Chapter 2
two
LOGAN
Women have been throwing themselves at me all night. Some with coy looks, some with flirty touches, and still others with blatant offers to suck my cock in a dark corner. Yet, until I heard the beautiful, mouthy woman muttering about dicks before chicks at the bar, I’d been utterly bored.
It was a new sensation. One I don’t particularly like. Pretty women are my escape. They have been since I hit puberty and my lanky frame filled out with muscle. I was starting to worry there was something wrong with me, but then my dick perked right up at the sight of her.
Rich skin the color of warm sand, big brown eyes, long eyelashes that brush high cheekbones when she blinks, and full, pouty lips I want wrapped around me.
She’s tall for a woman. Lithe but toned, with generous cleavage, a nipped-in waist, and an ass I want to dig my fingers into.
Warm brown curls with highlights skim across her shoulders.
Every impulse inside me screams to tangle my fingers in those curls, but I manage to keep my hands to myself—for now.
Or until I make sure she said what I think she just said.
“You want to get out of here?”
She arches one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Don’t you? We could go up to the VIP lounge and hang out with your buddies for fifteen minutes, then make our excuses. Or we could get a hotel room now and cut out the bullshit.”
Fuck. Straight to the point. No nonsense. My kind of woman.
“All right, then, beautiful. I’ve actually got a hotel room a few blocks away.
” It’s why we picked this club. The hotel concierge said the drinks were strong and the vibes were great.
Plus, we could all walk our drunk asses back to our rooms without having to call a bunch of cabs.
The preseason hasn’t started yet, and we’re just here for some promotional events, so the coaching staff doesn’t care if we party and blow off some steam.
I expect Blair to ask me what I’m doing in town, that I already have a hotel, but she doesn’t.
“Lead the way, then.”
So, I do. With her slender hand in mine, I make a path through the pulsing crowd and head for the doors.
I breathe easier once we’re out of the club and walking down the sidewalk.
Her long legs keep up with mine easily, but I slow my strides, drop her hand, and wrap an arm around her waist as we walk instead.
“So,” I say, running my hand along her hip. “What do you do for a living?”
Amusement dances in those deep brown eyes, and Blair’s pouty lips quirk in a smile that makes my pants feel too tight. “It’s okay, Logan. You don’t have to pretend to care about me or my life. In fact, I’d prefer it if we didn’t exchange biographies. Or even last names.”
My brow rises at that, and she laughs.
“We both know what this is and isn’t. I don’t want to play games.”
A woman after my own heart. So why do I find myself curious to hear her answer? I shake my head, dislodging the errant thought. Nope. It doesn’t matter what Blair does for a living. It doesn’t matter if she’s rich or poor or single or married. It only matters that she’s willing.
“Oh yeah? And what is this?”
She rolls her eyes and pins me with a sultry look. “Scratching an itch, Viking. That’s what this is.”
Viking? I don’t hate it.
Grinning at the beautiful vixen, I make her the same promise I make to all my partners. “Oh, I’ll scratch more than one itch for you, Blair. I don’t consider the night a success unless I’ve scratched at least three itches.”
“Big talk,” she says teasingly. But I see the heat and interest flaring brightly in her expressive eyes. She’s playing it cool, but she’s not unaffected.
I shoot a quick text to Sebastian Navarro, my friend and our goalie, asking him to have a spare key to his room set aside at the front desk for me.
Because I don’t spend the whole night with a woman.
Ever. And since I’m taking her back to my room, I’ll have to sleep on a couch when I cut and run after she falls asleep.
It’s a good thing we’re here for promotional stuff and not a game.
It won’t matter if I’m a little tired tomorrow.
It sounds like a dick move, and I know it, but I’m always upfront with the women I take to bed. I promise them a good time and multiple orgasms, a good cuddle afterward, but that’s as far as I ever go. I don’t do feelings.
Love is just another four-letter word. A thing people say to get what they want. It doesn’t last, and it doesn’t lead to anything but disappointment.
“Oh, it’s not just talk. I’ll make tonight good for you.
But you should know before we go any further that I don’t do relationships, or second dates, or even breakfast in the morning.
I can give you one magical night, but there won’t be any repeats.
” Every once in a while, this is where a woman will cut and run.
Or get that glint in their eyes that tells me they think they can be the one to tame me.
To get me to change my mind. But not Blair.
She chuckles, the sound low and slightly raspy. It makes my dick twitch. “You think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?”
I… don’t know how to answer that.
“Like I said, Viking, I don’t even want to exchange last names. What makes you think I’m looking for anything other than a good fuck?”
An older couple walking by on the sidewalk gives us a scandalized look.
This is LA. Shouldn’t they be used to this kind of thing?
When I glance at Blair, I don’t see the scheming glint of a wife wannabe.
She means what she said. This is just sex, and I’m relieved I should be able to let loose and enjoy myself without worrying about the potential fallout.
“Fair enough,” I say as we walk up to the massive hotel.
Her eyes go wide as she sees the name, but she schools her expression quickly.
“Then I won’t bother asking if you’d like something to eat or drink before I take you up to my room, strip that dress off your sexy body, and fuck you up against the window. ”
As we make our way to the elevator, a few more heads turn in our direction at my words, but I ignore everyone except the beautiful woman beside me. When her breath hitches and her pupils blow, I know I’m in for a fun night.
