Friday night. My goal: get Bobby back.
It wasn’t going to be easy. Kitty had managed to get her hooks into him solidly for only having known him for so short a time period. But Logan was going to drive Bobby into a jealous frenzy and I had home court advantage. Jubilee’s was my turf. Hell, Kitty had never even had a beer. And I’d have Logan to make me look desirable.
“Not to mention I look damn good,” I said to my reflection. I opted for jeans tonight because I thought a skirt would be out of place. Plus my favorite pair of Diesel’s fit like perfection and made my butt look grabbable. My spaghetti-strap camisole could have doubled for silky lingerie and left my belly bare. I decide to go braless with it, and when I bent over—well, suffice it to say one could get a peek at my charms if one wanted to.
I was going to make sure Logan wanted to catch glimpses, and that he actually did catch them.
I winced. Bobby. I meant Bobby.
Though the thought of Logan sliding the strap off my shoulder with his callused hands got my juices flowing, if you know what I mean.
“Enough.” I shook my head and took a deep breath to center myself. I couldn’t be distracted with Logan; I had more important matters at hand.
I left my hair down, loose and flowing past my shoulders, lined my eyes to make them stand out, and swiped some gloss on my lips. Sticking my driver’s license, a credit card, and some cash in my pocket, I went to see if Jean was ready. “Red!”
“Stop calling me that.”
It came from the office. Because I didn’t need the aggravation of seeing how she’d messed with the room, I sat down in the living room to wait. Tapping my fingers on the armrest, I called upon every ounce of patience in my body. Five seconds later I yelled again. “Jean! Come on, we have to go.”
“Okay,” She said. At least, that’s what I think she said--- her voice was so muffled it could have been anything, I supposed.
She tentatively emerged from the room, a frown wrinkling her delicate forehead. “Am I dressed appropriately?”
I rolled my eyes. She was always worried about being proper, always had been. I was about to give her a flippant answer--- what did it matter what you wore to a pub, even a nice one like Jubilee’s?--, but then I noticed what she was wearing: wool pants, flats, and a long-sleeved blouse that she’d buttoned all the way up to her chin. As if the uptight librarian outfit wasn’t bad enough, her hair was twisted so tight her eyes looked almond-shaped and there wasn’t a hint of color on her face.
But I wanted to get to Jubilee’s so I could have a drink to calm my nerves before anyone arrived. And Warren wasn’t going to mind Jean’s nun-like appearance; knowing him, he’d be turned on by it. So I said, “You’re fine. Let’s go.”
I was at the top of stairs going down to the front door before I noticed she wasn’t behind me. I turned around with a frown. “What?”
She looked down at her clothes. “You look more casual than I do.”
“I always look more casual than you do.”
“But you look---“ her mouth worked for several seconds before she could mutter her thoughts. “—sexy.”
I grinned. If my sister thought I was sexy, Logan was going to die.
I mentally smacked my forehead. Bobby. Bobby was going to die.
“I don’t look sexy.” She worriedly smoothed the front of her silk shirt.
Sigh. A sister’s job is never done. “You look fine. Sexiness is a state of mind.”
Jean frowned at me like she couldn’t process that tidbit of information.
I sighed again and waved her over. “Come on. Would I steer you wrong?”
I immediately knew I’d said the wrong thing. I didn’t need to see the suspicion crop up in her eyes.
When in doubt, appeal to her sense of propriety. “Look. You don’t want to keep Warren waiting, do you?” I asked, fully aware Warren would probably arrive late.
“All right,” She said hesitantly. She slung her hefty purse over her shoulder and reluctantly shuffled toward me.
I opened my mouth to tell her she needed only some money and her ID, but I decided to avoid that debate. I doubted she’d do anything where she’d be hindered by her bag. Like dancing. Jean, dance? Ha!
We walked down together and I locked the door under her eagle eye. I noticed Mystique was back by the light illuminating the window in her room.
“Your tenant is so quiet,” Jean whispered.
I shrugged and held out my keys. “Will you put these in your purse?”
She gave me a look I didn’t bother to decipher, but did as I asked. I skipped down the steps and headed left at the corner.
My sister caught up quickly with her long legs. “Where are you going? Your car is the other direction.”
“To catch a cab.” I wasn’t planning on drinking much but better to be prepared. Maybe Logan could bring me home.
Shit--- I meant Bobby. Bobby could bring me home.
