Page 81 of Logan
“She doesn’t have an issue with my taste. She just likes to annoy me,” I say. She needs to shut up before she ruins everything. And I don’t appreciate the implications about my taste either. There’s nothing wrong with my taste.
“So, what happened?” Valentina gives me a reproachful look, then leans forward, all attention on Sloane.
“He said, ‘You wanna fuck? No problem.’ And then he fucked my tits.” Sloane winks at me. “The dress was ruined. You can imagine.”
I cough.
Everyone looks at me.
Wolfson laughs out loud. “You surprise me, man.”
“Didn’t think you’d be the wild one in bed.” Valentina grins at me. “You seem so...uptight. Especially after seeing the photo of your ex.” She pats Sloane’s arm. “You’re so much better for him. Did he even know how to fuck properly before you came along?”
I cough again.
“Need some water?” Wolfson offers, patting my back.
“I have no problem in bed,” I say through gritted teeth, biting out each word. That’s it. They can say what they want about me, about my business, but implying I’m bad in bed? What the fuck? Even I have a limit.
Sloane’s mouth falls open. “Don’t be offended, babe. You know you’re a sex god.” She turns to Valentina. “No, we have no issues in that department. You know, there’s an advantage to a serious man in bed. He doesn’t give up until I come at least three times.”
Valentina’s eyes widen.
“Oh, man, you’re not doing me any favors here.” Wolfson chuckles. “Now, before my wife gets any ideas, maybe we should sit down to eat?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
SLOANE
Iwrap my arms around Logan’s chest, still panting from the second orgasm. “We’re on the carpet.”
“Do you want to continue this on the bed?” he asks, trailing his fingertips down my spine in a feather-light caress that sends delicious shivers rippling through me.
“Continue?” I gasp, pulling back to gaze into his piercing blue eyes. “No. I need some rest, you insatiable man. You’re not exactly going easy on me, you know.” I laugh, playfully swatting his muscular shoulder.
A disappointed look crosses his face. “I was hoping for another round before I fly out tomorrow.”
“What?” I sit up, the hazy veil of post-coital bliss evaporating in an instant. I snatch up my shirt that’s thrown on the carpet beside me and yank it on. “You’re flying out tomorrow? When were you planning on telling me this little detail?”
“I closed the deal, so my goal here is achieved. I need to get back to run the company.” His matter-of-fact tone cuts through me like a jagged blade.
“But I’m here until next week. I thought...” What did I think exactly? That he would stay for me? He’s here for the deal. That’s the reason he came. We didn’t suddenly become a couple. I get up and put on the rest of my clothes.
“Where are you going?” He reaches out and grabs my wrist, trying to stop me. Concern etches his brow. “Wait, are you angry? Talk to me, Sloane.”
“No,” I bite out, yanking my arm free from his grasp. I can’t bear to look at him, can’t let him see the hurt and betrayal surely written all over my face.
“I can’t stay. You know that.”
“I understand.”
He stands and pulls on his pants. I’m almost grateful for it because his naked body is too much of a distraction, too painful a reminder of what I’m losing. “I thought we had an understanding,” he says, running a hand through his tousled dark hair.
I force my lips into some semblance of a smile. “Yes, of course. We do have an understanding. I just thought I had a few more days with you, that’s all. But I’m fine, really. I’m not angry.” The blatant lies taste bitter on my tongue.
“I knew this was a bad idea.” He rubs a hand over his face and begins pacing the living room. “Shit. I’m so stupid. What did I think would happen? Of course, this would end badly. And now you’re angry with me, and I hate that.”
“As I said,” I grit out through clenched teeth, “I’m not angry. You can go back to your job, your real life, and I’ll goback to mine. I’ll pretend we don’t know each other. Don’t worry.”
