Run the Risk (5 page)

“Good. Fussy women are annoying.”

Distant thunder rumbled, and they both looked toward the
balcony. The bright evening sunshine had faded beneath thick gray clouds that
darkened the sky. A troubled breeze carried in cooler air.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Logan said, “but this is the weirdest
date I’ve ever had.”

That brought her back around to face him. “It wasn’t a
date!”

“Sure it was.” Mood teasing, he came closer. “A little necking,
dinner and conversation, getting to know each other.”

Oh, God. Maybe it was a date.

“Usually doesn’t happen in that order, and I can’t recall ever
talking marriage on a first date.”

“You brought it up!”

“To appease your curiosity.” A light patter of rain danced over
the patio doors. “But it wasn’t bad for our first. Was it?”

Not bad at all. In fact, it was the first time in ages that
she’d forgotten, for just a little while, how much her life had changed. “No, I
suppose it—”

Bright lightning splintered the sky, chased by a deafening
crack of thunder that reverberated in the floor beneath their feet.

She said, “Wow.” And the electricity died.

It needed only this.

The combination of no lights and black sky left the apartment
cast in deep mysterious shadows.

Logan walked to the patio doors just as the storm hit in
earnest, pounding the earth with a deluge of rain. It blew in against his bare
chest, dampening his skin, his hair and the front of those well-worn jeans.

He shut his doors and, after swiping off his face, crossed the
floor to get the kitchen window, too.

Because she stood there in a lustful daze, he prompted her.
“What about your windows? They open?”

How had she forgotten that? “Damn it,” she said, and bolted
back to her own apartment. She didn’t want Logan to follow her, but she didn’t
take the time to tell him not to. The way the rain blew in, everything she owned
would be soaked in under a minute.

She got the balcony doors closed while he shut the kitchen
window for her. She darted into the bathroom to get that small window, and
Logan…went into her bedroom.

No, no,
no.

Face soaked, shirt and shoes wet, she waited, but he didn’t
come back out. Knowing proximity could get the best of her, she nonetheless
stepped into the bedroom behind him. He had his back to her, eyeing her
treadmill.

“Logan?”

When he turned, she saw his jeans clinging to his body, his
chest hair darker with the rain, his nipples tight from the chill.

Her mouth went dry.

“Sorry.” He ran a hand over his face and pushed back his hair.
“It was coming in pretty good. Your floor’s wet, and so is the bottom of your
bed.”

She stayed by the door, her thoughts rioting with explicit
images of him naked, the things he’d do, the things she wanted to do to him.

A sudden shift in the air, in his mood, sent a thread of
excited alarm up her spine.

He took a step toward her. “What about you, Sue?”

Not knowing what he asked, she shook her head in confusion.

“It’s too damn dark for me to tell,” he whispered, coming
closer. In a husky, suggestive tone, he said, “I’m betting you’re wet, too.”

So many ways she wanted to reply—all of them dangerous.

She couldn’t think when she looked at him, so she turned her
back and tried to order herself to caution.

“Thank you for the help.” It was an obvious hint for him to go,
but at the same time, she had that image of him standing there, at the foot of
her unmade bed. Tall, bare-chested, sexy as sin…

His hands settled on her shoulders; his scent settled around
her.

And before he said a single word, she knew she was a goner.

* * *

L
OGAN
IGNORED
the not-so-subtle suggestion for him to hit the road,
especially since her voice had gone all thin and high. She was nervous, he got
that.

Why, he didn’t yet know.

But he had her in a bedroom, in the near-dark, and with every
fiber of his being, he was aware of her as a woman.

Not of his plan to get hold of her brother. Not of how she
could assist him in his goal to obtain justice.

Just…
her.

The way she trembled, the scent of her damp skin, her
arousal.

They stood in the shadows while lightning flashed outside and
occasional thunder rattled the windows.

Holding her shoulders, he drew her back into his chest and bent
to inhale the heady fragrance of her damp skin. “I don’t want to leave you alone
in this storm.”

The silence grew taut, and he knew she warred with herself,
with what she wanted—and probably her damned brother’s rules.

Finally she whispered, “I’ll be fine.”

“You want me to stay.” And knowing that, he went about
convincing her, putting soft love bites on her throat, teasing her ear with his
breath and his tongue, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close enough
that she felt his erection against her soft ass.

“Logan…”

“Your shirt is wet,” he told her and boldly smoothed a hand up
and over her breast. The restrictive bra confounded him. It couldn’t be
comfortable.

