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The admission sends a burst of satisfaction coursing through my veins.
"Logan, do you remember the other day at the office when you asked if I like you or not?" She pauses, her eyes darting away to look at the city lights below us. Then she turns back to me. "Well, I do like you, Logan... I like you a lot." She swallows hard, her hand gripping mine tighter. "And that scares me."
"Bailey, it's okay to be scared. Hell, I'm terrified." I chuckle, a low and throaty sound. "But I'm also excited... and, I won't deny it, I'm falling for you too."
Unable to resist, I cup her face with my free hand, letting my thumb trace the delicate curve of her cheek. "Why don't we just... see where this goes? No pressure, no expectations." I give her a small smile. "Just two people, scared out of their minds, seeing where things go. How does that sound?"
Her eyes are wide, but there's a spark in them. "Alright, Logan," she says, her voice firm yet soft. "Let's see where this goes."
I raise my glass to hers. "Well, Bailey," I say, the smirk clear in my voice. "Let's see where this goes. My penthouse, for instance?"
"Logan!" She is sassy but doesn't refuse.
I raise an eyebrow, the invitation pending.
"Alright, fine."
"Great."
I give her a teasing grin, standing and offering my hand. She takes it, and together we leave the flickering lights of the rooftop behind. We step into the elevator and make our way to the limo. Arriving at my penthouse, Bailey looks over at me as we walk into the place. Her eyes shine with curiosity and something else, something wild.
I find myself moving toward her instinctively.
I can't wait to get my hands on her.
19
BAILEY
As he walks toward the bar, I watch him. His movement is both athletic and regal, like a prowling lion in its prime. His back is broad and defined, shoulders strong. And his lower back tapers down to a tight ass that I can't help but notice. Any woman would notice. The way his black jeans hug his legs, accentuating his muscular thighs. Ugh. I can't help but think of how those thighs would feel, solid and warm against my palms.
He turns around with a glass in his hand, and that's when I really lose it.
His chiseled jaw, the curve of his lips, and those smoldering eyes that seem to see right through me. His cheekbones are sharp, dusted with a little stubble that makes him look even more manly. I imagine what it'd feel like, the scratch of his stubble against my skin. The thought sends a wave of heat up my legs.
He hands me a glass, his fingers brushing against mine, and I nearly drop it.
Cool it, Bailey.
I'm shaken by how much I want him, how drawn I am to him. It's not just physical. There's something about Logan, something beyond the cocky smiles and flirtatious teasing. The way he listens when I talk, how his gaze never strays, the genuine interest in his eyes. It's alluring, and I find myself falling, falling fast.
I take a sip of the whiskey, my eyes never leaving his.
Setting down my glass, our eyes remain locked. The intensity of his stare almost scares me sometimes. But it's the good kind of scared. The kind that wonders how quickly his muscular arms can tear off my dress.
I can barely breathe as he moves closer, the magnetic pull between us unstoppable. He reaches out, his hands finding my waist, and in one swift motion, he lifts me up, placing me on the kitchen island behind me.
His body moves between my parted legs, his presence so potent, my legs start to shake. His hands move to either side of me, possessively caging me in.
"Comfortable?" Logan asks. His eyes, dark and intense, hold mine captive.
"I'm fine, thank you."
"Good... because we're just getting started." He leans in, his breath all over my neck.
"Do you always move this fast, Logan?"
"Only when something's worth chasing." His lips are inches from mine. "And trust me, you're worth chasing."
