Page 44 of Logan
“So now you’re complainin’ about too much sex?”
I roll my eyes, secretly doing cartwheels that he doesn't want me to leave. “No, I’m saying you give off mixed messages.”
“Look, I didn’t wanna come on too strong. You made it pretty clear about that whole gettin’ involved thing the first time. You instigated it, remember?”
“And I regret nothing,” I say, not feeling one bit ashamed of myself.
“Snobby princess.”
My eyes widen as I turn and shoot him a look, then I shift, moving to the other side of the bath so I can drink him in. “Hustle.”
He sits up and my eyes dart down to his chest, covered in ink. “Call me that when I’m inside you and you’ll really see me hustle.”
“Ooh, sounds like a promise..”
He leans over and nips my chin, his eyes darting to my lips. I’m reminded yet again about the no-kissing thing. I really don’t get that whole notion. As if sex isn’t intimate enough. “That smart mouth is what got you into trouble the first time.”
“And I affirm; I regret nothing.”
His lips twitch and I know he’s fighting a smile. We’re well suited in a lot of ways. We both have our careers and live our lives how we like it. We don’t like complications, nor do we engage in drama. And we both agree on being tied down. Soreally, this is the most perfect scenario either of us could come up with.
“So, we’re an exclusive non-thing?” he echoes my earlier words.
“That’s less complicated than putting labels on ourselves.”
“That idiot must’ve really done a number on you. Is that why you shy away from relationships?”
“Like I said before. Me and my ex didn’t gel, and I let it go on for longer than it should have. You and I have a connection, whether we like it or not, it’s there. That’s how I know this is different. In a non-commital kind of way.”
“Right. You know you can get lucky any time you like with the local bartender who won’t ask any questions, nor give you grief about why.”
“See, perfect scenario.” I pause. “So, what happens at the club?”
“Meanin’?”
“Well, I mean, what if one of the guys approaches me?” Of course, I’ll tell them to take a hike, but I want to hear what he has to say.
“I don’t like other men lookin’ at you.”
I’m stunned by his words. So stunned, it seems to take me a second to gather myself. “Why’s that?” I force the words out.
“When you’re sleepin’ with me, you’re with me.”
“So they can look but can’t touch.” It isn’t a question.
“No, they can’t look.” He pauses. “Has anyone approached you lately?” I’m in two minds to tell him about Rip, but just as I think better of it, he adds, “Any of those fuckin’ prospects?”
“Only Rip,” I admit. “But he’s at least ten years younger than me, and a little wet behind the ears.”
He reaches for me, pulling me into his lap, his arms tighten around me. Ah, so is my dark horse a little possessive?
I’ve never slept with multiple men at once, and don’t intend to, but toying with him is kinda fun.
“Rip?”
“You asked.”
“That little fucker.”