“Don’t.” She caught his wrist and drew his hand down to her
waist, but she didn’t step away from him.

“Okay.” He pressed his hand lower, to her belly, and asked, “Is
this better?”

She shocked him by nodding.

Need held him in a powerful grip; he pressed his hand lower,
between her thighs, cupping her through the long skirt and insubstantial
underwear.

They both breathed harder.

She parted her thighs.

Amazing. So this was okay, but her breasts were off-limits?
Prodded by concern, by the idea that she could be scarred, or worse, he asked,
“Why, honey?”

Pressing back against him, she put her hand over his,
encouraging him to continue while muttering low, “No questions.”

Not being a fool, Logan agreed. When he got her in bed, he’d
get her naked, and then he’d figure it out on his own. He’d reassure her and let
her know whatever it was, it didn’t matter, not between them.

She flattened her hands on his thighs, and her nails dug into
him. He heard the catch in her breathing, savored the heat of her, how she moved
against his exploring fingers.

For the longest time they stood there like that, in the dark
with the storm all around them, damp, hot, necking and petting. He grinned
against her shoulder. “I haven’t done this since high school.”

It took a little while before she asked, “This?”

“Making out. Fooling around with my clothes on.” He pressed his
hard-on against her. “Getting so frustrated, I almost can’t take it.”

She groaned—and started to step away.

Logan turned them both instead and brought her down to the bed.
He sprawled out over her, kissing her hard, deep, hoping to obliterate any
objections.

She had none.

Of her own accord she parted her legs so that he fit between
them. Her hands tangled in his hair, and she held him close while he kissed
her.

When he again reached for her breast—dying to see her, to touch
her—she stalled. “Wait.”

Of course he did. Balanced over her, edgy with need, their
breaths mingling, he…waited.

Her body beneath his was an indistinct form, but he felt her
urgency, the way she stared at him, and her indecision.

Her hands kneaded his chest. “If we’re going to do this—”

“I hope we are.”

“—then I need the curtains closed.”

Even though it was black as pitch outside? He looked toward the
window. Was she afraid a flash of lightning would show him something?
Like what?
Thinking to encourage her, he said, “You
don’t need to—”

“And you have to keep your hands to yourself.”

Thoughts, ugly suspicions, bounded this way and that. He gave
her a gentle kiss. “I don’t understand.” Any of it, including the driving need
to discover her hang-ups. “I’ve got my hands on you now.” He emphasized that by
tucking her hair back, smoothing her cheek with his thumb.

“I don’t want you…feeling around on me.”

Moving his body over hers, he growled, “I can feel you. All of
you.” He closed his eyes at the giving softness of her curves, the open cradle
of her thighs. “You’re soft and hot and—”

A little panicked—or else very close to the edge of release—she
said in a high voice, “Promise me right now, or we’re done.”

Unease warred with conviction. He couldn’t keep from brushing
gentle kisses on the bridge of her nose, her brow, and he wanted to go on
kissing her. Everywhere. “Whatever it is, honey, I swear to you, it’s okay.”

“It’s me.” Stroking her hands around to his back, fraught with
uncertainty, she clutched at him. “I need my clothes on. I need the lights out.
I need you to keep your hands mostly to yourself.”

Jesus. “When I mentioned high school, I wasn’t looking for a
reenactment.”

She sucked in a breath. “Fine.” Shaking, she pushed against him
while trying to turn away from him. “Then let’s forget about—”

“No way.” He brought her face back around to his and again
kissed her, softer, deeper. “You can trust me, Sue.”
Like
hell.
“I won’t hurt you.”
Damn it.

In the near darkness, they watched each other. Her eyes
glimmered, but he couldn’t see her well enough to decipher her thoughts.

She touched his jaw. “Let me up.”

Damn, damn, damn. Flopping over to his back with a groan, Logan
stared toward the ceiling, hot, frustrated, but mostly troubled. From the knees
down, his legs hung over the end of the bed.

The part the rain had soaked.

The wind howled eerily, suiting his mood. Thunder crashed, and
he felt it in his chest.

He didn’t want things to end like this.

He rose up on one arm. “Sue?” It amazed him that he kept the
forethought to continue using her alias. There remained just enough light
filtering in for him to see her shadowy form as she lifted her skirt.

Lust tied him in knots. He drew in necessary oxygen. “What are
you doing?”

“Taking off my panties.” She dropped them on the floor and
crossed to the window to close the heavy curtains. “
Only
my panties.”