I walked briskly the couple of blocks to NW 23rd. The neighborhood had received a facelift some years ago, and now it was a yuppie paradise of trendy little shops and coffeehouses. Great street for catching cabs.
Jean strode beside me, bumping me with her luggage of a purse. “Why are we taking a cab? Is something wrong with your car?”
Was she for real? Oh, yeah--- she never went out. “In case we drink.” I gave her a severe look. “It’s not good to drink and drive.”
She glanced at me in exasperation before looking down again to watch her step. “Do you drink a lot?”
For a moment, I was tempted to tell her my plans. She was my sister and it seemed like the kind of thing to share. But then I woke out of that delirium. This was Jean, not some cool older sister who’d help me plot. If I told her, she’d chastise me ceaselessly. “Nope. I usually don’t drink much. I don’t like to take chances, though.”
She nodded solemnly and managed to stay quiet for all of two seconds before she asked, “What does your tenant do?”
I stood on the corner and waved at a passing taxi, who didn’t bother to slow down. “She’s a hooker.”
“Excuse me?”
My lips quirked of their own violation. “She’s a hooker. High-priced though. Rent isn’t cheap.”
Jean looked like a guppy, the way her mouth was opening and closing. It was hard not busting out in laughter. Somehow I resisted. But I couldn’t help adding, “Don’t worry. She makes house calls. She never brings her johns home.”
“Marie! I can’t believe you’d rent out space in your house to a---a---“
I frowned and signaled another cab. “Hooker’s not a dirty word.”
She grabbed my arm and jerked me to face her. “Do Mom and Dad know?”
The taxi that screeched to a stop next to us saved me from having to reply. “Oh, look. Our ride.” I broke her grip by rotating my arm in a counterclockwise circle, opened the door, and hopped in. Jean climbed in as I told our driver where we were going.
My sister managed to stay silent for a few seconds before she leaned toward the driver and said, “Wouldn’t it be more expedient to take Everett?”
The driver and I exchanged looks in the rearview mirror. “Jeanie, I think he knows where he’s going.”
“My name is Jean, and if he took Everett instead, he’d avoid downtown traffic, thereby arriving sooner.”
Save me from my anal sister.
“There are so many stops on this side. I’m sure it’s simply to delay our ride and charge us more.”
“Jean, let the man drive.” I yanked her back and gave the driver an apologetic look. He just shrugged as if to say it was his fate to be questioned on his routes.
We got to Jubilee’s pretty quickly for a Friday night. I paid our cabbie, including a big tip—he deserved combat pay for dealing with Jean—and led her to the door.
“Hey, pretty lady.” The bouncer checking IDs smiled at me.
I smiled back. I didn’t know his name but I went often enough that I recognized him. “How’s it hanging, sugar?”
“Long and low,” he grinned. “And I’m primed for action.”
I grinned back and handed him my driver’s license. He gave it the requisite stare before returning it, stamped my wrist, and gestured toward the door. “Don’t get into too much trouble tonight.”
I laughed. “What fun would that be?” Then I turned to wait for Jean, who was watching the interchange with wide eyes. She startled when she realized the bouncer and I were both gazing at her and clumsily dug in her purse for her license.
“She with you?” The door guy asked as he gave Jean one of those slow head-to-toe-and-back perusals guy were so good at. Only I had the feeling it wasn’t because he thought she was hot.
I felt a string of protectiveness in my gut. Unusual and I couldn’t explain it, so I ignored the feeling. Maybe I ate some bad food. But I did frown at the bouncer and say, “She’s my sister.”
Which caused him to bestow one of those slow all-over looks on me before he gave Jean another one. He shook his head and stamped her wrist without really looking at her license. “Enjoy yourselves, ladies.”
I frowned at him and dragged Jean through the door. “Jerk.”
“I thought you were friends.”
I glanced at her. “What makes you say that?”
“The way you talked to him.” She hiked her purse more securely on her shoulder as she blinked to adjust to the dim lighting.
“Nope. I don’t make it a habit of being friends with assholes like that.”
I think she mumbled, “I thought he was a perfectly decent man,” but it was under her breath so I couldn’t be sure.
I looked around to see if anyone from our party was here. No one. Excellent. Dragging Jean to the bar, I leaned across so the bartenders, all male, would notice my cleavage. I may not have the Pamela Anderson package, but what I had I knew how to use.
