Authors: Natasha Rostova
The Naked Truth (2 page)
‘Logan, what was your relationship with your father like?’ she asked.
After the briefest hesitation, he glanced at her. ‘My father?’
‘Yes. You’ve never told me about him.’
Logan’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. ‘There’s nothing to tell. He was my father.’
‘Yes, but you must have had some kind of a relationship with him.’
‘Not really.’
‘Well, did he take you places?’ Callie persisted. ‘Fishing, sporting events, holidays?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘Did he teach you how to make sentences out of single words?’
He gave her a derisive look. Then the doorbell rang, and Callie stood to greet the six guests as they filed into the sitting room. The three couples were all associated with Logan’s law firm and had long ago secured their positions as some of Savannah’s most valued citizens.
‘Callie, darling, you look lovely.’ Anna Winningham’s ice-blue gaze roved over Callie’s figure, her lips curving into a plastic smile. ‘What a beautiful dress.’
Her voice was edged with the slightest hint of disapproval, which made Callie smile. She glanced at Logan, noticing that he, too, hadn’t missed Anna’s undertone.
‘Callie’s sister purchased it for her,’ he said by way of an explanation.
‘I see. Gloria always did have her own style.’
‘Evening, Callie.’ Anna’s husband Harold leant over to kiss Callie’s cheek, making a point of wrapping his arm around her waist.
For the sole purpose of provoking Logan, Callie returned Harold’s greeting with a bit more enthusiasm than was required.
‘Harold, we’re so pleased you could come,’ she said, pressing her body full up against his. Then she winced when she felt his hips thrust against hers. ‘What can we get you to drink?’
Logan gave Callie a mild glare, but turned and went back to the bar. After the guests had been secured with glasses in hand, Callie asked the caterers to start serving the hors d’oeuvres. She picked up her wineglass and sat down next to Stan Gerome, crossing her legs so that her skirt rode even further up her thighs.
‘So, Stan,’ she murmured, placing her hand on his arm. ‘Logan tells me you just won a murder case. That must have been just fascinating.’
‘Yes, it involved a robbery.’ Stan blinked at her through his horn-rimmed glasses and tugged at the knot of his tie as if it were too tight.
‘Really,’ Callie drawled. ‘Tell me about it.’
She stifled a yawn as Stan started going on about the case. She glanced in Logan’s direction, not surprised to discover that he was watching her with more than a hint of contempt.
‘Callie, some of our guests haven’t had any hors d’oeuvres yet,’ he said.
‘I’m terribly sorry about that.’ Callie turned to Stan and put her hand on his leg. ‘Excuse me for a moment, would you, please? The master of the house requires my attention.’
She smiled, letting her breasts brush against his arm as she stood. She picked up a platter of hors d’oeuvres and walked over to Michael Richmond with another inviting smile. Her face was beginning to hurt, but she’d smile all evening if she had to.
‘Michael, please, have some of this caviar. It’s imported and quite delicious.’ She leant down so that he could reach the platter, and the front of her dress gaped slightly, allowing him a full view of her small, lace-cupped breasts.
Callie almost chuckled at the way Michael’s gaze darted quickly to ogle her breasts, as if she wouldn’t notice. She didn’t exactly possess huge mounds of overflowing flesh, but apparently men would look at anything. Especially if they knew that the woman was off limits.
‘And may I get you another drink?’ She took his glass from him, brushing her fingers over his hand. ‘Scotch on the rocks coming up.’
Logan strode over to meet her at the bar. His fingers wrapped around her arm. A quiver of alarm travelled through her as she realised she might be carrying this too far, but she’d be damned if she would let him talk to her as if she were a kept woman rather than his wife.
‘Stop this behaviour right now,’ Logan said, his voice low. ‘You’re acting like a perfect –’
Callie jerked around to glare at him. ‘A perfect what?’ she interrupted. ‘A slut? Well, that’s what I look like, apparently, so I might as well act the part.’
She yanked her arm out of his grasp and returned to Michael. She spent the remainder of the evening playing silly, flirting games with the men, aware all the while that she was irritating her husband. There was something oddly arousing about this little game, knowing these other men were wanting her sexually. Warmth spread between her legs, making her press her thighs together underneath the dinner table and wish she had the kind of husband who didn’t mind slipping away from a party to indulge in a quick fuck.
She looked at Logan and almost laughed. He didn’t even indulge in furtive touching, either at dinner parties or anywhere else.
When they returned to the sitting room for coffee, Callie made a point of sitting close to Stan again, so close that their thighs touched. Yet, as the evening drew to a close, she began to get a little nervous. There wasn’t much Logan could do with guests around, but being alone with him was a whole other story.
He closed the door behind the Winninghams and turned to stride up the stairs. Callie went into the kitchen, where the caterers were finishing their cleaning.
‘Send us the bill, please, Anita,’ she told the head caterer, ‘Thanks so much. Everything was just delicious.’
Anita smiled with pleasure. ‘Thank you, Mrs Waterford. Please call us again for your next event.’
‘I’ll be sure to do that.’ Callie saw them out and locked the door behind them.
She went slowly upstairs to the bedroom, irritated with herself for feeling nervous about facing her husband. It was just Logan, after all. Her inflexible, controlled, rigid husband who had a solid rod of steel in place of a spine.
She went into the bedroom, eyeing Logan cautiously. He had removed his jacket and tie and was standing near the armoire, his dark head bent as he unfastened his cuff links.
Callie gazed at him for a moment as an unexpected pang of regret coursed through her. He was a hardworking man, successful and handsome. Yes, he was far too set in his ways, but he had never been unfaithful or abusive to her. So why did it always feel as if she was living with a stranger?
