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It’s already midmorning when I peel my eyelids open. I’m alone in my bed just the way Logan wanted and probably for the best. He was right last night, I was only looking to forget, and while his method of helping me to do that was spectacular, it couldn’t be anything more. There was a lot for both of us to process last night and sex wasn’t going to resolve any of it, long-term.
With a wide yawn, I stretch my arms above my head and my legs lengthen under the covers. I’m still only in my G-string, not having bothered with anything more than stripping off my dress after leaving Logan.
Sleep came easily when I finally climbed between my sheets, and I shouldn’t be surprised. For the first time in more than fourteen years, somebody I care about knows the truth about me. More importantly, he accepts me for it. An immense sense of relief comes from finally being able to share my real history.
Another thought flits through my head. A good night’s sleep is guaranteed following an exhausting double orgasm masterfully delivered by Logan. Just remembering has my pussy weeping for more, and I squeeze my thighs together. Who even knew a double orgasm was a thing? But it’s real and I have the tenderness and his marks on my body to prove it happened.
Logan is a good man; he just needs to lighten up a little. And when he does, he’s everything and more that I’ve looked for in my perfect man. Supportive, thoughtful, caring, and so damn good with his hands and mouth. I’m hoping today things won’t be awkward and maybe we’ll get a chance to sit down and talk again. I’m feeling stronger emotionally and it would be good to have him look again through the messages now he has the big picture.
Sunlight filters into the room through the gaps around the edges of the thick curtains. It looks like a nice New York day outside. Originally, I’d planned to work at the studio, but after yesterday’s cleaning blitz, everything on my list is done, ready for the contractors.
A completely free day stretches out before me and while I’m tempted to curl up in the covers and stay right here, I’m eager to see Logan. Maybe if he’s not got plans, we could do something fun together.
There doesn’t appear to be any sounds of movement from down the hall to indicate he’s up, but he’s bound to be given the time. I jump out of bed, shower, and dress quickly. It’s not true that all women take a long time to get ready. Models know how to change outfits faster than any man I’ve ever met.
But as I pick up my phone for the first time today, I notice there’s another message. My heart sinks. Please don’t let it be another threatening text.
A sigh of relief escapes my lips when I see it’s from Logan. But my happiness is short-lived.
Logan: Morning FYI, I’m at the beach house today with Hunter. Don’t go anywhere on your own and call if you need anything.
I throw my cell on the bed in disgust. That man is the grumpiest, most annoyingly controlling person I’ve ever met. He literally had his face buried in my pussy in the early hours of this morning and that is the message he chooses to send. What’s with the FYI? I’m not one of his work colleagues.
I guess any chance of going out and enjoying a sunny day in the city just floated away with his FYI. While I may not like him telling me to not go out alone, I’m not stupid enough to ignore his warning.
Leaving my cell where it is, I stomp out to the kitchen and make myself a comforting hot chocolate. Then hugging it between my hands, I carry it to the sofa. My eyes catch on a piece of red lace just visible under a cushion. That’s where my bra ended up. I don’t need reminders of what we did, but a cheeky part of me thinks I should just leave it there, so he’s reminded.
I had every reason to believe he wanted more last night. An impressively large reason that I would like to get my hands on. If not for his honorable intentions, we would have indulged in some frenzied hot sex. I wouldn’t have woken up alone and been stuck inside on the one free day I have this month.
Why didn’t he ask me to go with him to the beach house? I’m sure whatever they’re doing it wouldn’t have been a problem for me to tag along. It hurts a little that he didn’t think to invite me.
Any thoughts that things between us weren’t going to be awkward, it seems, were just wishful thinking.
***
The next morning, I walk into the living room and stumble to a stop the second I see Logan standing at the window drinking a coffee. He’s in dark jeans and a white fitted T-shirt. My favorite look on him. I didn’t end up seeing him at all yesterday. He must have been back late because I didn’t even hear him come in.
I clear my dry throat. “Is it casual Monday at work today?” I ask, hoping a lame joke will ease some of the tension I can see in his shoulders.
He turns and I take him in. Logan looks exhausted. Frown lines stretch across his forehead and three days of growth mask his strong jawline. There’s no chance of seeing his dimple today. He runs his hand roughly through his already messy hair.
“I’m not working today,” he tells me and even his voice sounds tired. He rubs his eyes from under the edge of his glasses while I walk toward him. I can’t believe Logan the workaholic has decided to not go into the office today. Although one look at him and it probably makes sense.
I stop in front of him, smiling tentatively. “Was Hunter sitting down when you told him?”
“I’m not all work and no play, Allie,” he grumbles, and the wrinkles in his forehead deepen. It’s not fair that even when he’s wrecked he still looks irresistibly hot. I wonder if his current state has anything to do with me.
I take another step closer, invading his personal space, then place my hand on his chest. Buff molded muscles tense beneath my fingertips.
“I’m well aware.” I inhale deeply, then continue, “Mmm … that coffee smells good.” What I really want to say is he smells delicious.
“So why the day off?” I ask, hoping it’s to be with me when I meet his friend Todd. I’m feeling more ready to tell my story, but still, it would be nice to have him beside me.
He turns his head to look out the window briefly. “I thought I’d work from home today … you know, with Todd coming.” Huh! I was right, he still wants to help me. I know he wouldn’t admit it outright but that’s why he’s dressed casually and pretending that this is all part of his routine.
“Thank you.”
He turns back to look down at me. Our eyes trap each other in place, his deep brown and my lighter green not blinking. I break the connection first and turn to walk away. His lightning-fast reflexes snag my arm, dragging me back to him. His hold is gentle but firm.
