Page 60 of The Player Next Door

“No, not—not entirely. That first night, when we talked in the elevator, and then—”

“We fucked,” she supplied drily.

He huffed out an awkward laugh. “Yeah, that. That was real, and there was something different about you from the start, I think. I never spend the night, you know. Not with hookups.”

“But you did with me.”

“Yeah. And then Peggy showed up, and with everything going on at work with that client, I panicked, and I thought, well, you’re great, so it wouldn’t be that hard to, you know, try and make this legit. And then you just blew me away, and I’ve been scared ever since.” He was leaving out telling Schneider she was his girlfriend, but that was nothing. It was real now, so that didn’t matter anymore. He could tell her that part later, once he was sure she understood.

“Scared that I’d find out the truth?”

“That you’d think of me the way everyone else does. As a good fuck, and nothing more. That you wouldn’t want more, and I did. I do.”

“Is that really what you think of yourself?” she asked softly.

“Isn’t that how everyone sees me?” he replied, but she put her finger to his lips to silence him. The knot in his chest started loosening, unraveling with each brush of her fingertip. “I mean, I am pretty good at it, you know.”

Her lips started curving into a grin. “Sex?”

“Sex,” he confirmed. “And you would know.”

“Is now when I should admit that I think our first attempt was at best a six out of ten?” she asked.

“What? Seriously? Even when I—” Logan spluttered until it hit him: if she was joking, she understood. And if she understood and didn’t hate him, well, that was perfect.

“I’m kidding. Well, sort of, I think we both could have done a little better that night, but that’s—”

“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to skip to the part where you forgive me so I can fuck you properly,” Logan interrupted.

Clare laughed and tucked her face into his shoulder. There was a sharp inhale, like she was preparing for a speech, but then she let it go and sat back up. “There’s nothing to forgive, Logan. You’re fine.”

Logan let her kiss the grin off his face in response, losing himself in the elation of having her with him, warm and wanting. The kiss started slow, a gentle exploration, but when he took her face in his hands it started heating up, becoming less about what had just happened and more about what was to come.

Clare laced their fingers together and leaned her weight into pressing his hands against the cushion. “The other night was about what I wanted—needed, really,” Clare whispered, and rolled her hips, dragging her core along his rock-hard length. “I think it’s my turn to seduce you. Get you to take what you want.”

Logan struggled to keep himself together. He would never stop being surprised by her, never knowing where that mind of hers would go. “What if all I want is you?” He swallowed hard, shocked the words came out so easily.

Her throat bobbed as she took in his words. Her next question came out slow, hesitant. “Then what about what I want?”

“Are you complaining about something?” he asked with an arched brow. It was the sort of banter he was used to—charged and flirtatious—but it felt different, lighter and heavier at the same time.

She clicked her tongue, annoyed, but a shadow of a dimple appeared in her left cheek. He kissed it, just because he could, and Clare’s eyes fluttered closed. “What ifIwantyou?” she asked, eyes slowly opening. He could have sworn he saw fire in them, kindled deep in their depths.

“Then you should take me,” he said, and the thin leash he had on his self-control snapped. He surged up to claim her mouth, welcoming her tongue with his as she once again rocked their hips together. She dragged her lips to just beneath his ear, her hot breath sending shivers down his spine.

Clare shoved his T-shirt up, greedy hands climbing his abs, and she shifted her weight back to let him pull it the rest of the way off. She ducked his elbows and overbalanced, tipping backwards. Logan’s arm shot out and caught her just in time, slamming their chests together as laughter burst from both their lips. She rested her forehead against his for a heartbeat, but he was too impatient, too eager to taste her smile, and then they were kissing again, her nipples hard through the thin fabric of her tank top.

She let him shove her cardigan off her shoulders. The strap on her top fell and he nuzzled into the spot it had been, nipping at her collarbone and grinning to himself when she arched her back.

He scooted forward, getting his feet under him, and then hefted her into his arms as he strode toward her bedroom. He dropped her unceremoniously on the bed, gratified by her delighted squeal when he grabbed her ankles and yanked her to the edge.

It was short work to peel her leggings and panties down, and even shorter to bury his face between her thighs. He wanted to stay there for ever, maybe die showing her how good he wanted her to feel, but all too soon she tugged him up by his hair, hand going to his waist as she kissed him deeply.

By the time he was naked and rolling the condom on, his hands were trembling. Suddenly he felt like a virgin, all adrenaline and questions.

She reached up and stroked his cheek, her touch gentle. “Hey. It’s just me,” she said, “and we’ve done this before.”

Logan rested his forehead against hers and laughed weakly. “And you just said it was mediocre,” he replied.