Playing with Temptation (17 page)

Above her, his gaze was dark and dilated, unfocused, and there was one more thing she wanted from him. “Kiss me, Logan,” she rasped, needing that connection.

Without hesitation, his mouth slammed down on hers, his lips forcing hers apart and his tongue sinking deep. He fisted his hand in her hair and tilted her head back so he could ravage her mouth in a blistering kiss, the same way he was plundering her body, as though he couldn’t get enough of her.

Her heart raced as she reveled in the all-consuming passion enveloping her, at the extreme ecstasy rippling through her veins, at Logan’s sheer dominance that with any other man would have had her rebelling but, with him, made her feel so free in places she’d kept a tight rein on for so long.

With that thought, she emptied her mind of everything but the exquisite sensations building inside her and gave herself over to Logan once again with utter abandon, which was becoming increasingly easier to do. Her orgasm milked him, her inner contractions clamped down on his cock, and he tore his mouth from hers as his own climax blasted through him.

He threw his head back as he came, a hoarse cry escaping him as he pounded savagely into her, making good on his promise to leave her sore and aching in the best possible way.

R
aina had been
sleeping by herself for a very long time, so why did waking up in bed the following morning without the warmth of Logan’s body wrapped around hers make her suddenly feel so cold and alone? Especially after the incredible night they’d spent together and all the ways he’d branded her with his wicked mouth, his clever hands, and his hot, hard body.

She had only herself to blame for Logan being gone. Once he’d had his fill of her and she’d been limp and sated with pleasure, he’d gotten out of bed and said, “It’s getting late and I should go,” and she hadn’t argued, even knowing if she’d asked him to stay, he would have. Last night, she’d appreciated that he was respecting her space—having hot, mind-blowing sex with him was one thing, but spending the entire night cuddled against him established an intimacy that had no place in their short-term affair.

So, after ensuring that her apartment was locked up tight for the night, he’d left and she’d returned to bed, where she couldn’t stop thinking about all the bad, wicked, and wonderful things Logan had done to her.

Those illicit memories flooded her mind, and with a soft groan, she buried her face in her pillow, inhaling the decadent scent of sex and Logan still lingering on the linens. The heady fragrance shot through her system like an arousing drug, making her tingle in very tender places, reminding her just how thorough a lover Logan was. He had no qualms about pushing her beyond those sexual and physical boundaries she’d erected with other men, in ways that made her wild for him. In ways that made her
beg and scream
, which clearly stroked that masculine ego of his.

God, he was the epitome of an alpha male, she thought with an indulgent smile. He was confident, aggressive, and dominant, with a dirty mouth and a penchant for a bit of kink, and Lord help her, she was quickly becoming addicted to the intense pleasure that he always,
eventually
, provided.

She’d never felt so utterly and completely consumed with passion for a man, to the point of letting go of her inhibitions, all because she trusted him…with more than just her body, she realized. There was no way she could let Logan do the things he did to her without trusting him with her emotions, as well, and that startling realization made her heart jolt hard in her chest.

Until she remembered Logan’s sister and brother-in-law, who he’d coerced her into having dinner with later that afternoon. A sweet, seemingly conservative family who would probably be shocked, possibly even appalled, to discover exactly what she did for a living.

Yeah, she was being pessimistic, but her past experiences had proven that most people who’d never used erotic toys or sensual accessories to enhance their sexual pleasure viewed her shop as lewd and depraved, rather than a tasteful boutique. It was a crappy stigma she’d learned to live with, and normally she didn’t give a damn what other people thought of her. She hated that Logan’s sister’s opinion of her mattered so much when this visit was nothing more than a one-time deal because Logan didn’t want her spending the entire day and night alone, cooped up in the apartment.

Even though she was having second thoughts about meeting his family, she knew if she tried to back out, Logan wouldn’t let her. He’d show up at her door, and being the pushy, take-charge guy that he was, he’d no doubt toss her over his shoulder and carry her out to his car if necessary.

Yeah, that was just his style—pure Neanderthal.

The thought made her laugh and lightened her mood, which was exactly what she needed. She rolled out of bed, raised her arms over her head, and stretched all the kinks from her tight, sore muscles. She took a long, lingering shower, washed her hair and shaved her legs, and dressed in a comfy pair of cotton shorts and a tank top. After eating a quick breakfast, she headed into the second bedroom in her apartment, which she’d made into a home office, and worked on the store’s payroll, and paid product invoices and checked inventory.

The afternoon went by quickly. Before she realized it, it was nearly time for Logan to pick her up, and she headed back into her bedroom to get ready. Wanting to look as conservative as possible so she fit in, she curled her hair in soft waves, applied a light application of makeup, and chose a modest sundress in a pale green color, with a flared skirt and pearled buttons fastening up the front to cover any cleavage. Just as she finished slipping her feet into a flat pair of white leather sandals, the doorbell rang.

She glanced into the peephole to make sure it was Logan, then opened the door, her traitorous heart fluttering like an infatuated school girl at the gorgeous sight of him. He was wearing a navy blue USMC T-shirt that outlined the breadth of his wide shoulders and solid, muscular chest and a pair of dark jeans that molded to his lean hips, thighs, and the soft, substantial bulge beneath the button fly.

A shameless heat trickled through her, and she bit the corner of her lip and raised her gaze back to his. “Hey,” she said breathlessly.

A lazy smile curved his sensual mouth. “Hey, yourself,” he murmured as he strolled into her apartment, the light, woodsy scent of his cologne adding to the other arousing chaos swirling deep inside of her.