Sure enough, one came over right away, ignoring all the people waiting before me. “I’d like a Guinness and she wants---“ I didn’t know what Jean wanted. Seemed like I should, but I didn’t think I’d ever seen her drink before. I turned to her and asked, “What would you like?”
She stared wide-eyed at all the liquor bottles glittering like jewels behind the bar. “I don’t know,” she replied in hushed wonder.
I frowned. “What do you like? Beer? Vodka? Gin?”
“I don’t know,” she said again with the beginnings of panic.
She was almost thirty--- she had to have had some kind of drink at some point, right? Why couldn’t she just pick one? But I must have had an out-of-body experience because instead of saying that, I patted her arm and said, “I’ll take care of it.”
The relief on her face was embarrassing. I turned to the bartender so I wouldn’t have to face it. “What kind of mixed drink is your favorite to make?”
“I know just the thing.” His devilish grin should have tipped me off, but I was still unsettled by Jean’s uncertainty. “A Sexual Trance.”
He set my pint and the frou-frou drink in front of me and rattled off an absurd total. Jean’s drink must have contained liquid gold, because Guinness wasn’t that expensive. Not that I cared, really, as long as she loosened up.
Jean accepted her beverage when I handed it to her, holding it up and examining it like an unknown compound in one of her beakers. “What’s in it?”
“Don’t know. He called it a Sexual Trance.”
She pepped right up. “I like that.”
I watched her as she took a tentative sip. Her face lit up like she’d discovered the cure for cancer. “You like it?”
“It’s delicious,” She replied fervently.
I frowned at the way she started chugging it down. “Careful there. Those drinks are strong.”
“Nonsense. This is all fruit juice. I don’t taste any alcohol.” She tipped her head back and downed the rest. Setting the empty glass on the bar, she smiled. “I want another one.”
I was so taken aback by her smile—the first one that didn’t have a trace of the usual tightness in her face—that I didn’t notice she motioned the bartender over.
“Excuse me, could I have another one of these? Uh, a Sexual Trance?” She pushed the glass toward him.
He grinned at her. “You liked it, huh? Killer, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
I rolled my eyes. Did she even know what killer meant?
He set down a fresh drink in front of her. She rummaged in her enormous purse for her wallet. It took her so long, he took care of two other customers before she was ready.
She picked up her drink and tried it. “This one tastes even better.”
The way she was guzzling her drink worried me. I’m sure it was because I’d have to hold her hair back while she purged it all later and not because this behavior was totally unlike her. “Take it easy on this one, okay?”
She ignored me and studied the room. “It’s busy here, isn’t it?”
“It gets busier.” I took her arm and tugged. “Come on. Let’s grab that booth before someone takes it.”
We weaved our way through the tables and claimed the booth. It was in the middle, far enough from the bandstand to offer privacy and close enough to the door so everyone joining us should see us right away.
Jean slid in across from me, her head bobbing to the music playing in the room. She surveyed everything around her in the way she had when she was dissecting and evaluating. I could feel her foot tapping along to the beat of “You’ve Got to Fight for Your Right to Party.”
I was facing the front, so I immediately saw Logan when he stepped in. Even if I hadn’t seen him, I would’ve known he was in the house at the collective sigh from all the women.
I couldn’t blame them. He looked good. Yeah, it was all well and good that I could see his muscles rippling under his tight T-shirt and that his jeans hugged his package lovingly. Yes, I looked. And that his eyes lit up when he saw me. But what really turned me on was the way he stalked toward me so confidently. With single-minded purpose. I bet he approached everything with that kind of concentration.
Yum.
I remembered how he said fight me and felt my nipples harden. I was practically panting by the time he reached our table.
He smiled, “Hey, darlin’.”
I felt overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, like I was the only person in the room with him. I had to clear my throat a couple of times before I could say, “Hi” back.
Jean scooted closer to the edge of the booth. “Who are you? Marie’s boyfriend? I’m her sister Jean.” She held her hand out and toppled over.
Logan caught her by the elbow. “Woah, careful there. You okay?”
“Just fine, thanks,” she smiled unsteadily. “Marie got me a date too, did you know that?”
“She’s pretty generous.” Logan guided her back into the security of the corner of the booth.
“Mostly she’s always been a spoiled brat. Did you know she blew up my favorite Barbie?”
He glanced at me and raised his right eyebrow.
I shrugged. “It melted more than it blew up.”
“She was a brat,” Jean declared. “But she’s okay now. Sometimes. Except for when she throws my coffee in the garbage.”
