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CHAPTER EIGHT
Logan was right aboutone thing.
Emma was wet.
Also, whoever decided everyone was going to play cards before the two of them returned outside with more drinks was going to hell.
It took three and a half more hours before Emma could retreat to her bedroom. By then, she was so goddamn horny, and half of it was her fault.
The other half, Logan’s.
He had sat next to her on the sofa, and just his musky scent and close presence had her body in a coil. Those sexy jeans were tight around his gorgeous ass and lose enough in the leg she could make out his strong thighs.
The heat rolling off his huge body...
She might have been surrounded by four Dufort men right now, but it was Logan who got her hot and heavy.
And wet.
So damn wet.
Logan had leaned back and laid his arm behind her while she had been dealing a hand, and the pull to relax into him was palpable. She found herself blinking into space, imagining him spreading her legs and making her come with his fingers.
Not the right thing to do while in the presence of others.
“Emma. Your turn,” Harper had said, interrupting her erotic fantasy.
“You okay?” Logan had asked quietly, with piles of arrogance in his voice.
Part of her wanted to deny him tonight, the arrogant son of a bitch, but she’d only be denying herself.
Two could play this game.
If he wanted to taunt her, she’d do the same.
So, Emma had leaned back and let out a yawn, forcing him to remove his arm as she stretched out. Her tight T-shirt exposed her bare midriff and pulled across her breasts.
She turned and smiled at him.
His eyes had been dark and dangerous.
“I’m going to bow out. Tired after a big week,” Emma had announced.
“I’ll come up with you. This baby is sucking all the life out of me,” Olivia said, and Fletcher helped her stand.
Not that she was at that stage, but the guy couldn’t keep his hands off his fiancé. It was adorable. None of the Dufort men could stop touching their women. Emma wondered if Logan was like that with a woman he loved.
“I’ll deal the next round.” Addison jumped seats to get closer to the action, but Hunter let out a growl.
“Get back here. Actually, Fletch, move!” Hunter cried.
“My house,” Fletcher replied.
