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“No, I—”
“We need to know what he wants.”
Her lips press together, her eyes searching my face before she concludes, “You think Waters got to him.”
“If you’re out of his life—”
“I am.”
“Then I don’t like how it reads with him suddenly showing up. We need to know who’s vulnerable to Waters’ influence and who’s not. Check the message.”
She doesn’t need further nudging and to my surprise, she plays the message on speakerphone.
“Pri, if you’re home let me in. I need to talk to you. It’s about your father. It’s urgent.”
“My parents are worried about the Waters’ case,” I say. “He’s now tasked with scaring me straight, so to speak. Straight out of the DA’s office.”
Another time, I’d ask her why she left the firm, but right now, Logan is outside the door. “Be sure,” I say. “Talk to him. I’ll hide.”
“I hate this,” she murmurs, but she doesn’t argue.
Logan rings the bell again and she scrambles to get dressed, almost done when her phone rings again. She glances at the caller ID. “It’s him.” She answers. “Why are you here, Logan?”
The phone is close and Logan is loud. I clearly hear his reply of, “Just open up, Pri.”
Her name on his lips irrationally irritates me.
“Give me a minute, Logan,” she says, disconnecting and setting her phone on the hall table before sticking her gun in the drawer.
Her gaze scans and lands near my feet, and fuck me, she squats right in front of me, her face at my belly. She’s trying to kill me, I decide, a point she proves when she stands, grabs my hand, and shoves her panties into my palm. “I’m going to fall over if I try to put those on.” She squeezes her eyes shut and then blinks up at me. “And my God, I just squatted in front of your crotch and handed you my panties, didn’t I?”
My cock is officially ramrod hard again and I pocket the panties and step into her, my hand sliding under her hair and settling on her neck, my lips lowering to hers. “Better you give them to me than to him. And better my tongue than his.” She gasps and I laugh, kissing her hard and fast before I thumb away the lipstick on her cheek and say, “Get rid of him quickly.”
I don’t wait for her reply, hurrying into the living room where I grab the champagne bottle by the neck and then finger the glasses with the opposite hand. The champagne goes in the fridge, the glasses on the island before I step into the hallway that runs behind the kitchen and the living room. I’m flat against the wall, just outside the foyer when Pri opens the door.
“What are you doing here, Logan?” she demands.
“Are you going to invite me in?” he asks.
She seems to hesitate. “For a minute,” she says primly.
The door creaks and footsteps hit the foyer before the door shuts again. “Are you alone?” Logan asks.
“Yes, I’m alone,” Pri replies testily. “Why?”
“Because you have that freshly fucked look that always made me want to fuck you all over again.”
My fingers curl by my side, and I decide right then that Logan Michaels will never touch Pri again, not as long as I’m alive.Chapter SixteenPRI
My anger at Logan comes at me hard and fast, the history of our relationship an easily sharpened blade that cuts right to my core.
“Careful, Logan,” I warn, wanting to smack the blond pretty-boy right on his clean-shaven jaw. “I’ll show you my knee and we both know I’m good at putting it in just the right place.”
It’s a reference to one of our final fights when I’d had enough of his controlling ways, which too often got overly physical.
His lips curve in amusement, the air of arrogance a second skin he wears right along with his expensive blue suit. “You are,” he agrees. “You surprised me, but I suppose you had a right to be angry that night.”
“You suppose?” I challenge.
“Looking back gets us nowhere, Pri. Looking forward, everywhere. How about you invite me to the living room for a drink?”
“No drink,” I say, folding my arms in front of me, acutely aware of the draft up my skirt and the fact that I handed my panties to Adrian, who is still in the house. “You need something,” I add. “What?”
“Come on, Pri,” he coos in a low, seductive purr that used to work on me. It doesn’t anymore.
Apparently, tall, dark, and deadly with a goatee and tattoos, is what works on me now, considering my body is still thrumming from Adrian’s touch.
“Let’s sit,” Logan prods.
I clench my fist by my side with the realization that he’s not going to leave until he says his piece. And the truth is that I need to know all I can about anyone or thing that equals vulnerability to Waters, including Logan. “You have five minutes,” I say turning away from him, leaving the door for him to handle and walking to the living room.