His heart thundered. “Yeah, all right.” Lust cut into him. When
he felt her approach, he dropped back to the bed in an agony of suspense, breath
held, erection straining.

Her hands went to the fastening of his jeans. With a small tug,
she opened the snap. “I shouldn’t do this,” she said.

He heartily disagreed.

She pushed his jeans down to his knees. “I’ll probably regret
it.”

He wouldn’t let her feel regret. Somehow he’d make it okay—

Her hand curled around him, and his thoughts shattered on a
rough groan.

Keeping his cock held tight in her small, hot hand, she climbed
onto the bed to straddle his hips. She’d lifted her skirt; her panties were
indeed gone. “Please don’t ruin this for me, Logan.”

“No.” Hell, no. “I won’t.”

Sitting back a little, she stroked him once, then released him.
“Can you put on this condom?”

Where the hell had she gotten it?

Screw it, he didn’t care. He found her hand in the darkness and
took the rubber from her. “Yeah, no problem.” Amazing that he felt so close; it
hadn’t been that long for him. He shouldn’t be so wired, so fucking desperate to
get inside her.

She was plain, timid, with a nondescript build and more secrets
than he could count.

She was a pawn in his scheme to corral the murderous Morton
Andrews.

But he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this.

CHAPTER FOUR

L
OGAN
LOVED
SEX
, always had, always would. No two ways about
that. Somehow, with Pepper Yates and all her coy rules and seductive timidity,
it felt different. Scorching. Salacious.

Like a kinky fantasy come to life.

Her soft bare thighs opened over his hips. Not touching her was
one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He fisted his hands in the damp sheets
of her bed.

Again she wrapped her small hand around him. “I can feel you
pulsing,” she whispered.

God. “Tell me what you need, honey.”

“You,” she said. “Inside me.” And with that, she moved over
him, positioning him, moving the head of his cock against her hot, slick
flesh.

He couldn’t remember ever being so turned on, so primed.
“You’re wet,” he said with savage satisfaction. She gave him so little…but he
had this.

“I know.” She sank down the tiniest bit, caught her breath and
hesitated.

Shaking all over, Logan held himself as still as he could. Jaw
tight, he waited. He could barely see her, but her scent was stronger now, her
body clamping around him, alternately squeezing him, then softening again with
devastating effect.

It was a snug fit, and with her only working the sensitive
head, he thought he’d lose it. Through his teeth, he said, “More, Sue.” He drew
a harsh breath. “Now, or it’ll be over before it begins.”

“I’m sorry.” She braced a hand flat on his chest and pressed
down, rocking a little, working herself down over him. “It’s been a while for
me.”

“You need me to touch you, to help ready you—”

“No.” Now with both hands on his chest, she gasped, and sank
more.

Heels to the floor, Logan lifted up and pressed himself as deep
as he could go until he’d buried himself inside her.

He heard her vibrating groan and felt the way her inner muscles
worked him.

“Yeah?” Anchoring himself so he wouldn’t forget and reach for
her, he waited.

“Yes,”
she breathed.

Thank God. He drove up into her again and again. He wanted to
hold her hips, he wanted to free her breasts and suck on her nipples.

But all he had was this, and it was so damned erotic, he had to
concentrate hard to keep from coming.

They found the perfect rhythm together. Her nails curled into
his pectoral muscles, then kneaded him in pleasure. He growled, and she
purred.

“Let me kiss you,” he said. He needed at least that. “Give me
your mouth.”

Lowering to her forearms, she bit his bottom lip, kissed him
hard, licked her tongue against his. This new position drove him even deeper,
brought her clitoris into contact with his shaft with each solid thrust—and he
felt the start of her climax.

Against his mouth she cried out, still kissing him with hunger,
grinding herself against him, harder and faster.

Suddenly she arched back with a harsh moan, riding out her
orgasm, and more than anything Logan wished he could see her.

Letting himself go, he groaned with her, stunned by the power
of what she made him feel, by her physical and emotional appeal. The release
continued until he was drained, until the aftershocks faded and she sprawled
down over him, a limp, sweet weight over his heart.

They were half off the bed, half on it, as lax as the
sheets.

Carefully, Logan settled his hands on her narrow back.
“Okay?”

“Mmm.” She kissed his sweaty chest, nuzzled her nose against
him and said with clear regret, “It’s such a shame that you have to go.”

* * *

H
E
WENT
STILL
beneath her, then rigid. “Is that a joke?”

