Run the Risk. Lori Foster
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and pulled her forward into the hall and then into his apartment. “I only need a few minutes. What’d you have planned for dinner? I’m starving.”
Not the most subtle hint, but maybe she’d be female enough to pick up on it and take pity on him.
“I was going to order a pizza.” She looked around his apartment with interest but jumped when he closed the door. Apprehension welled up. “I should go.”
“I’d rather you stay.” He dropped down to his couch but didn’t lean back into the cushions, not with his shirt damp through and through. He began unlacing his work boots. “I’d put off the shower, but I’m a sweaty mess. It’s bad enough that it’s in the nineties, but add in the humidity, and it was miserable today.”
“Yes.”
At that faint agreement, he looked at her, found her staring at his shoulders, and smiled. “I probably smell like a locker room.”
Her face again warmed, and she breathed, “No.”
Logan reveled in her response. Had he reduced her to one word replies? Just to keep her tongue-tied, he stood and pulled off his shirt.
Her jaw loosened, and she drew in a shuddering breath.
Damn, could a woman be more enticing? More in need of a long hard ride? She damn near fainted when he reached past her to set his boots on the floor inside the door.
Close to her, crowding her a little, he emptied his pockets on the table, setting out his wallet, cell phone and some change. “Stay put, okay? I’ll be right back.”
She stared at his throat.
Remember what you’re doing. Giving her a verbal nudge, Logan whispered, “Sue?”
Her gaze jumped up to his.
“Tell me you’ll be here when I get out of the shower.”
“Yes.” She nodded slowly. “I’ll be here.”
He couldn’t resist touching her, but because he was a mess, he used only his baby finger to stroke her warm, downy cheek. Then, before he lost it, he said, “Make yourself at home,” and turned to head into the bathroom.
He hoped she would use the time alone to snoop a little; it was why he’d left his wallet and second cell phone sitting right there. Anything she found would only reinforce his cover.
Scrubbing head to toe, he removed the grime even as the cool water helped to temper his explosive lust.
Not that he should have been exploding with lust. It made no sense. This was a job, just like any other. His association with her was a means to an end, and Pepper Yates, aka Sue Meeks, was as far from a femme fatale as a woman could get.
But knowing she waited in the other room left him half hard, his guts knotted and his balls tight.
Shit.
In a hurry to get back to her, he turned off the shower and dried. Now that he’d gotten her into his place, he didn’t want her to turn tail and run before he could take advantage of the situation and advance his goal.
But as he walked back in, snapping his jeans along the way, he found her still at the door, his belongings untouched, her expression a little lost. It appeared she hadn’t moved an inch. Hell, it almost looked as if she held her breath.
New sensations tensed his muscles. He didn’t know for sure what he felt, but he felt it in spades, unsettling and blistering hot.
Without saying a word, their gazes locked, he approached her. For several seconds they stood there, staring at each other while the charge between them arced and crackled, growing stronger with each beat of his heart.
Softly, he said, “You look ready to bolt.”
She rolled in her lips and shook her head.
Because he couldn’t not touch her, Logan put a hand to the top of her head. Her hair was silky soft, warm. He stroked back to her nape, and then down the length of that long ponytail, stopping with his hand open on the small of her back. “Everything okay?”
“Yes.” Then, as he nudged her closer, she blurted, “I hadn’t heard from you…”
His strategy had obviously worked—so then why did he feel like such a prick? “After working on the construction site, I came home each day pretty beat.”
“I didn’t mean… You don’t owe me anything.”
Her vulnerability chewed on his conscience. “No?”
Without his urging, she drew closer, her attention on his mouth. “I just… You had said…so I thought…” She clamped her mouth closed and squeezed her eyes shut. “Never mind.”
“I gave you my number,” he reminded her.
Her tone now more strident, she shot right back, “I told you I wouldn’t call.”
So she had.
He probably should’ve kissed her already to avoid this little conflict.
Better late than never.
But he didn’t take her mouth. Instead, he lowered his head and brushed a kiss over her heated cheek, down to her firm jaw, and then to the side of her silken neck.
She locked her hands behind her, confounding him.
“You smell good, Sue.” He nuzzled her ear, filling his lungs with her scent. “Like sunshine.”
“I was outside.” Breathless, she added, “The building has termites.”
“Yeah?” He didn’t give a damn. His hand on her back contracted; she felt supple, trim, but so soft.
“I had to meet with the exterminator.” She tipped her head to make it easier for him to get to her throat. “We were outside for over an hour.”
This dump had an exterminator? Okay, so he’d never seen any bugs, it still surprised him. “Thanks for taking care of that.”
“I probably need a shower, too.”
“No.” He opened his mouth on her throat, moved his tongue over her, tasting her skin, licking her, then whispering in her ear, “But you could have showered with me if you’d—”
She left his arms so quickly, it took him a second to figure out what had happened.
She had that deer caught in the headlights look about her.
Time to regroup.
Pretending he hadn’t panicked her, Logan said, “You mentioned ordering pizza.” He took a step back, giving her some space so she could breathe easier. “How about I pay, and we can eat here?”
Indecision kept her on the edge of retreat. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“You’d be doing me a favor.” When she hesitated, he handed her his phone. “Go ahead and order it. I’ll get us something to drink in the meantime.”
He walked away, hoping she’d settle down and stay with him—but prepared to go after her if she didn’t.
Then he heard her soft voice ordering the pizza, loaded, just as he liked it.
He got out glasses. “You want a beer or a Coke?”
She looked at his beer with longing, but said, “A Coke, please.”
Another mystery. If she wanted a beer, why not say so? Did she think it unladylike—or did she worry that alcohol, even a simple beer, would lower her resistance, maybe allow her to divulge secrets better kept concealed?
Logan disliked her brother more by the minute. “Over ice?”
She nodded.
“How long for the pizza? I’m starved.”
“Fifteen minutes