With a sigh, she kicked off her heeled shoes and wriggled her aching toes in bliss. She went into the bathroom and took a shower, scrubbing off her heavy make-up. After slipping into her simple, cotton nightshirt, she went back into the bedroom.
Logan was already in bed, his attention focused on a new book. Callie’s gaze skimmed over the muscled length of his body, which reminded her that he had a major physical advantage over her. An advantage he never chose to use, either for pleasure or pain.
She turned back the covers and slipped into bed beside him, somewhat irked by his lack of response to her behaviour.
‘Aren’t you going to yell at me?’ she asked rhetorically. Logan never yelled.
He peered at her over the top of his reading glasses. ‘Why? Because you chose to make a complete fool out of yourself?’
‘Did I?’ Callie replied. ‘Funny, your associates didn’t seem to think there was anything foolish about my behaviour. Quite the contrary, in fact.’
Only the clenching of Logan’s jaw betrayed his irritation. ‘My associates know quite well what kind of background you come from. All you did was confirm their worse suspicions about you.’
A wash of anger spread through Callie. She held up her hand to stop his words.
‘Don’t do it, Logan. Don’t you dare use my past as an excuse. Yes, I grew up poor, but only because my father lied outright to my mother.’
Despite his lack of forcefulness, Logan did always seem to know exactly how to infuriate her, Callie thought reluctantly. She hated being reminded of the confusion and despair of her childhood. Not only had her father never told her mother that he already had a wife and daughter, but he wouldn’t even acknowledge initially that Callie was his child.
‘You might have been better off if your father had never told the truth,’ Logan replied in a dry tone. ‘Then you wouldn’t have been mixed up with Gloria.’
‘I didn’t get “mixed up” with her! She’s my sister. When her mother found out about me and my mother, she was the one who forced her husband to take responsibility. Gloria’s mother is the only person I know who didn’t give a damn what people thought. She knew that none of it was my fault. She welcomed me into her home and wanted me to know my sister. I’ll always be grateful to her, but I will never forget where I came from. And I certainly won’t stand for your contempt!’
‘Then don’t earn it,’ Logan said. He removed his glasses. ‘Your behaviour was reprehensible. I hope you know I won’t stand for it a second time.’
‘What’s making you stand for it the first time?’ Callie taunted. She fairly ached to get a response from him. And something more than his damn, measured words.
‘I’m hoping you’ll realise how foolish you’re being.’
Frustrated beyond all measure, Callie slid across the expanse of the bed towards him. She reached under the covers to slid her hand over his thigh, liking the sensation of hair-roughened muscle underneath her palm. She’d always appreciated Logan’s body so much. Pity the man didn’t use it more effectively in the bedroom.
‘You mean you didn’t like it?’ she asked softly, rubbing her knuckles over the thin cotton of his boxer shorts and the bulge underneath them. ‘Watching those men watching me, wondering what they were thinking, if they were imagining –’
‘Callie, stop it.’ Even as Logan said the words, Callie felt his penis swell underneath her fingertips.
Callie put her lips against his ear and reached out to tickle his earlobe with her tongue. Arousal quickened in her, spreading long fingers over her belly. She was still turned on from her flirtatious games at the party, and she hoped she could convince her husband to alleviate some of her tension.
‘Come on, Logan,’ she murmured huskily. ‘Don’t you want to fuck me now?’
‘Don’t talk like that.’
‘Like what? Fuck me?’ Callie eased her hand under the waistband of his shorts to grasp the hard warmth of his cock. The mere touch of him caused a pulse of responding need to dampen her pussy. ‘But that’s how a slut talks.’
She rubbed her other hand over the mat of dark hair on his chest, gently tweaking his flat, male nipples into little points. His body never failed to fascinate and arouse her, but the man himself rarely followed up to the level she craved.
‘Look, if you want to have sex, fine,’ Logan said. ‘But none of that kind of talk, do you hear me?’
Callie suddenly couldn’t help grinning. ‘You are such a pompous ass, did you know that?’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’
‘You’d better, since it’s the only one you’ll get from me.’
Still thinking she could really get him going, Callie slid her leg between his and began pressing kisses over his neck and chest. He smelled perfectly delicious, all warm, male flesh with a hint of woody aftershave. Callie squeezed his cock and rubbed her fingers over the underside. A drop of moisture licked at her fingers, and she massaged it gently back into his skin. She sidled down to capture one of his nipples between her teeth, pressing her breasts against his abdomen. She licked and kissed a path down his belly to his groin, hungering to take his hard flesh in her mouth and suck him dry.
Logan’s breathing had increased during her ministrations, but then his hand clamped around the back of her neck. ‘What are you doing?’
Callie glanced up at him with a glint in her eye. ‘I’m trying to give you a blow job, but you’ll have to let go of me first.’
Logan frowned. ‘Not now, Callie.’
She let out her breath in exasperation. ‘What do you mean, not now? You’ve never let me do this.’
‘So why start?’
With a groan of frustration, Callie pushed herself away from him and sat up. ‘It’s a perfectly normal act, Logan.’
‘I’m aware of what it is.’ Logan set his book on the bedside table and turned to grasp her shoulders, pulling her back towards him. His mouth met hers in a familiar, comfortable kiss, his tongue sliding over her lower lip. He pressed her back against the pillows and grasped her nightshirt in his hands. Callie watched him as he pulled the shirt up over her hips, wondering if the man ever felt anything at all. His expression was virtually impassive. How flattering that she could inspire such lust in a man.
Callie sighed. Logan’s hands slipped between her legs to push them apart, his fingers delving into the folds of her pussy.
‘Well, I see you’re already ready,’ he observed.
‘It turned me on, you know,’ Callie replied, reaching out to slide her hands over his chest. ‘Knowing those men wanted me.’
‘I really wish you would find another way to get turned on. That was very indecent. You have my reputation to consider, too, you know.’
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