On a long, melancholy sigh, Pepper levered herself up over him.
“No.” She patted his rock-hard shoulder, disengaged their bodies, and left the
bed. “I wish you could stay.” She really, really did. “But I’m sorry. You
can’t.”

“You’re kicking me out?” He sat up in disbelief.
“Now?”

“Yes.” If only the lights would come back on first so she could
get a good look at him. But darkness prevailed. She moved away and opened the
curtains again. “It’s getting late.”

“It’s only half an hour later than it was before we got in
bed!”

True. Unfortunately, prolonged foreplay wasn’t in the works for
them. Trying to ignore his irritation, she started out of the room. “I need a
shower.”

He was off the bed in a heartbeat, stepping into her path,
blocking her retreat.

Offended.

Given her current frame of mind—sort of soft and distracted
and…susceptible—it was a good thing he’d pulled up his jeans. They were still
open, and now that she’d parted the drapes again, she could see his abdomen…and
lower. But at least she didn’t see all of him, everything that she’d touched,
stroked.

The thick flesh that had filled her up.

Her heart beat in a slow, steady rhythm. Resisting the urge to
touch him, Pepper put her hands behind her and backed up.

Incredulous, he glared. “No fucking way are you afraid of
me.”

After everything they’d just done? “No.” She was afraid of
herself, of her reactions to him. She couldn’t do this—but she had. And it had
been so wonderful…

He tried a different tack. Taking her shoulders, caressing her,
he cajoled, “Let me stay the night.”

“I can’t.” She took another quick step back—out of his
reach.

His hands dropped. “I don’t fucking believe this.”

His coarse language grated on her. They’d had sex—weird,
restrained sex, but still, that didn’t give him the right to treat her without
respect.

“I don’t believe you’re cursing me.”

“Not
you.
” Working off what was
clearly a very short fuse, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s this
situation. I thought we were getting closer. I thought…”

That it meant something? He sounded like a scorned woman, and
she felt like a jerk.

It seemed a wise thing to get out of the bedroom. Pepper went
as far as the small sofa and paused.
Don’t do it, Pepper.
Don’t do it—
“We could share dinner again. Tomorrow I mean.”
She squeezed her eyes shut.
“If you’re not busy.”

The sudden silence nearly choked her. Had the storm finally
quieted, too? She wasn’t in the habit of propositioning men. Even before her
life had changed so drastically, she hadn’t thrown out dinner invitations.

She hadn’t needed to.

Wondering what Logan thought, if he’d accept her offer, she
turned to him. He’d crossed his arms, but his nonchalant stance couldn’t hide
his antagonism.

“Well?” She wished he’d say something.

“I’m trying to figure out if you’re really inviting me for
dinner, or for sex.”

Both.
Feeling a little foolish, she
shook her head. “Never mind. It was a bad idea.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” In three long strides he reached her.
“Whatever we just did, I liked it.”

Her knees went weak. “Me, too.”

“Yeah?” He caressed her again. “It was unusual—”

He meant odd. Weird. Bizarre.

“—but I don’t think I’ve ever been that turned on.”

“Really?” Sure,
she’d
loved it, but
then even a crumb was delicious to a starving woman. And that had been no more
than a crumb.

Guys were always easy, but still, she couldn’t believe he’d be
that accepting of her restrictions.

“Absolutely.” With two fingers, Logan touched her chin. “If
you’re asking me over for more of the same, I’m in.”

Could she make the apartment dark enough? Would she have an
opportunity to buy blackout blinds? Did she dare have an encore of that unique
and somewhat torturous intimacy?

“But,” he said, interrupting her thoughts, “if it’s only dinner
you want, I’m in for that, too.”

No way.
If he accepted a “dinner
only” invite, it’d be because he figured he’d eventually get back in her bed.
“Okay.”

Proving her right, he slid both hands around her neck. “You
know I’m rooting for the first option, right?”

“Yes.” She was sort of rooting for it, too. “I understand that.
I just don’t know…”

He kissed her. “We’ll play it by ear, see where things take
us.”

“Okay.” And if she could find a way around Rowdy’s temper over
it all, then for sure, the bed would win. But she had no illusions about keeping
this from her brother. He knew everything she did, and who she did it with.

Well, not the sexual details, of course. But he always watched
her so closely, no way would he miss the fact that Logan had been in her
apartment, during a power outage, without a lot to do to keep them busy.

Rowdy wouldn’t be happy. She sometimes thought if he could have
his way, he’d keep her locked up, out of sight.

