“Thanks for helping me find what I needed to know about my worst nightmare,” I say sarcastically to my laptop, close it, shift to place it in my bag and secure it around my shoulder in case the storm hits and I need to make a run for home.
I slouch in my chair, stretch my legs on the wooden one across from me and contemplate whether I should call Logan or not. The beast of a man has left me with no choice.
“Allow me to help you out with the information. He’s an asshole like you said. Owes someone an apology as well as an explanation, rarely takes a woman on a date and has taken the most beautiful woman he has ever seen for granted.”
Part of me stiffens at the gruffness in those words whispered by Logan in my ear, while another part wants to look him up just to see what I’d find.
The chair my feet were propped up on slides out, my feet fall to the ground, and Logan slips into the chair, pulling himself close enough for him to rest his hand on my thigh. A tremble moves through me.
“What are you doing here, and what makes you think I was looking you up? Are you afraid of what I’ll see? Photos of you with women? Perhaps having dinner with bad people like yourself?” My voice is barely a whisper; it’s also croaky and thick with quick arousal.
Logan looks incredible, and I’m suddenly shifting in my seat. The flexing of his biceps swallows my focus under the tightness of his shirt. He’s far too sexy at the moment for me to be angry. I drink him in, which is a mistake, his looks only making me thirsty. Hunger—this untamed lust that smoldered since the moment I laid eyes on him ignites through me like a flame, winding my stomach and throbbing between my legs — increasing my fears and supplying a needy desire.
A typical white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar outlines his muscular frame. His dark hair swept away from his face. Aviator glasses are concealing his eyes, and there are frown lines across his forehead as well as one tipping down those full lips of his. And here I sit in cut-off jean shorts with a giant rip below the pocket, a man’s wife-beater shirt, and barefoot.
Opposites. They do attract.
He smells like all man, with a hint of mischief and a whole lot of experience. A bait that will snag you in and drive your imagination wild.
I know firsthand just how good he is, and it scares me to death that I want more. Logan is too enticing for a woman like me who knows she’s way out of her league with a man like him. But I want to be tempted, and for some reason, I don’t understand, just being in Logan’s space makes me feel the safest I’ve felt in years.
I want to crawl onto his lap and let him wrap those big arms around me and hold me close with his strong hands. It’s a puzzle with many missing pieces. A mind-bending riddle that I’d love to solve.
But I won’t.
Inexperienced, I am. Naïve? Not anymore. Plus, there’s something larger than this attraction that any living creature with a pulse could feel it.
“You’ll find nothing on me. I pay people to keep my life private. Do I have dangerous friends? You bet your sweet little ass I do. I came by because I had to see you. The way we left things wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry.”
For crying out loud, the man is hard to read. One minute he’s full of pure raw seduction, the next he’s spilling out words that should offend, and now he’s snuck up on me with compassion and concern.
“I’m sorry too; I was caught off guard. I don’t want to talk about Shadow here.”
“You don’t owe me an apology, Ellie. I should have told you from the start. I don’t want to talk about Shadow here, either. I’d prefer not to talk about him at all.”
“I do owe you one. I should have asked your name. I shouldn’t have judged you for your way of living. I just…” Logan pulls off his sunglasses, places them on the table in front of him, and moves ever so slowly until our lips are barely an inch apart. I want to move in, erase that inch and kiss him.
His eyes are vibrantly green today — the color of freshly mowed grass, a beacon of hope on the dreariest of days. But they are wary as if all of this is too much for him too.
I don’t trust him to be my hope when I’ve never gone out seeking for it before. I didn’t go looking the night we hooked up, yet I must have felt it because I would have never gone home with him if it wasn’t there. Then I picked up on it at his house, and I want to reach out and grab it now.
Logan Mitchell can’t be trusted with the one thing I want someone to have. My heart, and that right there sweeps hope away with the sudden gust of warm wind.
Book 1: Unravel
I’m Logan Mitchell, and I hold many secrets in my greedy hands.
They bow at my feet. Do what I ask and come back for more.
But Ellie Wynn, I don’t want her bowing, I want her to kneel.
She thought our time together was one night, a twist of fate.
How wrong she was.
Ellie has been mine since the day I saw her.
Little does she know, it wasn’t that night. It was years ago.
Well before I even understood she was mine.
One taste, one touch, one kiss, and it wasn’t enough.
Not for me.
I’m prepared to fight dirty, and I plan to succeed.