Big Girl Panties (17 page)

Chapter Fifteen

F
ound it!” Logan exclaimed as he pulled Holly's sneaker from under the weight bench, wondering how it managed to roll that far. He strolled back to the stretching room and stopped in the doorway. Holly was still on the mats, pulling his shirt over her head. His clothes looked good on her. His hands had looked good on her, too. When she didn't respond, he tossed the sneaker onto the mat beside her. “You're not going to believe where I found it. I don't think I've made a throw like that since I played baseball. I guess I should be lucky I didn't break a window.”

“Thanks” was all she said, deliberately avoiding his eye, grateful he hadn't arrived a moment sooner to catch her smelling his clothing, a schoolgirl-like attempt to fix in her memory an experience she knew could never be forgotten anyway. She picked up the sneaker and began putting it on, appearing as if it took all of her concentration to complete the menial task.

Where was her witty retort or playful comeback? She was all but ignoring him. Not bothering to look for another shirt of his own, Logan leaned against the door frame and folded his arms across his broad naked chest, smiling.

“Hey,” he called to her softly. “Look at me.” He waited for her to meet his gaze, which she did with hesitation. “Why suddenly shy?”

Holly felt the flush creep up to her cheeks. He was so damn handsome, so damn charming, and too damn comfortable with all of this. She itched to slap the lazy grin off his face.

“I was just trying to remember if I read anything in our contract about this sort of thing.”

“It's in the fine print.” Logan grinned at her. “Check the back.”

“I'll bet,” she retorted acerbically, returning to realigning her shoelaces by yanking on them. “Glad to see you cover all your bases.”

“Holly,” he crooned to her, fully aware of the sudden and drastic change in her disposition. He walked over and sat down beside her, giving her shoulder a nudge with his own. “This is not the same woman who ten minutes ago was gasping my name. What do you think is going on here?”

“Nothing at all,” Holly told her sneakers as she tied them, refusing to be taken in by his charisma and what she presumed was the smarmy gym equivalent of pillow talk. “Just don't think I'm going to pay more for this kind of service.”

“Excuse me, young lady,” he said sternly while reaching out his hand to cover hers, forcing her to stop what she was doing, “but this has gone beyond punny. Are you regretting what just happened?”

“Are you?” she quickly spat back, her eyes snapping up to meet his.

“I try not to do anything I'll regret. And at the risk of making one more horrible pun, I certainly don't regret doing you.” He nudged her again.

“Do you say this to all your clients?”

Logan smiled. So her green eyes did hold a little bit of the monster.

“Only the men.” He caught her off guard and laughed at her look of utter astonishment. Then he continued sincerely. “I won't lie to you, kid. I have, on occasion, slept with a female client. But what just happened here? This was different, special. I wanted it, badly. I've watched it slowly build for weeks, even tried to fight it. Trying to ignore it only made it worse. Oh yeah, I wanted it.” He looked around before settling his gaze on her again, one filled with mirth and affection. “I didn't exactly picture it like this. But I've really come to care about you. I hope this is only the beginning of something. I hope we get another chance.”

She stared into his face for a long moment before cautiously reaching out to run her fingers down his granite bicep, as if to confirm the whole occurrence hadn't been one of her dreams. As if to make sure all the sweet, warm words she'd just heard really did come from this living, breathing, walking piece of perfect man candy. When she reached his forearm, he grabbed her hand and kissed it before standing up. He reached out to her, and taking both her hands, he pulled her up beside him for a quick solid hug.

“But I'm not sure how many shirts I have here, and my next client is due in five minutes. So it's probably best to wait before we go another round.”

Holly left the gym, thankful she had escaped before his next client arrived. She was sure what she had done was written all over her now-sexed-up face. She drove home, her mind awash in confusion. If her life was a screenplay, this would have been the part where the sentimental uplifting music would play, the credits would start to roll, and everyone would get up out of their seats and leave the theater, all warm and gushy.