Hell, Jean, air out all our dirty laundry right in front of the hottest man in the room. I held my hands up helplessly. “She’s not used to drinking.”
Logan’s smile was understanding. “I’m goin’ to get myself a beer. You need another?”
I glanced down at the Guinness I’d barely touched despite my earlier plans. “I’m good.”
“I could use another one of these drinks.” Jean peered down into her glass. “They disappear so fast.”
“No, she couldn’t,” I told Logan quickly.
He grunted an agreement and said he’d be right after flashing me that wolfish smile of his. I watched him walk toward the bar. I swear I’d never been one for men’s asses, but for him I could make an exception.
“He’s almost as yummy as my drink,” Jean said, her eyes following him, too. “But I’m relieved he’s not my date.”
I faced her and frowned. “Why?”
“He’s too overwhelming,” She shuddered. “I wouldn’t know what to do with him.”
I would. My entire body flushed as my imagination took flight. I fanned myself with my hand, hoping it was dark enough to hide my burning cheeks.
“It is rather warm in here, isn’t it?” My sister waved herself, too. Then she unbuttoned her two top buttons. Only she must have still been warm because she undid another button.
“Much better.” She smiled at me and downed the rest of her drink.
I thought about telling her you could see her underwear, but she wore a white chemise on top of her bra so it wasn’t like she was flashing anyone. I figured I’d let her be. Getting her to drink water was going to be hard enough.
“No wonder Mom was raving about your boyfriend.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
She pointed at Logan. “I’d rave about him, too. He’s testosterone personified. Mom probably sees all the potential grandchildren in his loins---“
“Jean!”
“—and Dad sees a guy he can bond with in football season.” She frowned. “The name Bobby doesn’t quite suit him though, does it?”
How was I going to handle her when the real Bobby showed up with his new girlfriend? I couldn’t have her telling our parents Bobby and I split. I looked longingly at Logan. It would have been perfect if I could have taken him to the party but, contrary to what my tipsy sister thought, our parents weren’t going to like him.
Jean pouted when Logan came back with only a pint of beer. “Where’s my Sexual Trance?”
He and I exchanged a look and I slid out of the booth. “I’ll get her a glass of water. Be right back.”
At the bar, I looked back at the table to see Jean talking to Logan with more animation than I’d ever seen, except when she was talking about childhood diseases. Panic and jealously rose in me. I almost ran back to the table, but then I saw that Logan’s body language wasn’t like someone interested, so I calmed down.
Still, I returned as fast as possible. I set a big glass of water in front of Jean and slid in next to Logan. “Everything okay?” I asked him.
He shot me another sexy grin. “Good.”
Jean scowled at the water. “This doesn’t look like a Sexual Trance.”
“It’s H2O.” I thought maybe if I told her the chemical compound she might understand what it was, since plain English wasn’t working.
She pushed it across the table. “I want a Sexual Trance.”
“Don’t we all, but you’re going to drink this.” I slid the glass back at her.
“Make me.” She crossed her arms and glared at me.
I rolled my eyes, “Oh, really mature, Jeannie.”
“Don’t call me Jeannie.”
I looked beseechingly at Logan. He put his arm around me and whispered in my ear, “I can’t really blame her for wantin’ a sexual trance.”
His breath stirred every cell in my body to life. I froze, aware of the exact proximity of his lips to my neck, of the way his fingers toyed with the spaghetti strap of my top, of his thigh pressing against mine.
He was going to kiss me, I just knew it. I lowered my eyelids, ready, willing, and more than able---
Someone cleared his throat at the foot of the booth. Logan and I looked up simultaneously to find Bobby and Kitty holding hands with Warren lurking behind them. Kitty watched us with bubbly curiosity. Bobby gaped as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. Warren frowned at Logan’s hand on my shoulder.
I smiled even as I groaned mentally. “Hey, guys. You all know each other except for Warren.” I pointed to him and everyone looked at him. “He’s Jean’s date.”
“I am?” The confusion on Warren’s face was comical.
“He is?” Jean leaned around Kitty to get a better look at him.
His expression cleared right up when he got a better look at her. “Marie was right. You’re hot.”
I looked at her, with her buttons undone and leaning over him like that, he had an eyeful. And she had a lot to ogle. Frankly, I could support anything that got Warren’s attention off me.
Jean’s face lit up, emphasizing her angelicness. “You think I’m hot?”
“You’re very hot. Can I buy you a drink?”
