Chapter 38
thirty-eight
LOGAN
You’re a dick.
I assume you’re referring to me asking Reyna to the gala?
LOGAN
…
You snooze. You lose.
LOGAN
LOL See you on the dance floor.
Holy fuck. My dick is seriously refusing to behave right now. What’s a guy gotta do to mess with his best friend’s head without all the blood in his body rushing south?
I’ve been subtly skimming my hand just under the line of Reyna’s dress and over her back, but her shivers and quiet, startled intakes of breath are not fucking helping.
At. All.
“How’re you doing, Pretty? Is this too much?”
All she does is shake her head. Her hair smells amazing, and I have the sudden urge to bury my face in it. Shove my dick in her tight, wet cunt. But this isn’t about me; this is about warming her up for Logan.
Shit, just call me Mr. Fluffer.
We need to get him to break. And if I know Logan—which, trust me, I do—torturing myself and Reyna is the only way this shit is going to work. It’s also tons of fun.
Just need to keep my cock sandwiched between us so I don’t scandalize half of Lakeside. It’ll only add another notch to my notorious ‘fuckboy persona’ belt. And now that Pretty is in the picture, those days are long gone.
Tilting her head so her mouth is closer to my ear, Reyna murmurs, “Do you think it’s working?”
I shift my gaze over to where Logan is standing with a bunch of retired fire captains. Jaw set, it’s more than obvious he’s having a hard time splitting his attention between where my hands are, and the group of men in front of him.
Grinning into her hair, I watch as he adjusts his stance before downing the rest of his drink.
Seems his voyeuristic tendencies are kicking in. My guess is he’s fighting against a hard on just as much as I am right now.
“Looks like he’s close to breaking, Pretty,” I murmur.
She pulls back to look at me, gifting me with a smile. “Good.”
As we dance, I notice Logan side-eyeing us as he leaves the other men behind, making a beeline for the Mayor. Who, based on positioning, will put us out of his line of sight.
Smart bastard.
“Can we take a break for a sec?” Reyna’s voice is a little breathless.
“Sure. How ‘bout another drink to take the edge off?” I suggest, guiding her off the dance floor.
As we make our way to the bar, I spot Jax and Sasha. Jax is wearing a black suit without a tie, top button undone. He’s gown out his hair and is now sporting more of a faux-hawk. Sasha looks stunning in a deep emerald dress that makes her red hair blaze.
A few months ago, she’d flirted with me at The Brew, and I’d tried putting the moves on her, but as it turned out, she was only trying to make Jax jealous. And it worked.
“Well, hey there.” Sasha eyes us with a knowing smirk. “If it isn’t the hottest couple at the gala.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” I grin, flagging down the bartender. “White wine for the lady, and I’ll take another whiskey.”
Lips twitching, Jax gives me a nod. “Logan looks like he’s ready to explode.”
“Mission almost accomplished,” I chuckle.
Reyna’s cheeks flush as she slaps Sasha’s arm with the back of her hand. “You told him?”
“Ow!” Sasha whisper-crows. “Why is everybody always hitting me? Yes. I told him.”
Reyna shakes her head with a grin as they both turn to look across the room.
“Poor guy,” Sasha quips, not sounding even remotely close to sympathetic. “He deserves to suffer a little after how he’s been acting.”
“Hey,” Reyna protests, accepting the glass I give her. “I would’ve figured something out. Eventually.”
“Sure you would’ve, babe,” Sasha replies, patting her arm. “But it’s much more fun when we all gang up on him.”
I sip my whiskey, enjoying the burn. “So, Jax, how’s business at the shop?”
“Busy as hell,” he says, wrapping an arm around Sasha’s waist. “We just hired two new artists last month. And Carter is no longer Lizzy’s apprentice.”
“That’s great, man.”
As the conversation shifts to normal every day shit, I can feel Logan’s eyes burning into my back. When I glance over my shoulder, he’s watching us, so I shoot him a grin with a lift of my chin.
His responding scowl makes me grin even wider.
“You know.” Sasha leans in close to Reyna. “If you really want to drive Logan crazy, you should dance with someone other than Brex.”
Reyna’s eyes go wide. “Like who?”
“Like, I don’t know...” She glances over Reyna’s shoulder, sporting a wicked grin. “Alan? He’s been eyeballing you all night.”
Following her line of sight, I spot Alan lounging at a nearby table, nursing a beer, gaze shifting away when he sees me looking.
“No.” The single syllable spews from my lips, making both Jax and Sasha’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Easy there, slugger. You know I’m right.”
Clearing my throat, I dial back the territorial growl in my tone. “I mean, I don’t think it’s necessary.”
Sasha’s eyes narrow, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “Ooooh. Someone is jealous,” she sing-songs.
“What? No,” I lie, taking another sip of my drink. “Alan’s a nice guy, but…”
Reyna looks up at me. “It’s not a bad idea.”
I look down at her. “Seriously?”
She shrugs. “Logan knows what’s up. The last thing he would expect would be for me to go ask Alan to dance.”
I mull it over, turning the idea over in my head.
As much as I hate to admit it, they’re both onto something.
Logan knows what I’m doing—he’s fine with her being in my arms. But seeing her dancing with another man?
Not to mention a guy who works with us? A guy who’s made it more than clear on numerous occasions that he’s into her?
It’s the kind of sucker punch that’ll crack his composure wide fucking open.
“Fine,” I grumble, sulking into my whiskey. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt. One dance. If that doesn’t do it, then it’s me and you, back on dance floor.”
Sasha and Reyna exchange a sly, knowing grin.
Downing half her wine, Reyna shoves the glass into my empty hand. “Hold my drink.”
The sound I make next is a cross between a chuckle and a small groan as she turns to make her way across the room.
My eyes drop to her ass, the deep red fabric clinging to every curve as she moves, then bounce up to Alan’s face. The poor guy’s expression shifts from bored to stunned, then to absolutely elated in the span of about two seconds when he sees her heading his way.
Alan straightens in his seat, practically launching himself out of his chair as she comes up to the table. His head bobs up and down so fast I’m surprised he doesn’t break his neck. He offers her his arm like a gentleman, and she takes it, shooting a quick glance over her shoulder.
I raise my glass in a mock toast, forcing a grin.
Jax chuckles. “Dude. Your face right now.”
“Shut up.”
Sasha’s practically vibrating with excitement. “Oh, this is gonna be good, babe. You think Brex’s expression is funny. Check out Logan’s.”
We follow her gaze to where Logan, mid-conversation with the mayor’s wife, stills, drink halfway to his lips.
Attention hijacked, he tracks Alan as he leads Reyna onto the dance floor like a hawk, claws out, ready to snatch the guy up like he’s a mouse scampering across an open field.
“Yep,” I grin into my glass. “That right there, folks, is the face of a man who’s about to lose his shit.”
Just as they reach the center of the floor, the DJ shifts the music into something slow and dreamy.
Jesus. I couldn’t have timed it better myself.
When Alan places one hand on Reyna’s waist, Logan’s eyes narrow into slits.
My stomach is in knots. Not because I think Alan is a threat, but because she looks so goddamn beautiful swaying under the warm light in that sexy red dress.
“Five…”
Jax and I snort in unison as Sasha starts a countdown.
“Four…”
Logan’s lips pinch into a thin line.
“Three…”
Keeping his eyes on the prize, he bends over to say something to the mayor’s wife, and she nods.
“Two…”
He tosses back the rest of his drink and sets it on the table.
“One…”
Annnd we’re off!