laughing and enjoying the moment. She didn’t fight him when he hauled her onto his lap. She moved her knees into a comfortable straddling position and slowly lowered her slick pussy over his shaft. He kissed her, sucking lower lip between his teeth as she took every last inch of him inside her tight, hot channel. Their kisses deepened as she rocked back and forth on top of him.

Gripping her ass and directing her movements, he urged, “Ride me, Blaire. Ride me hard.”

His hands supported her back as she bounced wildly on his cock. He could feel her inner walls clamping around his shaft. It was an incredible feeling and one he never wanted to end. With a hand tangled in her hair, he forced her mouth down toward his and kissed her until they were both breathless. Her hard nipples brushed against his chest. A light sheen covered her body, the warm skin flushed with arousal and exertion.