She jumped out of the booth eagerly. Impressive—she barely stumbled. “I want a Sexual Trance.”
An unholy grin grew across his face. “And I’m the man to give it to you.”
He was plastered to her side as they went to the bar. A match made in heaven.
“Is she going to be okay?” Logan said in my ear.
“Yeah. Warren’s okay.”
“I was more worried about her having another drink.”
“She’s the most responsible person I know. I’m sure she’ll stop after this last drink.” I hoped. I was more focused on him whispering in my ear. Bobby and my objective slipped to the back of my mind. All I wanted to concentrate on was the goose bumps from Logan’s breath on my skin.
The thing was, I didn’t really want him to stop. In fact, I wanted to feel his breath on other parts of my body. But I dragged myself from my prurient thoughts and smiled at Kitty and Bobby. “I’m glad you could make it.”
“I’m so excited to be here,” Kitty gushed as she bounced onto the bench where Jean had been sitting. “I’ve never been to a bar like this before.”
Bobby squeezed her shoulder. “What would you like to drink, sweetie?”
She beamed up at him. “A glass of chardonnay, please.”
Chardonnay? In a pub? I don’t know why I was surprised. Her clothes were just as out of place. She had on another fancy little dress that was more appropriate for an upscale jazz bar.
But Bobby didn’t notice how out of place she was. He only nodded and went to do her bidding.
No big deal. He was already disconcerted by the way Logan was touching me. By the end of the night I was sure Bobby would realize how much he wanted me back.
Logan tugged a lock of my platinum hair. I looked up at him with a frown. He had a half-smile on his face as he said, “Where did you go?”
“Excuse me?”
“Kitty asked you a question.”
“She did?” I looked at Kitty, who watched me with tolerant amusement.
“It’s okay. I can totally understand why Marie’s off in space.” She gave Logan a sidelong look and giggled. “You two are sooo cute together.”
“Um. Thanks.” I just couldn’t bring myself to give her and Bobby the same kind of comment. Even if they did look compatible. Grr.
She leaned across the table. “When did you guys know?”
I frowned. “Know what?”
“Know. You know---know.” She gasped in exasperation at my probably blank look. “Like, I knew Bobby was The One when I saw him across the room at South Park Seafood. I was having lunch with daddy and Bobby came over after dessert to introduce himself to my daddy and ask him if he could take me out. It was so romantic.” She heaved a princess sigh. Then she snapped back to business. “When did you and Logan know you were it for each other?”
I turned to Logan and beseeched him for help.
To his credit, he didn’t smirk. “I knew as soon as she insulted my fighting ability.”
Kitty’s eyes widened. “You didn’t, Marie!”
“No, I didn’t.” I elbowed him in the sternum. “I just said boxing wasn’t fighting.”
She smiled sweetly at the two of us. “You’re just sooo cute! I’m sooo happy you found each other.”
Bobby came back at that moment, so I snuggled into Logan’s side and said, “We are too.”
Bobby frowned at me and slid in next to Kitty. “Here you go, sweetie.” He handed her the glass of white wine.
“Thank you, Pookie.” She pecked his cheek and hugged his arm. “You’re so good to me.”
Gag. I downed some beer to keep myself from vomiting.
Jean returned with Warren in tow. He held a couple of drinks too, including another one of those drinks Jean was hooked on. I scowled at him. He shrugged as if to say, “I couldn’t deny her, could I?” He set the drinks on our table, snagged a couple of chairs, and seated Jean before taking his seat. Very close to her.
She didn’t notice anything amiss. She flashed him a loopy smile and took a swig of her drink. When she set it down on the table, it sloshed over the sides. “This is cozy.”
“Isn’t it?” Kitty gushed. She leaned over Bobby to get at Jean. “You’re Marie’s sister? Oh my god, you’re so beautiful. Are you a model?”
Jean’s brow wrinkled. “A model what?”
I perked up. Maybe alcohol was the way to lower her IQ, to make her less perfect.
“You know. A model,” Kitty explained precisely. “Like photographers take pictures of.”
Jean tapped her lips thoughtfully. “Well, they did take my picture for BioPharm International.”
“I knew it!” Kitty beamed at Bobby. “Didn’t I guess that, Bobby?”
“You sure did, sweetie,” he replied fondly.
I frowned at him. I could see certain naïve sweetness to Kitty that could, maybe, for some people, be attractive, but Bobby hated sugar.
