Page 27 of The Alpha's Sin
“You’re probably right.” Logan reluctantly unwinds his arm from around my shoulders. “I don’t know if I could control myself if I had you naked in my bed all night. You’re too fucking tempting, sweetheart.”
My cheeks get even hotter.
“Um…thank you. And thanks for the massage. But maybe…maybe we’d better not do it again.”
“Maybe not.” Logan rubs his face. “God, that fucker, Dirk! I wish I’d met you before he did.”
“I wish that too,” I say softly, sliding out of his bed. “Goodnight, Logan.”
“Goodnight, Poppy.” His deep voice is muted, as though he’s sad. I feel the same way. His big hands feel so right when he touches me and he’s so kind and so good at giving me pleasure. I feel like I’m walking away from the perfect guy.
But I’m not really walking away, I tell myself as I slip out of his bedroom. We’re just putting a little distance between us. I don’t want to make Logan violate his beliefs. And honestly, I’m feeling guilty. I know Dirk abandoned me and stole all my money, but we’re still technically married.
I wish I could find him—not just to get my money back. I also want a divorce!
But there’s nothing I can do about that now. With a sigh, I slip into my own bed. The sheets are cold and I shiver, missing the warmth of Logan’s big body. But we have to put some distance between us. We can’t repeat the actions of tonight.
Telling myself that, I fall into a thin, exhausted sleep, wishing things were different.
17
POPPY
Logan and I try to keep our distance the next week. I think we both know we went too far. But I can’t help wanting to feel his hands on me again…and I see the way he keeps looking at me. His eyes are hungry and I know he wants me the way I want him.
Damn those Unbreakable Laws!
I’m at work at the Dollar Tree, trying not to think about how much I want my own brother-in-law when two scruffy looking guys come in. They have shifty eyes and neither one looks like they’ve had even a passing acquaintance with a razor for some time. One of them is wearing a dirty red baseball cap and the other one is hatless and clearly going bald except for a long, thin rattail braid that reaches to the middle of his back.
They spend some time shuffling up and down the aisles, loading a green plastic basket with candy bars and off-brand chips and snacks. I keep half an eye on them because something about them bothers me. My shift is almost over though, so most of my mind is on seeing Logan again as soon as I get home.
I wish I could hug him and cuddle with him all the time, but things are strained between us now. If only we really were married, I can’t help thinking. If only I could claim him as my husband for real. I’d be the happiest girl in the world if I really was Mrs. Logan Hayes…
My mind must have wandered because the two scruffy guys showing up at my register startles me so much I almost jump.
“Er…hi, find everything you want?” I say quickly, trying to cover my confusion.
“Well, now I have,” the one with the dirty red cap says. He lifts his nose and inhales, sniffing the air deeply. “Whew! Smell that, Leroy?”
The other man—the one who’s almost bald, except for a long, skinny rattail growing from the back of his neck—leans across the counter and inhales deeply.
“Damn—you were right! Ripe for breeding!” he exclaims and his eyes rake over me like I’m wearing a tiny bikini instead of a plain black shirt with a Dollar Tree smock over it.
The way they’re both looking at me makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable. Also, they smell wrong. I don’t just mean they smell like they need a shower—though that’s certainly the case. But both of them just smell wrong to me—like wet dog. It’s a disgusting scent that turns my sensitive stomach and I have to back up as far as I can while I scan their items.
“Here you go—have a nice day,” I say automatically, holding out the cheap plastic bag filled with junk food.
Instead of taking the bag, the balding one leans forward again.
“You got a man, girly?” he demands. “’Cause I don’t smell no male on you.”
“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, trying not to meet his eyes.
“He’s talking ‘bout how you’re clearly in Heat,” the man with the dirty red cap says. He sniffs the air again. “Talking ‘bout how you need to get fucked—knotted and bred.”
I stiffen, glaring at them.
“Please leave. I refuse to listen to this kind of language.”
