Page 36 of Single Mom's Guide to Love

And it’s all Logan Matthews’s fault.

I close my eyes as I apply the device to my clit, hating that I need to feel a release when all I’ve been doing is cursing him internally since I walked out of his mansion the other day. How dare he call me things like beautiful and smart. How dare he wear a tight T-shirt that showed off his arms to a business meeting and made me fantasize about him holding me against awall. And how dare he sound sincere when he said that I’d have free creative rein of the house.

That might have turned me on more than anything else.

And when he grabbed my arm as I was leaving? I know he felt the connection between us too. With one touch, I was transported back to that night. The feel of his mouth on me. How his fingers knew just how to find a spot I didn’t know I had. How rough he was, but without being overly forceful. He was the perfect blend of dominant and tender.

I bite my lip and position the bud in the perfect spot as I let my mind wander back, letting myself get lost in the memory of him driving into me, giving me exactly what I needed.

“Now, Love. Come for me now.”

“Logan!” I yell as my orgasm hits me. It’s not as strong as it was the night in the hotel, but I don’t think that will ever be replicated.

Especially since I’m never sleeping with Logan Matthews again.

I take a second to calm myself down, gently put my toy away, and head to the bathroom. Since it’s just me tonight, I don’t bother changing out of my robe. Why put on clothes when it’s just going to be me, Thai takeout, and reruns ofCriminal Minds?

I splash some water on my face and tug my robe tight as I head out of my bedroom and back to my living room. It’s only a little after five o’clock, but because of the time change it’s pitch black. I run my hand over the wall to find the light switch, finding it quickly and slowly bringing the lights to life.

“What’cha doing, big sis?”

“Jesus Christ!” I yell, covering my heart because I’m pretty sure it just jumped out of my chest. “What the hell are y’all doing here?”

I tighten my robe as I look into my now-lit living room to see all three of my sisters sitting on the couch. Stella looks curious. Ainsley looks guilty. Quinn looks smug as hell.

Fuck, they heard what I just did.

“We’re just checking on you,” Stella says.

“Have you ever heard of knocking?”

“We did,” Ainsley adds. “But no one answered. We saw your car in the garage and a light on in your room, so we figured we’d come in and wait.”

Did they really knock and I didn’t hear? How out of it was I?

“Yes, Maeve. We were worried,” Quinn says as she walks over to me. “And as good sisters, we came in to check on you. We rushed to your door to make sure everything was okay. We almost came in when we heard heavy breathing.”

“I need to say I didn’t do any of this,” Ainsley says. “I stayed right here.”

“Which is a good thing she did,” Quinn continues, her tone now mocking me. “We wouldn’t have wanted Ainsley to hear the moans.”

Was I moaning? “I wasn’t moaning.”

“Oh but you were,” Quinn sits me down on the couch between my sisters. “And now, the question begs to be asked, who is Logan?”

I don’t even bother trying to fight the blush that comes across my cheeks. I was able to fend off Stella the other night. Ainsley would never push me if it were just her. But Quinn? With Quinn here, I know my fate—I have to tell them.

I have to tell them everything.

But I need a second first to gather my thoughts.

And a glass of wine wouldn’t hurt.

“Why are you even here?” I ask Quinn as I stand up from the couch and head into my kitchen. “Shouldn’t you still be inArizona teaching the youth of tomorrow? I thought you weren’t coming in for Thanksgiving until next week?”

Quinn follows me into the kitchen and grabs two bottles from my wine fridge and a bottle of water for Ainsley since she rarely, if ever, drinks. I also throw a bag of popcorn into the microwave, because I need a snack and I have a feeling my sisters aren’t leaving anytime soon. “I had PTO and I took it. Now who is this Logan? Is he in this house? If so, I think we deserve to meet him.”

I shake my head as I grab three wine glasses and take them back to my living room. “He’s not here.”

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