“What a minute,” Jean interjected suddenly. She swayed toward the table so Warren had to dive to save their drinks from being knocked over. “I thought he---“ She pointed to Logan “---was Bobby.”
“Uhm, no.” Wow, was I thirsty. I lifted my beer and hid behind the glass.
“I knew it!” Jean exclaimed, pointing at Logan. “You don’t look like a Bobby. A Bobby seems more uptight, like someone my parents would approve of.”
I grabbed Logan’s chin and pulled his face to mine. “Want to dance, sugar?”
“Let’s go.” He took my hand and led me to the dance floor.
Such as it was. Mostly it was a clear area around the bandstand where people stood during live concerts. Later, it’d be packed by the sheer volume of bodies trying to cram into the bar. For now, though, there was plenty of space for me and Logan.
I started winding myself up to shake some serious booty when Logan spun me into his body. Staring into my eyes, he let go of my hand, put his on my hips, and led me into the salsa. Only one word for it: delicious. He moved me in a way that would have been illegal in some states. It felt so right that I didn’t want to think about it. So instead I focused on how sexy Logan was and how close his lips were to mine. It wouldn’t take very much to reach up and kiss him.
God knows I was dying to. Just one kiss, so I could prove one and for all that he wasn’t the sex-god he appeared to be.
A flash of pink caught my eye. I turned to look and stumbled over my feet when I saw Bobby whirling Kitty to our right.
“You okay, darlin’?” Logan murmured in my ear.
I nodded, even though I was totally blown away. Bobby never danced and here he was, shaking his groove with Kitty. He was no Patrick Swayze, but he looked like he was having fun. I didn’t know whether to applaud Kitty or pout because the one time I went dancing with him he’d just stood to one side, bored, watching me dance.
Loud cheering from the bar area pulled my attention. I looked to check out what was going on, expecting to see people doing shots.
Logan stopped abruptly. “Is that your sister?”
I blinked, positive I was seeing things. It couldn’t be Jean. Jean wouldn’t do a striptease on top of a bar. Her hair wouldn’t fly around her head—it’d be subdued in a tight knot. And she definitely wouldn’t take off her shirt in front of a bunch of cheering strangers and swing it around her head.
My beer must have been spiked. I had to be hallucinating.
Then the woman looked up and gave me a loopy smile. “Marie! Look, I’m dancing. I’m getting down!”
Okay, I wasn’t hallucinating.
“Come on.” I took Logan’s hand and pushed my way to the bar, dragging him behind me. Shoving a couple overzealous boys aside, I wiggled up to the bar. “Jean, what are you doing?”
“Dancing.” She giggled and shook her ass in my face.
Warren wedges his way next to me. “She’s great, Marie,” he said loudly to be heard over the commotion. “Thanks a lot.”
“Yeah.” Not.
“She’s not frigid like you. Were you adopted?”
I glared at him, but he was too busy raptly gazing at Jeans’ bare belly to notice. I felt Logan’s chuckle on my neck, so I turned around to glare at him too.
“Was she a stripper?” Warren did a white man’s bop with his head. “She’s got moves.”
“Jean,” I called, aware of the desperation creeping into my voice. I held my hand out to encourage her off the bar. “Why don’t we go to the dance floor? There’s more room there.”
“I want to dance here.” She whirled her shirt one more time and let go. It landed on my right arm.
“Need some help?” Logan asked from behind me.
“I got it.” I crumpled the blouse and tossed it to him.
“Take it off, baby!” one of the guys at the other end yelled. A cheer went up from everyone watching her.
Jean paused. I could see the cogs turning in her head and I groaned. Before I could do anything, she whipped her chemise over her head and sent it flying. Then she did a shimmy in her bra that would have made J. Lo green with envy.
A whooping cheer went up through the bar, but what caught my eye was the trio of bouncers cutting through the crowd to get to her.
Shit. Try explaining to our parents why their perfect daughter spent the night in jail. Guess who’d get the blame?
I grabbed my sister’s leg. “Come down now.”
“Stop it. I’m sick of dancing all by myself. Tonight I’m going to dance with someone else.”
Great. Now she was quoting Madonna. I tugged. “You can dance with someone else on the dance floor.”
She shook me off, lost her balance, and stumbled off the bar. Fortunately, her fans caught her. unfortunately, they turned the moment into an impromptu mosh pit and passed her overhead.
