Your Captivating Love (11 page)

“You deserve all the accolades. I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, you did more than you know.”

Licking his lips, Logan then plants a gentle kiss on mine. I want to pull him to me for more, but he says, “Nadine, my self-control already hangs on a thin thread. If I kiss you again, I’ll lose it, and when I make love to you, I want to be able to take my sweet time with you.” My breath catches.
When
. Not
if
.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with anticipation, does it?” I narrow my eyes at him, as I get dressed.

“Maybe it does,” he says playfully. “Let me show you to your room.” He takes my hand as he leads me through the apartment. The bedrooms are adjacent and, in the doorway, Logan says, “Think about me while you sleep.”

“I didn’t bring anything to sleep in,” I realize. “Just fresh clothes for tomorrow.”

“I can give you a shirt.”

Two can play this anticipation game of his.
Deciding to be naughty, I say, “I’ll sleep naked. Think about
that
while you sleep.”

I
wake up with a big grin in the morning. It takes me a minute to realize why I’m not in my bed, and why I’m smiling.

Logan.

I rise from the bed and head straight to the bathroom. I use his shower gel to wash; it smells like him, and I imagine that Logan is in here with me. God, the things he did with his hand last night... To take my mind off the heated moment—because otherwise, I’ll be frustrated the entire day—I do what I love most in the shower: sing obnoxiously at the top of my lungs.

After I step out of the tub, I dress in the clothes I brought yesterday and head to the kitchen, a delicious smell guiding me. To my astonishment, I find the table set and plenty of food on it.

“And here I was, thinking you not only sleep but also eat breakfast naked,” Logan says. Holy wow. I’ve only seen Logan wearing suits. Now he sports a pair of washed-out jeans and a simple white T-shirt. Casual looks good on him. In fact, more than good. The fabric molds to his skin, showcasing his to-die-for body even more so than his work shirts. The jeans hang low on his hips, giving me a glimpse of his gorgeous V-shaped side abs. Today will be excruciating.

“You wish,” I respond when I finally remember how to speak. My mouth waters as I inspect the food. And even more when I inspect Logan. I make an effort to concentrate on the food; otherwise, I might be tempted to rip off his T-shirt, and then we won’t leave the apartment today.
Priorities, priorities. Right, back to food appreciation.

“Where did all this come from? Your fridge was empty last night.”

“I had someone buy breakfast for us and some other things. Come on; eat up. Long day ahead.”

I sit at the table silently, wishing I’d have the words to tell him how much this means to me. No one’s ever made me breakfast. When I was a kid, I prepared my own and made sure Mom didn’t starve herself. After my mom got back on her feet, she always left for work before I woke up, so I ate by myself.

“You can still back out of helping me.”

“No chance. By the way, I’m sure you are a woman of many talents, but your singing skills are terrible.”

It completely slipped my mind that he might hear me. “Oh, well, I can’t wait to show you my other talents.” I wink at him.

“What might those be?”

“I won’t tell you yet. A girl’s got to have her secrets.”

Logan narrows his eyes. “Will you be naked when you show me those skills?”

“You perv.”

He holds up his palms in defense. “I can’t help it. Someone teased me right before I went to sleep. Gave me the biggest case of blue balls since I was in high school.”

I burst out laughing, shaking my head.

Inspecting the full table, I ask, “Why is there food for five people?”

Logan tilts his head to one side. “We’ll do a lot of physical work today, so we need a good breakfast.”

“Logan, you don’t have to help me. I’m sure you can find better things to do on a Saturday.”

“Not at all.” He surprises me by rounding the table and hugging me from behind, his teeth grazing my earlobe. “I can’t wait to see you sweat. I might even be rewarded with small, delicious grunts. From all the hard work, of course.”

Goosebumps form on the skin on my arms, and Logan chuckles. I wonder what he’d do if he knew about the goosebumps on my inner thighs, and the slickness between them. I fantasized about him the entire night, waking up panting, and this
so
isn’t helping. But before I can decide on the best way to tease him, his phone rings.

“I’m helping you. It’s not negotiable. Consider it a gift for me, fulfilling a guilty pleasure.”

I consider it the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.

He moves away and answers the call. While I chew my food, I can’t help overhearing bits and pieces of his conversation, even if he’s a good few feet away from the table. Most of it doesn’t make sense, but when I hear the word
billion
, I almost choke on my croissant.

Most of the time, it’s easy to forget who Logan is—CFO and stakeholder of a multi-billion dollar company. This man rubs elbows with the most important people in the country. This same man chose to date little ol’ me, a girl from a small town with a big dream, and to spend his Saturday renovating a shithole instead of doing anything else.

After he finishes the conversation, he fills a plate with food and excuses himself, explaining he must send a few emails before we leave. He spends the rest of our breakfast typing on his laptop.

Afterward, on the way out of the apartment, he picks up a toolbox by the door.

“This wasn’t here yesterday,” I remark.

Logan chuckles. “You’re perceptive. I had a driver bring me my toolbox from my parents’ house this morning.”

“I have tools back at the shop. You don’t need to bring it with you.”

Logan feigns shock. “Of course I have to. I need my toys, can’t play with someone else’s.”

