Page 24 of Baby For The Bad Boy Billionaire

She chokes on her drink. "If you'd suck it up and date him, we could be getting free drinks all the time." She raises her glass in a toast. To what, I don't know, but I play along. Inside, I'm screaming. Free drinks or not, the idea of dating Logan is still completely infuriating to me.

Taking another sip of my drink, I turn and glance back towards the bar. There he is, Logan, the center of attention as usual. His charm draws everybody in as they take the shots he bought them. He scans the room, his eyes finally catching mine.

Shit.

I quickly look away, feeling my face get warm.

I hate how easily he can win people over. But most of all, I hate that I'm drawn to it.

As Logan scoots back into the seat beside me with his drink, a waft of his woody scent - a mix of cedar and fresh ocean, with a hint of something uniquelyLogan- falls over me. It's intoxicating, alluring... and it drives me absolutely nuts. Why, of all things, do I have to findhisscent attractive too?

I shift my attention to the stage, but I can't help but be aware of his closeness. The warmth radiating off him is like a moth to flame, and I - the stupid moth - am trying desperately not to get burned.

The comedian cuts into my thoughts. "And what's the deal with sex, huh?"

The crowd giggles like little kids.

God are we all immature?

"It's like a game of poker," he continues, "if you don't have a good partner, you'd better have a good hand." Everyone bursts into laughter. I can't help but let out a laugh, my eyes darting to Logan and a wicked thought crosses my mind.

I wonder how Logan is in bed?

Bet he's a freak.

Suddenly, it feels as if all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room, and I need to remind myself to breathe. I shake my head, focusing my attention back on the comedian. But it's too late, the mental image has been planted. My mind starts conjuring scenarios involving...Logan.

Images that are far too vivid for my liking.

Bailey! Get your mind out of the gutter, girl.

This is NOT the time or place.

I sneak a glance at Logan. His eyes meet mine, and I swear there's a spark of... something.

Panic floods my system.

Oh god, can he read minds?

Come on, Bailey, snap out of it!

I scold myself again mentally, trying to shake off the vivid images that had begun to take shape in my inner world.

But what if...

A new thought flickers into existence and my mind veers off-course again, painting pictures of Logan's eyes smoldering with unmistakable desire, his hands - dear god, those hands - exploring my...

Stop it!

He's just a guy.

Yeah... A very hot guy...

No,no! Bad brain!

I attempt to reroute my thoughts.

Think of something else. Think of something else.

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