But her life wasn't a romantic movie and she certainly wasn't a movie star, although her costar certainly looked like one. Time had stood still, and for a few fleeting minutes she had become the ingénue to a real-life idol. What was she supposed to do now? She'd let her guard down and the result was getting seduced by the kind of man she had only dreamed about. It was impossible to believe that thanks to an exercise regimen, a haircut, and some new threads, she had transformed into an irresistible beauty. Sweet Jesus, she wasn't even blond! Obviously, the man had taken some momentary leave of his senses or had been overcome with the urge to pity-fuck. All the lovely things he said afterward, including the confession that he had wanted her for weeks and had fought it, were probably said in the effort to keep her from freaking out in his gym and possibly even keep her as a client with no hard feelings.

But worse yet, if he did mean them, that would pose a much bigger dilemma. How on earth was she supposed to continually hold the attention of a man like Logan Montgomery? Holly wasn't sure she had the intestinal fortitude to keep up with his high-profile lifestyle or fend off every woman who wanted a piece of him. And then she realized she probably wouldn't have to. His parting words were talk of him fucking her again, not taking her out for dinner or home to meet his parents.

As she waited at a stoplight, her fingers unconsciously ran over her lips as if trying to feel for remnants of his kiss, one that was like no other. A kiss so warm and enticing, it could have been considered obscene. It was a catalyst to every repressed and tucked-away feeling she ever knew she could have. It unlocked her desire to throw caution to the wind and give herself over to those feelings. She giggled, thinking that if he actually had taken leave of his senses, she had been more than willing to join him. In a blur of hands and tongues and mouths, he took her to the sort of climax she never thought possible. From the moment he ripped off her shirt, she had become effortlessly motivated to behave like every sexpot she'd ever read about. Holly flushed anew and squirmed a little in her car seat at the flashback of the whole encounter. She shivered with the memory of his fingers inside her, the way they commanded that she bring that climax forth, the way she literally came into his palm, only to find he was able to make her do it again. The light changed to green and the car behind her honked its horn. She came back to the present and with one more giggle returned her focus to the road.

By the time Holly turned into her driveway, the sun had fully set on one of the most tumultuous days in her recent memory, and she had decided on her best course of action. No matter what the reason, whether pity or arousal, Logan had done her a tremendous favor. He had made her realize that she was once again a full feeling woman, only now complete with sexuality and chemistry and desire. It was yet another thing she could be grateful to him for. He didn't force himself on her; she had been a more than willing participant in what had turned out to be a revitalization of monumental proportions. She would go back into his gym on her next training day and make like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. She would let him off the hook without making him feel guilty for his indiscretion.

As she showered, acutely aware that she was washing off all the intimate and sensitive places his hands and mouth had been, she practiced how she would remain unaffected in his presence, although at first it wouldn't be easy. She would concentrate on keeping her focus on her exercises, just as she did in the beginning. She would let him touch her and stretch her without melting or sighing or being catapulted back in time to just a few hours ago, when his touching her had elicited a manic escapade of wanton passion. She would prove to him that she was mature and fully evolved, perfectly capable of handling a one-night stand without falling apart and becoming a psycho stalking bitch. Furthermore, she would start calling some of the numbers of the interesting, attractive men she'd met who wanted to take her out. She would take Chase's advice and date. She might even actively pursue some of the Kings players that Amanda went out of her way to throw at her. She would make it her goal to start enjoying all the lust and sex that was out there for the offering, secure in the knowledge that if she could excite a man like Logan, she could make a lesser man fall all over to electrify her. She never knew sex could be so spontaneous and explosive, demanding her body's response. Those weren't words that could have been used to describe Bruce when it came to sex. The mere possibility of someone else making her feel that again was euphoric.

She was in the kitchen, finishing an apple that was quartered and spread with peanut butter, when the doorbell rang. She made her way to the door and cautiously looked through the peephole.

On her doorstep was Logan Montgomery.

She pulled away from the peephole and, with her hand covering her mouth, shook her head. What the hell was he doing here? It was too soon. She wasn't ready yet. The memory was still too fresh from their previous encounter. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and unlocked the dead bolt.