I tug her against my chest the moment we’re enclosed in the elevator alone.
Her breasts press against me, her hands go to my arms, and she looks up at me with lust-filled eyes.
“You like the idea of being fucked against a window, baby? Wondering if anyone can see your perfect tits pressed against the glass or the way my cock looks as I pound into your pussy?”
“Christ,” she mutters. “You’re exactly what I need tonight.”
Chuckling, I finally give in to my earlier urge and tangle my hand in her curls.
I gently tug on them, making Blair look up at me.
Her pupils are wide, her mouth falls open, and her breath stutters.
She’s beautiful and just what the doctor ordered to cure me of this slump.
We stare at each other for a moment, then my lips are on hers.
It’s not a gentle kiss. There’s nothing romantic about it. This is pure, animalistic lust, and she responds so perfectly. Swallowing her little gasp, I sweep my tongue along her lips before plunging inside when she opens for me. I kiss her the way I plan to screw her—rough and raw and wild.
We’re both panting when the elevator opens on my floor.
I take her hand and lead her wordlessly to my door.
Getting the keycard to work takes a few tries because my stunning partner for the night goes up on her toes and kisses my neck.
It’s distracting as hell, and any blood flow I had still pumping to my brain heads south.
When the lock finally disengages, I retake her mouth and we stumble inside.
Neither of us wastes any time. Her fingers fumble with the buttons on my shirt as I slide the strap of her dress off one shoulder and kiss my way down her neck. The sexy little sounds she makes drive me wild. She’s confident and knows what she wants, but there’s something real about this woman too.
When you’re a pro athlete who was raised by a pro athlete, you learn quickly how to spot the women putting on a show.
The ones who know exactly who you are and how much money you bring home.
Maybe they think you’re attractive enough, maybe they’re only attracted to your money and what they think you could buy for them.
Either way, the sounds they make when you work up to fucking them always ring false.
They’re too enthusiastic, too continuous.
Most women in the throes of real passion don’t moan every two seconds like porn stars. They pant and gasp and suck in ragged breaths. They mewl and moan, too, of course, but you have to earn those sounds from women who want more than what’s in your wallet.
Blair isn’t a performative moaner. I can tell that right away.
In fact, I’m positive she has no idea who I am.
Has no idea who any of the Rogues are. It makes her even sexier.
I may not want a relationship, but every single human being on this planet wants to be wanted for who they are. I’m no different.
When she’s gotten my shirt unbuttoned and tugs it off my shoulders, Blair’s eyes go wide.
She likely doesn’t even realize she’s doing it, but she licks her lips as her gaze sweeps over my chest. Her long fingers trail over my abs, making my muscles tighten as her touch tickles me.
They edge closer and closer to where I want them, and I suck in a breath.
“Damn, Viking,” she murmurs, blinking up at me with those big, molten eyes. “Do you live in the gym?”
“Something like that,” I say with a chuckle.
“Exactly what I need,” she says again. This time, she’s not saying it for me, just making an observation. It’s cute. She’s cute. And sexy. And Christ, her body is divine.
Needing to see more of her, I slip my fingers beneath the other strap of her dress and slowly drag it down her shoulder. Her chest rises and falls faster as I tug it far enough to free one perky, perfect breast. Blair whimpers when I cup it and run my thumb over her dusky nipple.
“So beautiful,” I praise, tugging the other strap free.
Like a cartographer on an expedition, I explore and map every swell and peak of her.
I note the way her breathing changes when I lean down and flick my tongue over one stiff bud and then the other.
I chart a meandering trail between the soft hills of her breasts with my fingers and kiss the column of her neck.
She’s so responsive. Blair’s back arches into me. Her fingers play along my shoulders and pull me closer when I slant my mouth over hers. The feel of her hot skin against mine is euphoric. Consuming. It lights me up from the inside, and hot need fills my belly.
This. This is what I’ve been missing.
Clearly, I’ve been with too many women who know who I am.
Who’ve been too eager to give me what they think I want.
Who are afraid to take what they need. Because Blair is taking what she needs from me.
She tells me exactly what she likes with the way her body responds and the sexy little sounds she makes.
There’s nothing boring about what we’re doing.
When I bend down again to circle her nipple with my tongue, she gasps.
“Fuck. I want that tongue on my pussy.”
The mouth on this woman. “Then we’d better get you out of this dress.”
When I finally have her naked before me, I can’t wait any longer. The last of my clothes fall into a heap on the floor before I push Blair onto the bed, trail kisses over her hips and upper thighs, and settle in for round one.
“Wait, is your dick pierced?”
Grinning up at her from between her thighs, I shrug.
“Guess you’ll find out soon enough. But for now, I’ve changed my mind.
I am feeling hungry, after all.” Her sweet taste floods my mouth when I flick my tongue in a slow, exploratory stroke up her slit before using my fingers to part her folds.
She squirms beneath me, her hips undulating in a sensual dance that makes my dick rock-fucking hard. She’s a goddess.
Rocking my own hips against the bed, searching for relief I’m not willing to grant myself just yet, I flick the tip of my tongue over her clit before wrapping my lips around the swollen little bud. I grin when her hips buck against my face and her pussy floods with arousal.
Her moans are the sweetest sound.