getting off. “His room is 678, go right. Very end of the hall.” I take the card from him and he adjusts his jacket before stating in a more business like rather than compassionate voice, “Think about it.”
I watch the door shut and his face disappear.
Did that really just fucking happen? Did he just tell me to move here? That he would move us here? I mean…I can’t. I have a life back home. And friends. And family. And…and I miss Logan enough to consider it. It would be a clean break from Dean’s past. We wouldn’t have to be away from him so long. The baby…God the baby. One issue at a time, right? Let’s start with that.
Following the instructions to get to Logan’s room, I let the butterflies fill my stomach.
Do me a favor. Don’t let me have sex with him right away. I know that sounds crazy, but as horny as I am and the way I’m on edge about everything, I am tempted to pull a Logan move and just fuck away my problems. Oh God. Did I just say that?
I swipe the key card and the door unlocks. The second I step foot inside I feel those butterflies die, and an unmistakable rage skyrockets into my throat. Slamming the door behind me I snap, “Who the fuck are you?”
The blonde, who’s wearing an unbuttoned white shirt, a red bra exposed, no bottoms but a matching red thong, and a pair of heels tosses me a challenging look. “Who the fuck are you?”
A door, that I’m assuming is the bathroom, opens and Logan walks out with a look of panic on his face, a white towel barely wrapped around his waist.
He’s either washing off the evidence or washing up for round two. Either way, he looks damn good all wet in that towel. No. Wait! Cheating! Cheating bastard!
“Maxx?” his voice breathlessly says.
“Well at least you remember my name in the presence of your home wrecker.”
“What?” he sounds baffled and looks at little miss tramp stamp and sighs, “It’s not what it looks like.”
Annoyed I croak, “Really? You’re in a fucking towel and she looks like she’s waiting to be fucked. What should I assume was about to happen here? A game of checkers? Duck, Duck Goose?”
Don’t judge my choice of games right now.
“You shouldn’t fucking assume anything!” he yells back. “That’s what threw a fucking wrench in our relationship the first time!” Taken back by his tone, I move my body slightly away from the door.
He has a point. But his point seems invalid when there’s a girl barely dressed in front of my own eyes. Ugh. And her push up bra needs more push, less pad.
“LC, get dressed and the get the hell out,” Logan snaps leaning against the doorframe.
She doesn’t say anything as she pulls up her skirt and buttons her top. Once she looks safe to exit the room she tilts her head at me. “For the record, nothing happened between us. Nothing has ever happened between us. I’ve been offering myself since he got here, and he hasn’t taken the bait once. Now I know you must be why.”
I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.
LC stomps her body out of the room shutting the door loudly behind her. My head turns to face Logan who looks desperate for me to believe what she said. The pained expression on his face weakens me almost immediately.
“Maximus…”
“Don’t Maximus me,” my voice is shaky, there are tears on the horizon.
Fucking hormones.
“I wanna believe what she said, Logan—”
“Then do.”
“But—”
“No fucking buts, Maxx.” his voice snaps. “I didn’t do anything wrong here. LC is my personal assistant—”
“And what else does Malibu Barbie assist you with— in and outside of the toy store?”
Anger creeps into his eyes and he glares. “I wasn’t about to fuck her. I have never fucked her. I have no desire to fuck her, Maxx. When the hell are you gonna have a little fucking faith in me?!”
“When I can walk into a fucking room to tell you I’m pregnant and not be worried that I’m gonna find a Stripper Barbie
I watch the door shut and his face disappear.
Did that really just fucking happen? Did he just tell me to move here? That he would move us here? I mean…I can’t. I have a life back home. And friends. And family. And…and I miss Logan enough to consider it. It would be a clean break from Dean’s past. We wouldn’t have to be away from him so long. The baby…God the baby. One issue at a time, right? Let’s start with that.
Following the instructions to get to Logan’s room, I let the butterflies fill my stomach.
Do me a favor. Don’t let me have sex with him right away. I know that sounds crazy, but as horny as I am and the way I’m on edge about everything, I am tempted to pull a Logan move and just fuck away my problems. Oh God. Did I just say that?
I swipe the key card and the door unlocks. The second I step foot inside I feel those butterflies die, and an unmistakable rage skyrockets into my throat. Slamming the door behind me I snap, “Who the fuck are you?”
The blonde, who’s wearing an unbuttoned white shirt, a red bra exposed, no bottoms but a matching red thong, and a pair of heels tosses me a challenging look. “Who the fuck are you?”
A door, that I’m assuming is the bathroom, opens and Logan walks out with a look of panic on his face, a white towel barely wrapped around his waist.
He’s either washing off the evidence or washing up for round two. Either way, he looks damn good all wet in that towel. No. Wait! Cheating! Cheating bastard!
“Maxx?” his voice breathlessly says.
“Well at least you remember my name in the presence of your home wrecker.”
“What?” he sounds baffled and looks at little miss tramp stamp and sighs, “It’s not what it looks like.”
Annoyed I croak, “Really? You’re in a fucking towel and she looks like she’s waiting to be fucked. What should I assume was about to happen here? A game of checkers? Duck, Duck Goose?”
Don’t judge my choice of games right now.
“You shouldn’t fucking assume anything!” he yells back. “That’s what threw a fucking wrench in our relationship the first time!” Taken back by his tone, I move my body slightly away from the door.
He has a point. But his point seems invalid when there’s a girl barely dressed in front of my own eyes. Ugh. And her push up bra needs more push, less pad.
“LC, get dressed and the get the hell out,” Logan snaps leaning against the doorframe.
She doesn’t say anything as she pulls up her skirt and buttons her top. Once she looks safe to exit the room she tilts her head at me. “For the record, nothing happened between us. Nothing has ever happened between us. I’ve been offering myself since he got here, and he hasn’t taken the bait once. Now I know you must be why.”
I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.
LC stomps her body out of the room shutting the door loudly behind her. My head turns to face Logan who looks desperate for me to believe what she said. The pained expression on his face weakens me almost immediately.
“Maximus…”
“Don’t Maximus me,” my voice is shaky, there are tears on the horizon.
Fucking hormones.
“I wanna believe what she said, Logan—”
“Then do.”
“But—”
“No fucking buts, Maxx.” his voice snaps. “I didn’t do anything wrong here. LC is my personal assistant—”
“And what else does Malibu Barbie assist you with— in and outside of the toy store?”
Anger creeps into his eyes and he glares. “I wasn’t about to fuck her. I have never fucked her. I have no desire to fuck her, Maxx. When the hell are you gonna have a little fucking faith in me?!”
“When I can walk into a fucking room to tell you I’m pregnant and not be worried that I’m gonna find a Stripper Barbie
Similar Books