She opened the door and tried not to sigh. “I was going to wash your shirt before bringing it back to you,” she lied. He was never getting that souvenir returned.

He smiled, leaning up against the door frame. “I'm not here for the shirt. Can I come in?”

She held open the door and he entered, striding through the foyer and into her living room before stopping and turning around to face her, his hands planted on his hips, speaking in a clipped, serious tone. “I wanted to apologize for what happened before.”

“It's—it's okay,” she sputtered nervously after closing the door and joining him, but maintaining a safe distance. She began to wring her hands. “All that slapping and weeping going on, it was enough to make anyone act out of character. It was just such a nice kiss. I don't know what came over me. I should probably be thanking you. It was . . . fun.”

He tilted his head to one side, smiling again. He dropped his hands and, after taking a deep breath, took a step closer to her. “I think we may be having a miscommunication. Yes, it was fun, but that's not what I'm talking about.”

“It's not?” Holly's eyes grew wide and her mouth, while still open, was unable to produce a suitable retort.

Logan took another step, closer still. “No. It's not,” he said, slowly shaking his head, his stare fixed on her full lips. He moved another few steps until he was right next to her before looking back up and into her eyes, his voice pure velvet. “I wanted to apologize for the ungentlemanly way I took you on my gym floor. Not very well done of me and certainly not my intention. I think I may have mentioned that before.”

“O-oh, that,” she stammered, swallowing hard. He was so close, his meltingly hot stare threatening to take her very breath away, his voice sultry and hypnotic. “Think nothing of it. You could have taken me anywhere.”

He released a single chuckle and, reaching out, gently placed his finger over her mouth to silence her. “Thank you for that very kind offer, but I was thinking more along the lines of someplace a little more private, a bedroom maybe?”

She nodded mutely, unable to tear herself away from his smoldering eyes. He brought his head in, ever so slowly, and softly kissed her. “I really only meant to kiss you before,” he whispered as he took his lips off hers. “Like that.” He repeated the whisper and the action, only this time with his hands creeping up around her waist, pulling her closer to him. “But you lit me up like a firecracker.” He breathed into her mouth, warm and gentle. “I know I mentioned a second chance. Another go-round, if you will. But this time we take our time.” He moved his lips to her ear, the whisper becoming huskier. “Do it right.”

“Right,” she repeated breathlessly, allowing herself to be enveloped fully within his embrace, her head falling back to give him better access to the column of her throat as his mouth began to drift in that direction. His hands glided down her back and up again to settle just below her rib cage before groping upward. The same hands that were usually so precise and thorough now seemed to be everywhere in a frenzy to try to touch all of her at once. She felt the bulge in his shorts press against her. It was hard and full, and all in reaction to her. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him. It sent a fresh rush of passion coursing through her.

Logan roughly pulled at the knot in her robe before none-too-gently pushing her onto the couch. He had arrived at her house with the sole purpose of taking his time, allowing them both to fully experience each other through erotic foreplay. He wanted to fondle her slowly, find and memorize all the spots she had that were the most responsive, the most sensitive to his mouth and his hands. He wanted to become familiar with a body that until a few hours ago he'd known by heart but wasn't at all used to, one with womanly curves and muscle and substance. A body with breasts and a bottom that filled his hands with some to spare, a body whose newness made him ache with an undefined agitation. A body he'd created. To hell with taking his time. With her innocent excitement came the overwhelming urge to bury himself deep inside her again. His ears longed to hear her soft gasps at his invasion. He already knew she was hot and tight, and it was a discovery that shook him to his core. He dropped his khaki shorts, removed his shirt, and pulled off her panties. He ran his hand over the tuft of hair on her mound. Not overly waxed and hairless, but with soft curly fur that would soon be glistening with a wetness he'd produced. Thirsty for it, he kissed her there. Single-minded passes with his strong lips and rough tongue insistently probed until she was both breathless and witless. He lifted her legs and placed them on his shoulders, tilting her upward to bring her in line with him.