Page 13 of Logan

“So, is this your first time?” Clay called from behind me.

I turned around, intending to correct him, but my words died in my throat.

In the thirty seconds I’d taken to regain my composure, Clay had stripped off his coat and draped himself across the hotel bed in a provocative pose.

The long coat made sense, now. He never would have made it through the hotel lobby without getting harassed in an outfit like that. His shirt was more jewelry than cloth, and his black shorts clung to every curve and crease of his body.

Something hot throbbed deep inside me. At first, I didn’t understand what I was feeling, and I stood in the center of the room, frozen with indecision.

Whatever expression I was making must not have been pleasant, for Clay put on an over-exaggerated pout and shifted so that his legs rubbed together.

“Don’t be mad. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s obvious that this is your first time hiring someone. I can teach you a few things, if you like.”

He obviously meant it as an invitation, and even let his legs fall open a little.

The throbbing came again, and I finally realized what I felt.

I was aroused.

Disgust immediately washed through me, and I nearly stumbled away from the bed. Only by gripping onto the arm of the nearby chair was I able to stay standing.

“I’m not...” My stomach roiled and I had to stop speaking for fear that I would throw up. I’d never hated myself more than I did in that moment.

How could I possibly be feeling any sort of desire?

I’d seen beautiful people before. I’d even been propositioned before. It had never affected me. Yet, the sight of Clay splayed out on the bed, enticing me over with both his looks and his words, was almost more than I could take.

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, and the pain brought some clarity back to my hormone-soaked brain.

Clay wasn’t here by choice. He was only here because I’d literally purchased him.

Clearing my throat, I tried speaking again. “I’m not interested in that.”

“Oh.” Clay closed his legs and sat up a little straighter on the bed, but the inviting look in his eyes never left. “My standard rate only includes oral, and sex in the missionary position or doggy style. If you want something more than that, you’ll have to pay more. Upfront. And I won’t do anything that leaves permanent marks.”

The images his words brought to mind left me stunned, speechless.

No.

Focus.

I was here for a purpose.

Shaking away my inappropriate thoughts, I forced myself to speak.

“No, I mean, I’m not here for any of... that.” I waved vaguely in his direction and the bed, trying to summarize everything I couldn’t bear to say in one gesture.

I’d planned a dozen different ways to explain things in my head while I’d been looking for him, but now that I was faced with the man in question, I forgot every single one of them. It probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway. I’d planned my explanations as if talking to a scared child. The man in front of me, sharpened by the harsh realities of the world, wouldn’t have responded well to such a patronizing tone.

Instead, I went for a straightforward approach.

“I’m here because your brother is looking for you.”

Suspicion darkened Clay’s blue eyes, so they looked almost black in the hotel’s cheap lighting. He sat up fully on the bed and tugged at his clothes as if to pull them closer around his body, but there wasn’t enough material. Instead, he just grabbed empty air as he wrapped his arms around himself.

“What are you talking about? I don’t have a brother.”

“Jason Dahler.”

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