Chapter 6
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All I want to do is go home. Maybe because I’ve spent all week avoiding Logan or maybe because later this afternoon is when he’s going to Amy Burkhardt’s house to install her security system. I don’t know which it is, but I know that I’m done.
My phone buzzes, and I practically jump from my seat as Logan’s voice comes over the air. “Bree, can I see you in my office please?”
I put my head in my hands and hold in a groan. Hiding my emotions, I answer, “Sure, I’ll be right there.”
I’ve managed to stay busy and out of Logan’s way most of the week, but there’s no avoiding him when he beckons. As soon as I walk into the room, I stumble over my feet. Logan is seated behind his desk, but he’s pulled a chair up next to him.
The truth is, I’d give anything to work by his side, snuggled up to him, but he’s made it clear that he wants nothing to do with me. Heck, I’m sure he wants this training so they won’t need me anymore and he can have an excuse to get rid of me.
“What’s this?” I ask, gesturing to the seat next to him.
He glances down my body and back up again before clearing his throat. “Training,” he grunts.
I grip the chair back in front of me just to have something to hold on to. “Uh, I thought we could start fresh with that next week.”
He stands up and pulls the chair out next to him. “No, I wanna get started this morning. I have that installation this afternoon, and I’d like to get some headway on how the system and inventory works.”
I’ve stalled all I can. I walk around the desk and sit down in the vacant chair, setting my notepad and pen on the desk top in front of me. “Okay. First, log in to the system. After you do it once, we can check the box so it automatically logs you in with facial ID or a fingerprint.”
He sits down and opens the software. I tell myself to stay professional, but this is nearly impossible.
He smells just like I remember: of outdoors and warmth.
Like sunshine, wind, fresh cut grass, and just all him.
I find myself leaning toward him as if there’s a gravitational pull. It’s too much for me to resist.
“This button?”
He’s gesturing to the screen with his hand, and instead of looking at where he’s pointing, I’m looking at his long, thick fingers and strong forearms. I shimmy in my seat as my lower belly pulls with attraction.
I knew this was a bad idea. I’m going to throw myself at him, and he’s going to fire me on the spot.
When I don’t answer, Logan turns his head toward me at the same time I look at him. Our faces are inches apart. I lean in, wanting to kiss him just once more. Hell, I’d give anything to have his lips on mine again. He’s an addiction for me, and I don’t think I’ll ever have my fill.
My heart starts to race, my body trembles with anticipation, and the sound of the bell at the front door has us jerking apart.
I’m panting as if I’ve been running instead of just sitting here.
Logan mumbles something about how he’ll check to see who it is, but I remain seated, trying to catch my breath. Seconds later, Logan appears with a stack of mail. “It was the mailman. He was asking about you. Since when do they bring it inside? We have a box at the street.”
It all comes out in a jumble, but I can’t make sense of any of it because my eyes are glued to the bulge between his thighs.
I swear his cock twitches in his dress pants as if it’s trying to tease me.
With my mouth hanging open, my eyes travel up his body and don’t stop until they meet his.
His brown eyes, usually flecked with gold, are now black orbs filled with desire, staring back at me.
I shoot to my feet. I know that look on his face, and I’m about two seconds from being bent over this desk with Logan giving me two to three orgasms while I scream his name.
He tosses the mail on the desk and then stalks toward me, not stopping until his chest is pressed against mine.
“It doesn’t matter that I want you. It doesn’t matter that I jacked off thinking about you this morning.
It doesn’t matter that just looking at you makes me hard.
I can’t do this with you, Bree. I won’t. ”
With a hand to my chest, I can feel the wild fluttering of my heart. “I didn’t ask you to,” I stutter.
He puts a hand at my waist and grips me. “Really? You’re not asking for it right now?” He puts his other hand on the top of his desk. “You mean if I laid you down on this desk, you wouldn’t open your legs to me?”
My nipples pucker. I wish they didn’t. I wish I could resist him, but I can’t. Truth is, I wouldn’t tell him no. Even if it meant it was one time, I would take it. Instead of answering him, I whimper.
He sucks in a breath between his teeth. “Fuck, Bree. You would, wouldn’t you? You’d let me fuck you even though I hate you.”
I grimace at that. Hate is such a strong word, but I get it, and I can’t blame him. I lean into him as an answer.
His body tenses, and he lifts his hand from the desk.
I hold my breath until I feel it land on my inner thigh, and then I can’t control the trembling.
His fingers are rough, the kind that belong to a man that works outdoors, not in an office.
I want to ask him if he’s enjoying his retirement from the military and the Ghost Team, but I can’t seem to form a thought as his hand slides up and he palms my panty-clad pussy.
His finger presses against the sodden material, and I lift my hips, wanting more.
His voice is gruff right next to my ear. “You’re soaked.”
He says it accusingly, as if he didn’t expect it.
He has to know that I’m always wet for him.
I slide my skirt up higher, opening my legs.
I’m practically begging for it, and when his finger skims along the edge of my panties and then slips underneath, I’m holding my breath.
As soon as the pad of his finger touches my bare skin, it’s like a jolt to my system.
I grab his arm and hold it, my fingers digging into his flesh.
He presses his digit into my hot, wet flesh and strokes me. One pass over my clit, and I feel as if I’m going to explode. He pulls his hand from between my thighs and brings it to his lips. I watch through hooded eyes as he sucks his finger into his mouth.
He groans as his eyes devour me.
All I can do is stare at him, hungry, wanting more.
He pulls his finger from his mouth. “Fuck, you taste good.”
My chest shudders, and I’m about to sit on his desk and open my legs. Hell, I’m not above begging at this point because I’m so overcome with need right now I can’t stand it.
He brings his hand to my neck, and I’m expecting him to kiss me, but he stops short. His voice is angry now. “I can’t forget that another man has tasted you… has kissed you… has fucked you.”
He lets go of me and turns away. He puts his hands in his pockets, barely opens the blinds, and stares out the window into downtown.
I lift my hand to his shoulder, but he tenses, so I pull back. I adjust my skirt and then hug myself. “Logan, there hasn’t been anyone else. No one but you.”
He turns on me in an instant. “Don’t lie to me, Bree. I saw you.”
I try to explain. “It was a kiss… but I didn’t… we didn’t…”
He holds his hand up. “Stop. I don’t want to hear it.” He picks up my notepad and hands it to me. “We’ll save the training for another day. On second thought, I’ll have Alex do it.”
“But—” I start.
He lifts his chin, and I’m surprised to see absolutely no emotion on his face. “That will be all, Bree. I got what I needed from you. You can go.”
I stumble backwards, pulling my skirt down as I go. Without another glance at him, I walk out of his office, drop the notepad on my desk, and then go to the restroom.
After locking the door, I lean against the counter and stare at my reflection in the mirror over the sink. Anger, regret, sadness, exhaustion… I’m feeling all of it. I’m not sure why I’m doing this to myself. But just as soon as the thought comes, I know the answer.
I stare into my own eyes, remembering the last two years without Logan.
They were hell. It was the worst time of my life.
I take a deep breath and know that eventually I’m going to have to answer the hard question.
Is it better to be apart with him hating me or to work next to each other and feel his hate on a whole other level?
Even though I’d give anything to have what we once had, I don’t think I can take much more of this.