Page 42 of His Fantasy Girl

“They’re the stuff of fantasies aren’t they?” Jess murmured. “X-rated fantasies.”

They were so similar, with the same height and coloring, though Logan looked edgier, with a hint of danger. If Declan was a sleek, well-fed leopard, Logan was a panther, lean and mean and hungry.

She might say she wanted nothing to do with him, apart from what was absolutely necessary for Jenny’s sake, but that didn’t stop her eating him up with her eyes. He added a small swagger to his walk and fixed his gaze on her lips.

Jess was the more beautiful—he’d never met a woman to match her—but his gaze was drawn back to Abby. She had shadows under her eyes. Maybe, like him, she wasn’t sleeping. He’d been trying to keep his distance, but he wanted desperately to see her alone. Somehow he had to persuade her it was in her best interests to let him into her pants again.

“What are you two up to?” Declan asked as they came up beside the two women. Declan moved in closer, wrapping his arm around Jess’s shoulders and pulling her close. Logan wished he had the right to do the same with Abby, to touch her, hold her, as though she was his. The thought surprised him. He’d never been the possessive type.

“Discussing X-rated fantasies,” Jess said.

Logan’s gaze sharpened on Abby. “Have you been telling tales, sergeant?”

“No,” she snapped.

“Tales?” Jess asked. “What sort of tales.”

Abby was glaring daggers at him, so he continued, just to wind her up. If ever there was a woman in need of being wound up, it was his sergeant. He nodded in her direction. “The sarge here didn’t tell you she’s my fantasy girl?”

“Your what?” Declan asked.

“And what sort of fantasies?” Jess added.

“Definitely X-rated. I met Abby just before I was put inside. You could say she was the inspiration for my nightly entertainment.” He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Every night, I’d lie in my bunk and I—”

“Ugh. Stop right there,” Jess said putting her hands over her ears. “I don’t want to hear any more.” She cast a look back and forth between Logan and Abby and smiled. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Abby. I think you’ll be a fascinating addition to the McCabe family. Now, I’m going to go introduce myself to your daughter. I’m an honorary aunt after all. Maybe I could teach her to shoot, or…whatever. Now you two play nice.” She dragged Declan away, leaving him alone with Abby.

Turning to face him, she stabbed a finger in his chest. “Did you have to tell them that?”

“Ashamed of me?”

“No, I’m not goddamned ashamed of you. Just because I don’t want the whole world to know that you spent your year in prison jacking off to some perverted image of me does not mean I’m ashamed.”

“Hey, hardly perverted.” He shrugged. “Okay, a few might get a little risqué but I’ll work up to them slowly.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Temper, temper.”

She gritted her teeth. “You’re just so…aggravating.”

“I know. Let’s go get you another drink.” He waved toward her empty glass. “I think it’s actually loosening you up a little.”

Her jaw clenched tighter. She was in a temper. He liked it. “I do not need loosening up.”

“Have another drink anyway, sergeant.” He led her across the room, took her glass from her limp fingers and sniffed it, then mixed her a vodka tonic, added ice and lemon, and gave it back to her.

“And will you drop the sergeant crap,” she said, taking a huge gulp. “I love what I do, and I’m not ashamed of it. And I’m not going to try to justify it to you lot just because your dad used to be a totally dodgy bastard.”

His lips twitched. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He shrugged. The fact was he used it to remind himself of what she was, so he wouldn’t get too caught up in the whole fantasy thing and get carried away. She was a copper with a perfection complex. He was an ex-con who liked things messy. There could never be anything between them except a brief sexual fling. Having said that, he wasn’t ready to let go yet. The last few days had made that abundantly clear. He was back to jacking off to fantasies of her, and yeah, maybe they were getting a little perverted. Last night’s had involved handcuffs. And it was weird, because if he’d ever considered the whole bondage thing, then it would have been him doing the tying up. But there he’d been, handcuffed to the bed, with Sergeant Abby Parker, naked except for her police hat, riding him hard. He had a twinge and shifted.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, her eyes narrowed.

Jesus, he was a mess. In some ways it would be easier if he could just go and slake his bothersome urges with a more convenient, less complicated woman…or two…and relegate Abby to the role of mother-of-his-daughter. But no one else interested him. Only her.

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