Out of the way.

Thinking about that bothered her, so she again said to Logan,
“You need to go.”

Something dark and dangerous—probably ego—glittered in his
eyes. “You have my number handy?”

“On top of the fridge.”

Despite his menacing expression, his touch remained gentle,
persuasive. “Keep it by your bedside, all right? Better, program it into your
cell phone. Just in case you need me.”

Need him? Did he mean for sexual satisfaction or physical
protection? Either way… “I’ll be fine.”

Answering her question, he said, “If this blackout lasts, you
don’t know what kind of trouble might come knocking at your door.”

True enough, but she wasn’t worried. “It’s just a storm.” God
knew she had survived worse things than weather. “And actually…I’m good with
numbers.”

“Meaning you’ve memorized it already?”

She shrugged.

“Good.” Still he hesitated. “I’m leaving under duress.”

Never had she known anyone like him. Sure, most men would take
sex in just about any circumstances that they could get it. But what they had
just done had to top the list of peculiar sexual encounters.

Still, she knew he’d reached satisfaction. His harsh groans had
been wonderful to hear, and the way his body had tensed, the heat pouring off
him during his release—she’d loved every second of it.

He’d gotten what he wanted. But now, instead of being glad to
escape further involvement, he wanted to hang around.

That sort of made her smile. “Thank you.”

Taking her by surprise, he wrapped one arm around her waist,
the other under her backside, and he lifted her off her feet. Given her height,
that was no easy feat, but he didn’t look strained.

Actually, he looked turned on. Again.

With her pelvis flattened to his hard abdomen, her legs aligned
with his, she braced her hands on his bare shoulders.
Hot.

“Logan!” She gasped. “What are you doing?”

Her well-covered breasts were even with his chin, but he stared
into her eyes. “I need another taste to tide me over until tomorrow.”

“Oh.” She found no fault with that plan. “Okay.”

Treating her to the full effect of his potent appeal, he kissed
her—and this kiss was different from the others. Not entirely sexual, but not
exactly sweet and innocent, either.

It was maybe a kiss of…understanding. And interest.

As he lowered her back to her feet, he said, “Think about me
tonight, Sue. And think about what we’ll do tomorrow.” He gave her one more kiss
before leaving.

Pepper watched him go. Think about him? She doubted she’d be
able to think of anything else.

* * *

H
AT
PULLED
LOW
, collar up, Rowdy Yates hung
back in the shadows, shielded from the downpour by the slight overhang of the
building across from the apartment complex. He chewed the end of a toothpick
until there was nothing left of it.

What the hell was she thinking, fooling around with the new
neighbor? She knew better, damn it.

Because he’d taught her better.

Having random, well-hidden cameras in the building hadn’t
proved useful until now. Usually, she took no chances. He’d felt safe with the
occasional contact, knowing Pepper could reach him in case of an emergency.

But ever since Logan Stark had moved in, he’d been more
vigilant—mostly because Pepper had been different. It seemed that, despite all
his precautions, she’d come to the end of her rope. He’d have to deal with that,
with her—but first he’d deal with Logan Stark.

Down the street, somewhere in the darkness, a car alarm blared.
Glass broke. Sirens split the night.

A streetlamp flickered back on, disturbing the concealing
cocoon of the blackout, sending a river of light to shimmer across the
washed-out roadway.

The woman on his arm shivered from the rain and pressed her
heavy breasts into his side. “It’s cold.”

“Not really.” He’d already forgotten her name but didn’t care.
He wouldn’t see her again after tonight. Wrapping an arm around her, Rowdy
asked, “Better?”

“Are we going in or not?”

“Yeah.” He could smell her perfume, felt the heat of her small
body. He threw the toothpick away. “Remember, I’ve got an hour or less. That’s
all.”

Running a hand down his chest and smiling, she said, “Sugar,
that’s all the time I need.”

* * *

S
TILL
CURLED
IN
HER
BED
,
relaxed from a good night’s sleep, Pepper watched the sun begin filtering
through the curtains. She had that type of lethargy that only came from sex.

She stretched, smiling, wondering what the coming day—and the
night—might bring. More time with Logan? More sex? She hoped so.

Her cell phone rang.

She frowned toward it, but she knew it would be Rowdy, and she
knew he’d be angry. Much as she wanted to keep reality at bay, she had to
answer.

Rolling to the side of the bed, she snatched up the phone and
pressed the button to accept the call. “You’re up early.”