I tried to catch her as she went by, but the crowd carried her away from me. Logan caught hold of her, pulled her down, and propped her between us. Which would have been a relief, except apparently some industrious onlooker had unhooked her bra, so when she stood up, it slipped off her shoulders and hung in the crook of her elbows.
Jean giggled. “Oops.”
I lifted it back up in place and reached around to hook it again.
“No,” she slapped my hands away. “I want to be free.”
I scowled. “That’s going to be really hard in prison.”
“Let me.” Logan took the ends of the bra and fastened them in two seconds flat. He must have noted my look because he shrugged. “A skill I learned in the back of the bus in seventh grade.”
“Hooking bras up?” I asked, my brows raised.
He grinned rakishly and draped Jean’s shirt around her, completely ignoring my question. “Let’s get her out of here.”
“I’ll take her home,” Warren piped up.
I’d forgotten about him. As if I would let my sister go home with a guy who encouraged her to strip in public. “No, thanks. We got it.”
He latched onto Jean’s arm. “She’s my date.”
She gave him her wobbly smile. “You’re my date, too.”
I yanked Jean back. Her head snapped forward and her hair covered her face like she was doing an impression of a red headed Cousin Itt. She went heavy and dangled from our arms; I knew she had passed out. “We’ll take her home.”
As Logan and I edged away, Warren grabbed my hand. “Will you at least give her my number? I have to see her again.”
Rolling my eyes, I huffed in exasperation. “Fine.”
But he didn’t let go. “Promise.”
God, he was relentless. No wonder he was so successful in business development. “I promise. Now let go before we get thrown out of here.”
The bouncers arrived at our side, their arms crossed, shooting us that intimidating glare they must practice in front of a mirror.
I tired to smile at them. “We’re leaving.”
“Yes, you are,” one of them replied flatly.
I glanced at Logan as we dragged Jean’s dead weight out the bar and to his car. We propped her against the door so Logan could get his keys out of his pocket.
“Maybe we should put her in the trunk.”
Logan slipped the key in the lock and glanced at me as he popped it open. “What?”
“I’d hate it if she threw up in there.” His Mustang was so beautiful.
He picked Jean up like she was a doll instead of an Amazon and set her in the front seat. “Does she usually throw up when she’s drunk?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure she’s ever been drunk before.”
“I think we can take our chances,” he said with a smile as he closed the door.
I knew he was doing me a favor, but I couldn’t help taking advantage of the situation. “Maybe I should drive since I know how to get to my house.” I batted my eyes for good measure.
Chuckling, he reached for my hand and pulled me flush against him.
Was he going to kiss me now? He was, I just knew it. I licked my lips, hoping they were sufficiently soft and supple and not like sandpaper.
He dropped the keys in my hand, closed my fist, and pressed a kiss to my knuckles. “You can drive.”
Must have heard wrong. I shook my head to clear it. “Excuse me? I thought you just said I could drive your baby?”
“I did.”
I gasped. Then I shot out of his arms and climbed in before he changed his mind. Of course, I had to get back out to let him in the back seat, but then we were settled.
I took a deep breath and grinned into the rearview mirror. “I’ll try to keep it under a hundred.”
He smiled indulgently. “Thanks.”
And we were off.
I had a sexual experience driving that car. Good thing my house wasn’t far because another five minutes driving it and I would’ve had an orgasm right there.
I double-parked in front of my house, hopped out, and waited for Logan to emerge. He’d just closed the door when I jumped him. Literally. My arms went around his neck and my legs gripped his waist. His hands automatically went to support me under my butt.
I laughed triumphantly, throwing my head back. “That was the best ride I’ve ever had!”
I felt his grip tighten on me. Still laughing, I brought my gaze to his. And immediately sobered. The way he watched me made me conscious of how my parts fit against his. And that, judging by their firmness, his parts were interested in getting to know mine better. And in his eyes I could see him offering me a better ride.
Gulp.
As nervous as I felt about that--- yes, part of me still stung from Bobby saying I was boring in bed--- I realized I wanted it. I wanted him, more than I’d ever wanted anyone. Ever.
And damn it, I was sick of waiting for him to kiss me. This was the twenty-first century. Hell if I was going to wait docilely till he was ready. I was ready, and if he didn’t want me he wouldn’t be bursting through his jeans like he was right now.