She closed the door after him, and he turned around, his hooded gaze now taking in
her
attire. His heated stare made her feel stripped naked, and her breasts responded to his visual caress, beading tight in her lace bra and against the cotton material of her dress. He licked his lips hungrily, and knowing just how good his mouth felt sucking on her breasts, she went weak in the knees.

She pointed a direct finger at him. “Stop looking at me like that.”

He smirked. “I can’t help it. You look so pretty and sweet in that prim and proper dress, when I know just how wild and wanton you
really
are.” He moved toward her, slow and purposeful. “I think I might need to dishevel you a bit before we go.”

Her pulse leapt with a startling clash of panic and excitement. She shook her head and flattened her palm on his chest,
trying
to resist him. “No.” As much as her body would enjoy the quickie he was suggesting, she wasn’t about to arrive at his sister’s post-sex, looking tousled and completely debauched.

He tipped his head and arched a commanding brow. “
No?
” he questioned in that deep, dominant tone of his, the one he used in the bedroom with her. The one he expected her to obey. The one that made her wet, because she secretly loved how confident and assertive this man was when it came to the sexy games they played.

She lifted her chin with enough disobedience to get him hot and bothered, too. “No,” she repeated, both defiant and firm.

The heat and amusement flashing in his narrowed eyes was an arousing combination. He jammed his hands on his hips, when Raina suspected he wanted to put them all over
her
, instead. “Then be prepared to make up for your insubordination tonight when I bring you back home.”

The sexy threat started a slow burn deep inside of her, and she added a bit of fuel to the wildfire he’d just ignited between them. “Anything you want,
sir
,” she promised oh-so-sweetly, knowing whatever kind of kink he had in mind would ultimately be her pleasure.

A low, toe-curling growl rumbled up from his chest, and as much as Raina knew that Logan wanted to pounce and assert that bad-boy authority of his just to prove he could, he refrained from doing so and respected her request. “Let’s go, before I change my mind and fuck you right here, up against the nearest wall, until you come all over my cock and you smell like
me
.”

She shivered, and her pussy clenched from the mental images his statement created. God, the man had a way with words that completely disarmed her, and if making a good impression on his family wasn’t so important to her, she would have let him shove her up against the nearest wall and claim her so primitively.

Not wanting to risk pushing him to that snapping point, she retrieved her purse and ushered them out the door before they were late. It was a beautiful, warm sunny day out and very quiet around her apartment building, and it felt quite normal walking out to Logan’s vehicle with him—not as her bodyguard but as a couple. It was at moments like this when Raina began to think that everything was fine, that whoever had left the handcuffs on her door had done so as a stupid prank.

Nothing else had happened in the three days that had passed, no intimidating gifts or notes or anything remotely threatening, and she was fairly certain that the building tape would reveal some kid playing what he considered a practical joke.

And once that was established, there would be no need to see Logan on a daily basis any longer.

The thought caused a pang in her chest, one she was quick to shove away as Logan opened the passenger-side door of his black Camaro for her. She slid into the leather seat, buckled her belt, and waited for him to join her behind the wheel.

Once they were on their way, he glanced over at her and asked, “How was your day today?”

“Boring,” she said honestly. “I worked on business-related stuff.”

He sent her one of his patented wicked looks. “You know what they say about all work and no play…”

She laughed. “When you own your own business, the work is never ending. Besides, I’ve been playing way more than usual because of
you
.”

He arched a dark brow. “Are you complaining?”

“Not at all,” she replied with a shake of her head. “You’re fun to play with.”
In oh-so-many ways
.

“So are you, sugar,” he drawled.

The low timbre of his voice made her shift restlessly in her seat. “How was your day?” she asked, curious to know how he’d spent his Sunday morning and afternoon.

“Busy.” He merged onto the freeway and accelerated his speed. “I did some kickboxing this morning, then came home and got some yard work done. Mowing, edging, trimming.”

She was surprised to learn he did his own landscaping. “You don’t have a gardener?”

“No. I actually enjoy doing it all myself,” he said with a shrug. “Ever since I was a kid, it was my job to do all the yard work for my grandma, and I’m particular about how I like the lawn to look. I like being out in the sun, and I like to sweat.”

The thought of him shirtless, his tanned chest glistening with perspiration and his muscles flexing as he mowed or trimmed, was a very heady image. It wasn’t often that a guy actually enjoyed physical labor, embraced it even, and she loved that about Logan.

“After the yard was done, I spent a few hours at a friend’s house,” he went on. “Sawyer and I work together, and he recently bought a ’69 Pontiac GTO that was having engine problems, and I’ve been promising to help him out. I love working security, but I miss working under the hood of a car, and I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to tinker on a classic muscle car.”

She smiled at his enthusiasm, remembering him telling her he’d worked at an auto shop for a few years before he went into the military. He continued talking about the GTO and spoke in engine lingo that she didn’t understand, and because it was a topic that he was clearly passionate about, she let him talk while she listened and asked questions that he enjoyed answering.

Twenty minutes later, he exited the freeway in the city of La Jolla, an affluent area just outside of San Diego. As they drove through an upscale neighborhood, Raina felt the nerves she’d tried so hard to keep at bay start to swirl in her stomach. The anticipation of meeting the people who meant the most in Logan’s life. The foolish need for them to like her. And that awful fear of ultimately being judged and rejected.

By the time Logan parked his car in front of a beautiful ranch-style home and turned off the engine, her unease must have shown on her face because he reached across the console, grabbed her hand, and gave it a squeeze.