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It was just him and Quinn and that big king-size bed behind him. Win or lose, he knew he needed nothing more than this.
Sex wasn’t a solution—or was it? Would it be his salvation? None of that mattered at this moment. He felt her fingers on the back of his neck, slowly caressing her way to his ear. She traced the outer shell and then pinched the lobe and he felt a jolt all the way down his body as he hardened.
She flicked the lobe of his ear with her finger again and he fought to keep from groaning out loud.
The stakes got a little higher as he realized how many of his turn-ons Quinn knew and was willing to exploit. She pulled her mouth from his, kissing his jawline and then sucking the lobe of his ear into her mouth and biting on it. Then she pulled back and whispered into his ear.
Her breath was hot, her words steamy. “Remember that time you and I were in the hot tub on winter break in Aspen? And you were determined that we wouldn’t do it while others were around? And I ended up on your lap, sitting and talking to our friends while stroking your cock?”
He hardened a little bit more. As if he could have forgotten that.
“I remember that I had my hand in your bikini bottoms and my finger deep inside you. And you kept rocking against my touch as if you couldn’t get enough.”
She nipped at his ear again. “That was a nice night.”
A nice night, indeed.
He turned away from her, shrugging out of his suit jacket and walking slowly across the room to hang it up on the valet in the corner. He felt the weight of her gaze on him as he moved. Knew she liked the way he looked in a suit and that this one fit him to a tee.
He turned back around and she waggled her eyebrows at him. “I do love a sharp-dressed man.”
“I know,” he said. “And I like that dress you’re wearing. You don’t wear them very often, but you have great legs.”
“Thank you,” she said, turning slightly from side to side, letting the skirt swish around her legs. “I love dresses, but no one takes me seriously when I wear one.”
“I can see why,” he said. “All I want to do is takeyou.”
“That’s because you’re always thinking about sex,” she said, reaching up underneath her skirt. A moment later her panties dropped to the floor and she stepped around them.
He groaned as he felt himself hardening even more. She looked so sophisticated and together, and now he knew she wasn’t wearing underwear. It was almost too much and he had to force himself not to grab her and shove his hands up underneath that skirt.
“Care to dance?” he asked. He was going to take this slow and easy. He was playing this game to win; he always played to win. And tonight, he could use a tick mark in the W column.
“What’d you have in mind?”
“I’m not sure. Let me see what I have on my playlist,” he said. He was stalling for time, trying to pull himself back from the edge.
Quinn felt like she might have won that round by dropping her panties. She knew Logan was just taking a breather, and she could use one too. She hadn’t expected that just watching him walk across the room would get her so hot. To be fair, that kiss had started the slow melt inside her. She was hot and horny and ready for him. But she also knew this wasn’t a competition she was prepared to lose. Logan needed a good, long fight, not some easy win.
While she knew she’d feel like a winner either way, Logan needed this score. She wanted it for him. And, to be honest, for them both. But there was a part of her that wanted the win too. She needed to know that these emotions swirling around inside her since they’d had sex on the beach weren’t one-sided.
She wanted to know that he was starting to think about her as more than a weekend sex romp. When she went back to real life on Monday, she was afraid she didn’t want this to end.
She heard applause and then the riff of electric guitar, and shook her head. “Shake For Me.” It was like playing dirty. She loved Stevie Ray Vaughan; the first time she’d danced with Logan this song had been playing. They’d been at a party at a frat house and one of the Texas boys had put it on.
Quinn threw her head back and laughed, remembering the smells of beer spilled on the floor from the keg, and smoke, and then Logan’s expensive, woodsy cologne as he’d come over to her and asked her to dance.
He winked at her. “Will this do?”
“Bring it, boy,” she said, slowly dancing her way over to him. She put her hands on his ass, grinding against him to the music as he put his hands on her waist and did the same. Logan had a natural rhythm and while some men might struggle to feel comfortable in their skin when they danced, he didn’t.
When the chorus came, Logan started singing along, his voice low and gravelly, mimicking Stevie Ray, inviting her to shake like wild.
And she did. Shaking for him as they both danced to the song. Each brush of his body added fuel to the fire burning inside her. His erection nudged her stomach and she wished she was wearing a pair of jeans and a tank top instead of this dress. But the dress worked.
She pushed her leg between his, felt the strength of his thigh as he cupped her butt, drawing her up his thigh and then letting her slide back down. The next song on the playlist was “Pride and Joy.” Another classicDouble Troublesong. And actually, her favorite. They’d had sex the first time while this was playing in the background. It had been three weeks after that first dance.
He brushed his fingers over the swoop of her neck and shoulder and she realized she was limited to caressing him through his dress shirt and pants. But the sundress she wore left her arms, most of her chest and her sensitive nape bare. He ran his finger slowly along the back of her neck.