So I lifted a hand to his neck and pulled his head down until my lips were a breath away. His gaze intensified, alternating between my lips and my eyes. Any other man would have rushed forward to take what I offered. It took me a second to realize why Logan wasn’t. Not that he didn’t want me, but to draw out the anticipation between us. He didn’t kiss me because he wanted me so much. The evidence was right before me.
Triumph surged. I smiled, just a little. He was mine.
I wanted to taste him so badly, but I stayed where I was, hovering in front of his mouth. When I spoke, my voice was sex-kitty husky. “I really like----“ I licked my lips “---your car.”
His fingers bit reflexively into my haunches and his eyes flared with need. “I can tell.”
I tightened my legs around his hips. “I wouldn’t mind driving it again.”
“That can be arranged.”
“Good.” I released my legs and slid down his body as slowly as I possibly could. I almost groaned as I passed over his erection. It made me want to climb back up and do it all over again.
Clearing my throat, I stepped back, though he stopped me by tangling his hand in my hair. “Marie.”
I could only swallow as a reply.
His hand loosened from my hair, his fingers grazing my collarbone before drifting, light as feathers, to the spaghetti strap on my left shoulder. He traced the thin strap down to the lace edging the satin covering the outside of my breast. His fingertips slipped under the lace, brushing lightly against the outside swell of my breast.
Couldn’t help it--- I gasped.
His lips curved but there wasn’t any humor in them. “I can play dirty, too.”
“I love dirty,” I managed to say. “The dirtier the better.”
“I like that about you.” His nail scraped dangerously close to my nipple.
If I shifted just a little he’d brush it. I wanted that almost as much as I wanted him to strip me and take me on the hood of his car. Though it’d leave a dent, which was sacrilege. I glanced at the sidewalk. It didn’t look too hard.
But Logan eased his finger out of my top and said, “We should get your sister inside.”
I frowned. Sister? Oh, yeah, Jean. I peered in the car, guilty that I’d forgotten about her, but she was still passed out so I doubted she’d care.
While Logan dragged her limp carcass out of the car, I ran ahead to open the front door.
Logan’s steps sounded heavy on the porch steps. Turning, I saw he had Jean cradled in his arms. I looked at the stairs leading up to my home and winced. “Do you need help carrying her upstairs?”
“No,” he said, only slightly breathless. “Lead the way.”
“I took the steps two at a time, rushing through the living room to her bedroom.
“Marie?”
“In here,” I called out as I turned down the sheets.
He walked in and I helped him get her on the bed. Silently we took Jean’s shoes off and untangled her from her shirt. The rest of her clothes we left on. Covering her, I turned the light off and we walked out.
Logan slipped his arm around my waist. “She’s going to be hurtin’ in the mornin’.”
“I know.” I didn’t even feel gleeful about it. See, I can grow. I can change.
He faced me, and his other arm snaked around me so he cradled me loosely in front of him. “Do you have plans tomorrow?”
I grinned. “I do now.”
He smirked back. “I’ve got morning classes but I can pick you up at one.”
“In the afternoon?”
“That a problem?”
I shook my head. “Of course not, but what are we going to do at one in the afternoon?”
He lowered his head and nuzzled my neck with his nose. “The same thing we’d do any other time.”
I tilted my head a little, just in case it hadn’t occurred to him to kiss my neck.
But he let go with a slight caress of my hips. “I should go.”
“You should?”
His eyes smiled and he pushed back my hair. “It’s probably best. No tellin’ what may happen if I stay.”
“I’m willing to find out.”
Chuckling, he swung an arm around my shoulder. “Walk me out.”
Sigh.
When we got to the bottom of the stairs, I put my hand on the doorknob and leaned on it, blocking the doorway with my body. If I were six years old, I would’ve told him he had to pay the toll. But I was twenty-four, almost twenty-five, so instead I said, “What’re you going to give me to get out, sugar?”
Logan must have known exactly what I wanted because he leaned in and pressed his hips into mine. “Good night, Marie.”
His lips were right there. This time he was going to kiss me, I just knew it. For real. I half-closed my eyes as his hands gripped my shoulders.
He whirled me around, opened the door, and let himself out before I knew what happened.
“Hey!” I stared incredulously at the closed door. I heard the rumble of his engine and the slow purr as the car pulled away from the curb.
He tricked me.
I started to laugh, delighted that he outmaneuvered me like that. He’d left me wanting him. More than I thought was ever possible.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Ehck. I was not happy at all with the last chapter. A big part of me wanted to go back and delete and do it all over again, but hell. what's done is done.