Page 8 of Dirty Dealers


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Kass

My insides won’t stop trembling. I knew seeing Logan for the first time in so long would be hard, but I had no idea how overwhelming it would be. It’s like being hit by a thirty-foot tsunami. No survivors.

The moment I heard his voice, I chickened out. I ran away, hoping he didn’t recognize me, but of course he did. Of course he chased after me. Our past is too strong, too fierce and demanding for him not to.

I couldn’t breathe. I could barely speak. I was defenseless against the onslaught of feelings simply being near him provoked. So many memories assaulted my mind. I’m surprised I kept my footing.

Returning to my tiny, second-floor walkup, and I can’t shake the memory of his mouth covering mine. The firm brace of his lips and the soft scruff of his beard…

He’s so much bigger than he used to be. He’s always been tall, but back then he was lanky, playful, and teasing. Sassy Cassie. Oh my god! I can still hear him saying it with that cocky grin. I can still remember going wild with fury, jumping on his back and beating my palms against his skin, demanding he take it back.

He’d only laugh and run us into the ocean, drag me out to sea as he covered my mouth with his, slipping his long fingers into my bikini bottoms, stroking me until I would moan with need. All the anger would disappear when he slipped inside me, rocking me to a swift orgasm as I kissed him like he was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted.

He was…

Now he’s a mountain of a man, tall and dark. He has a beard that bristles against my skin when he kisses me. He’s so different, yet so familiar. I’m a little afraid of what will happen if he takes me. If… As if there’s even a question after that kiss.

Our reunion in every sense of the word is a foregone conclusion, and I’m simultaneously thrilled, nervous, devastated, and heartbroken. I know I’ll never recover from this.

We’re both in vastly different places than we were that summer six years ago. I was taking care of my little brother and struggling to hold down three jobs. Logan was old enough to join the military, and he saw it as his ticket out of the working class. He was the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen with that dark, silky hair and those hazel-blue eyes. Yes, he was playful, but he was also focused, even then. He hid a seriousness that only I saw.

Now he’s one of the king’s elite guards, and I’ve forfeited the right to even dream about him.

Only I do dream about him. I never stopped.

The click of nails on hardwood fills the air, and I hear soft yipping around my feet. Dropping to sit on the top step, I greet my neighbor’s little dog.

“What are you doing out, Henri?” My voice is soft, cooing, and he licks my chin, going for my mouth. I only laugh, catching his soft muzzle and moving it down. “You’re so French,” I tease, and he nods his head, attempting to free his face so he can lick me again.

“Stop now,” I say gently, placing my hand on the top of his head and sliding it down his back. He calms at once, dropping his nose. I continue stroking but the action of petting him does little to ease my raging insides.

“Oh, Henri, I’m in trouble now,” I whisper. The small dog scoots further into my lap. “I thought I’d packed all those emotions up tight, but now I see how wrong I was.”

A little further down the hall, a door scrapes open, and the dog’s head pops up. “Henri!” I hear Luc, my neighbor’s crackled call.

A gentle pat, and the little dog jumps up to scamper home. “Ah! Vous êtes là.”

There you are, I hear Luc saying to his dog, and I long for a simple life of walking the dog, staying up late, getting up early.

“Bonne nuit, Henri. Bonne nuit, Luc,” I say softly. Good night.

His door pushes closed, and I assume they didn’t hear me. I enter my lonely apartment, thoughts of Logan still spinning in my head.

Sliding the zipper down my side, I push the silky black dress off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. I step out and cross the small, studio apartment to the queen sized bed that takes up most of the space. Unfastening my bra, I let it drop as I climb onto the soft duvet, pulling a pillow against my chest and curling around it.

Limerence: The euphoric feeling of desire and wanting to have it reciprocated. Curling my tongue over the L, I rub my hands over my upper arms, remembering how Logan’s rough palms felt against my skin.

I’d been so close to tears as I walked with him through the garden. He’s still so beautiful, perfect and strong, and I’m so broken and dirty. God, I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know how I can go through with it…

He said I was the strong one, a survivor, but he has no idea all I’ve had to do to survive since I saw him last. I can’t tell him how the hits had kept coming, harder and harder, like the storm surge in a hurricane, walls of water knocking me down to my knees, to my face. The only thing that kept me going was Cameron. I had to do what I could to keep him safe until he was old enough to stand on his own.

My phone lights up, and my heart plummets. I don’t want to look at it. I don’t want to see the text. I wait, lying on the bed, feeling my heart pounding in my chest as my mind trips over this evening at the Royal Casino. Seconds slip past, and it buzzes again. If I don’t respond, he’ll come and check on me. I can’t have that.

With trembling fingers I reach for the phone, and just as fast, my insides release when I see it’s a number not yet saved in my contacts…

Just wanted t

o say goodnight again. It was hard to let you go, Sass. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six. Bring a swimsuit, and text me your address.

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