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He licks his lips, and I tremble.

“Touch your clit. Just barely, with your thumb.”

I let out a little moan, and Logan stands again, clapping his hand over my mouth.

“Don't want anyone in on your dirty little secret, do you?”

“Fuck, Logan, let me?—”

“Come? You want me to let you come, princess?”

I nod, brushing my thumb across my clit again, but Logan jerks down my skirt, buttons up my blouse.

“No.”

Wait, what? “Logan?—”

“If I don’t get to touch you, you don’t get to come.”

I’m burning with the need for completion. “I hate you.”

He chuckles, stepping back and letting me see how hard he is against his thigh.

“I'm not the biggest fan of you right now, either, princess.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Iamserious. Go back to work.”

I stare at him, but all he does is go behind his desk and sit down while I’m still aching.

I storm back to my desk.

“Oh, he’s playing chess, not checkers,” Dina mumbles to Javier, and they both laugh.

I glare at them, but don’t say anything. I just have to get to this family dinner. Then, everything will be over.

Over for good.

And that’s what I want, right?

I can’t forgive him.

Not ever.

ChapterThirty

LOGAN

Meredith Whitlock is drivingme fucking crazy in her little skirts and her pierced bellybutton. She keeps coming into the office out of dress code and flirting with Paul, and I want to rip my face off.

I want her so badly and can’t have her. It’s like the last few years all over again, and it’s making me nuts.

She could have anyone she wants. Why torment me?

It may have something to do with the fact that I would hate it if she was with anyone else and would try to stop it any way I could.

Fuck.