Page 6 of Landing Her Eagle
He has his left arm tucked behind his head and his right arm extended to hold his phone up to take the snap. He’s smiling, and his dark brown hair looks like a lover’s fingers tousled it. Does he have a lover? We never discuss that sort of thing. It’s not like we can swap stories. I have nothing to tell. The few dates I went on in high school and college were nothing serious. Nothing more than a couple of chaste kisses and sometimes not even that. I’m not sexy. I’m the girl next door. I’m the buddy. The pal. Whatever.
Logan is sexy, though. I bet he has women hitting on him all the time. Does he take them up on it? What’s his type? Does he only go for shifter girls, or does he date humans too? He dated in college, but they were flings, not relationships. He wasn’t a man-whore, but I’m sure he wasn’t a monk either. He kept his extracurricular activities separate from our friendship.
I love being his friend, but I wish he saw me as a woman. I always thought Logan was attractive, but as I got to know him better in college, I developed stronger feelings for him— feelings I never expressed. It would freak him out. He’d pull away. I’d be lost without his friendship. He’s my person. I would love the whole hearts and flowers experience, but if what we have now is all that I can have with him, I guess I’ll settle for it.
But settling means I’ll never know what he’s like as a lover. I shift in my armchair, uncomfortable and, if I’m being honest, aroused. He’s probably strong and masterful in bed. But not too rough. I don’t want to stereotype him because he’s a shifter, but sue me. I’m curious. He’d know how to touch a woman to make her feel good. I imagine his hands on my body and shiver. I run my hands over my breasts, wishing they were Logan’s. My nipples harden. I’ve never had a man’s mouth on my breasts, felt the rasp of his tongue around my areola. A tongue anywhere. I want that. I want so much. With Logan.
There’s a throb between my legs. It’s time to go to bed for some quality time with BOB, my battery-operated boyfriend. Hope I have batteries.
6
LOGAN
Daphne never respondedto my picture. I hope I didn’t offend her with my teasing. She rarely gets offended by sexual innuendo and is often the first to make an innocent comment dirty with a “That’s what she said.” It’s one thing I love about her.
I’m packing up my gear for my trip. I guess I’ll shoot her a text now since I’ll be out of touch soon.
Me: Hey, got a minute?
Daphne: Hi. Yeah, driving to work. Using voice to text so anything weird is the car’s fault. I’m not suddenly incontinent.
Let’s assume she meant illiterate.
Me: I may be hard to reach for a couple days, so wanted to check in and wish you a wonderful time this weekend.
Daphne: Where are you going?
Me: Checking out things and doing a lot of editing. You know how I lose track of time.
Daphne: Oh. Okay. When are you leaving Prague?
Me: Soon.
Daphne: Where are you going Nexium?
Me: Next? Not sure. Still figuring things out.
Daphne: See, you need me. I’d have everything planned for you. You’d just have to show up. I can turn around and go home now and start planning.
Me: Lol, you truly don’t want to go to work, do you?
Daphne: Nope.
Me: So do something else.
Daphne: I’m thinking about it.
My brows lift. Daphne hates change, so for her to even be thinking about it is a big deal.
Daphne: I’m pulling in. Now to go waste eight hours. I need a blow job. Have a good one.
Me: Me too. Bye.
Somewhere in my brain, I notice what I just wrote, but louder alarm bells are ringing out all over, and I’m trying not to panic.
She’s ready for a change. Finally. And I’m not there. If she jumps when I’m not around, some other guy may catch her. Liam might catch her. And never let her go.
7
