Lauren’s jaw dropped, and her heart raced. She blinked and shook her head, wondering if she had heard him wrong.
The elevator opened, its intruding light pulling her eyes away from Logan. Her brain screamed at her to go inside it, but the rest of her begged her to stay.
“Let’s talk about it over a drink,” he said, pulling open one of the doors. “Will you join me?” He extended an arm outward while holding the door open.
Lauren’s eyes moved between him and the inside of his office.
It was a dangerous invitation.
Nevertheless, she found herself nodding and stepping away from the closing doors of the elevator. When she got to him, she paused, and he smiled at her. It was a genuine smile, so she crossed the threshold into his office. He closed the door behind him as he followed her in.
Logan asked if she liked whiskey, and she said yes, wondering where he kept it in this sparse space.
The room, though large, contained only a desk, three chairs, and a leather couch. Two walls were windows, and even from a few feet away, the view made her dizzy. The other two walls and the ceiling were white, while the furniture and floor were black.
The only pops of color came from the office’s few paintings, one of which Logan pulled on, revealing a mirrored bar with backlighting. He poured and handed her a glass, then sat on the edge of his desk, his presence filling the air around her, making it thick with his scent.
Lauren sat on the leather couch, fearing her knees would buckle again. Now that he’d broached the topic of sex, she couldn’t get the idea out of her mind. Her body demanded it, and she crossed her legs to stop the throbbing between them.
He sipped his whiskey, staring at her over the rim. The ring on his second finger clinked against the glass, and it was the only thing that filled the silence. The tension between them grew with each clink.
Lauren waited for him to begin talking about it, but he didn’t, just sat there staring, so she began. “Why?” she asked.
“I think we’d have fun,” he said. “I think we’d be good together.”
She narrowed her eyes, taking a sip of her drink. “And it has nothing to do with today being Valentine’s Day?” She raised her brows. “Nothing to do with you not being able to score with your date because I interrupted your evening so now you want to score with me?”
Emotion danced across his face, but skilled businessman that he was, he reset it before she could place it. He cleared his throat. “No, it has nothing to do with either of those things.”
Lauren hated to ask this next question, but she had to. “And it has nothing to do with who my father is or what he does or how he can help you make more money?”
He couldn’t hide the emotion this time. His head jerked back, and his brow furrowed, but the look of hurt on his face quickly turned into something else. Understanding, perhaps. He gave her a sad smile. “I’d never do that to you, Lauren. I’d never do that to anyone.”
She nodded, knowing in her deepest parts he wasn’t lying, and took a sip.
“Besides,” he said, perking up on the edge of the desk and smiling wider, “Valentine’s Day is pointless. If you feel something for someone, you should tell them or show them no matter what the day is.”
Lauren raised a brow, chuckling. “So that’s what you’re doing? Telling me how you feel?”
He gave her a mischievous smirk. “I’d rather show you.”
Images of exactly what he would show her infiltrated and flooded her mind, shooting bolts of electricity down her body. It made her hot, flushed, and unable to think straight, but she forced her mind to work.
A relationship was out of the question—good or bad ending, she’d be kissing her career goodbye. So what harm could one night do? They’d fuck, they’d orgasm, and they’d move on.
“It’s just sex?” she asked and set her glass on the floor.
He nodded, setting his glass down and standing. Catching the conflicted emotions on her face, he said, “What are you worried about?”
Lauren laughed, leaning back on the couch and dropping her arms in her lap. “What am I not worried about?” Using her fingers to count, she said, “My career, people finding out, my dad, Shana—you’re her boss, and she’d be pissed—and my own emotions.”
His gaze was soft, like his smile, as he stepped toward her. “I would never interfere with your career, other people don’t have to know, and Shana’s job is secure. She’s the best assistant I’ve ever had. But your emotions?” He stopped in front of her, tilting his head.
“I just,” she said, sighing. “I’m a woman who sleeps with someone because I have a genuine connection with them.”
He extended a hand down to her, and its massive size drew her gaze.
From her seated position on the couch, it was easy for her eyes to glance at his crotch beyond his hand, which they did, as she wondered what else was massive, but she looked away when her cheeks flushed. She grabbed his hand and stood, rising only to his chest.
He was so close—tall, broad, and suffocating her with his presence again. He leaned his head down, his fingers dancing over her shoulders and upper arms as he moved his lips to her ear. “I don’t know about you,” he whispered, “but I feel a connection between us.”
She shuddered, her eyes fluttering shut as her core tightened. There was a connection; she felt it too. After reminding herself to breathe, she swallowed hard. “So it’s just sex?”
“Mm-hmm.” His fingers danced against her neck, pushing her hair back and sending chills down her spine.
“And no one will find out?” She reached out and put her hands on his waist.
He cupped the back of her neck with his other hand, his thumb stroking the line of her jaw. Pressing his lips to her exposed neck, he said, “Uh-uh,” between kisses.
Lauren’s knees weakened, and she gripped Logan’s belt. “And Shana won’t be affected at all?” she asked, trying not to fall to putty as his hands moved down her sides.
“Uh-uh.” His kisses rose up her neck, and he nibbled on her earlobe.
Her lips parted, and she let out a breath at the instant burn that started inside her. “Even if it is just one night of quick fucking?”
His hands, which had just started to move down her back, stopped just above her ass. Logan pulled away from her so fast she would have fallen if he hadn’t still been holding her.
She blinked and looked up at him, worried she had said the wrong thing, but the smile he wore was playful, devilish.
“Who said anything about quick?” He squeezed her, pulling her against him.
Her arms rested against his torso, and his body was solid under his suit. Running her hands up his chest, she tingled with excitement that she’d get to see it soon. And when he ground his pelvis against her, her core tightened again when she felt his manhood.
She’d get to see that soon too.
“I’ll give you one hell of a night, Little Landon,” Logan said, “but it won’t be quick. And later, when you’re sore and spent and wanting more, I’ll make you beg for it.”
Then he pulled her in to seal that promise with the best kiss she’d ever had.