I do a double take. “You have to stop doing that.”

“What?” he asks innocently.

“Throwing around sexual innuendos all the time.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was speaking from a technical perspective. Not my fault you have a dirty mind.” He winks at me, adding, “Seriously. Every man needs his tools.” Then he wiggles his eyebrows.

Right
. No innuendo there.

***

W
hen we step into the store, the monstrosity of the task hits me. If I were alone, I might crumble underneath it, but with Logan at my side, it seems manageable.

“First things first,” he says. “I suggest we cover the windows with paper.”

“Why?”

“It’ll maintain an air of mystery. Wouldn’t you rather have the people who pass by wonder what’s going on inside rather than see all the gritty steps of renovation?”

“Building anticipation, I understand.”

“Exactly. You’re a fast learner. Let them wonder.”

As we cover the windows, I’m thinking there is some merit to this anticipation theory, because even
I
wonder what we’ll be doing inside.

Once done, I show him my list. “Let’s start with the first two points.”

Logan nods. “That’s a great place to start.”

As we start working, it becomes clear he’s a pro at this. I sigh. Seeing him doing physical tasks has me squirming and imagining... things.

“Do you want me to nail this for you?” Logan’s baritone voice booms between heavy breaths.

Unfortunately, my brain picks out only the words “nail” and “you,” and my imagination goes completely off the rails.
Yes, Logan, you can absolutely nail me
. Only when he asks, “Nadine?” do I realize he’s waiting for my answer.

“Yes, please,” I say breathlessly. “You are excellent at this stuff. How come?”

“There was a lot of physical work to do at my parents’ ranch when we were kids. There was almost always something to renovate, and Sebastian and I helped Dad. After Sebastian left for the city, I did most of the work. Even now, my dad likes to do stuff himself. I go out and help because the old man is stubborn and doesn’t understand that he’s not supposed to fix the roof at sixty, so I go and make sure he’s okay. That’s why I have a toolbox there.”

Every other man in his position would send someone over to help his dad. Not Logan. I want to hug him. But if I do, I’ll kiss him too, and the whole thing will escalate quickly. There’s enough sexual tension as it is. Who knew there could be anything sexy about sweat and dust?

As I hear Logan breathe hard, and even occasionally grunt, I can’t help but sneak glances at him then admonish myself. I have to pay attention, or accidents might happen. More than once, I find my concentration sliding as I ogle him instead of doing my task.

My prediction comes true not five seconds later, when I accidentally spill water on Logan’s shirt, soaking it. Now, here’s the thing. I’m not a clumsy person, not at all. But being around Logan seems to change that. He’s a danger to my mind, and my senses.

“If you wanted to see me shirtless, all you had to do was ask,” Logan says with a lazy smile. “It wasn’t necessary to get me all wet.”

I lick my lips as I watch him remove his shirt, laying it on a radiator.
Holy smokes.
Now this... This is beyond distracting. The man is a work of art. My vision roams over his chest and abs, over the V-shaped dent pointing downward. With a wink, Logan goes back to working as if he didn’t just make my ovaries explode. He could wear his jacket, but why would he? Teasing me is more fun. Also, if I’m honest, he’d be too hot if he wore it. Taking deep breaths, I follow suit, concentrating on my tasks. Over the next few hours, I do manage to do that, save for the glances I sneak every now and again. I think I’m doing an excellent job of not being obvious until he says, “Like what you see?”

“You’re great eye candy,” I offer. He holds up his right hand as if saying,
Not my fault
. Except it is, it’s entirely his fault for having a body made for sin.

“You’d better use both hands to fix that board,” I warn him.

He wiggles his eyebrows. “I can do great things with just one hand.”

I gulp, remembering the way he touched me last night. “I completely agree.”

For the next hour, I keep my eyes focused on the task at hand, though my mind travels to dirty land again.

“You’re dirty,” Logan says unexpectedly. I blush, wondering if he can truly read my mind, before I realize we’re both covered in a thick layer of dust.

“So are you.” I drink in the sight of his muscular frame again. Then I notice he’s watching me.

“You have an unfair advantage,” he says, pinning me with his dark eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m half-naked. You’re not.”

I lick my lips. “Lucky me.”

“Let’s get some of this dust off you.”

Before I realize what’s going on, Logan disappears in the back, returning with a glass full of water. He picks up one of the brand new brushes, and dips it in the glass. I follow his movements as he grabs my hand, turning it wrist up. Logan runs the soaked brush over my skin in one light touch. The patch of skin between my legs slickens instantly, and I involuntarily press my thighs together.

“Oh.” The word slips past my lips in a moan. How can one simple swipe turn me on like this? As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, Logan pushes my shirt up until my strapless bra is visible. Tugging with his teeth on his lower lip, his hand pushes it downward until my breasts spill free. His Adam’s apple dips low in his throat as his eyes lock on my girls.

“You really are very talented with just one hand,” I say.

“Thought you needed some cleaning here too.” His voice is rough. God, we’re both so turned on, it’s a miracle we can see straight anymore. When Logan touches one of my nipples with the brush, I see stars in front of my eyes.

“My nipples are especially dirty, huh?” I manage to ask.

“Especially.” His breath catches as I dip my fingers in the water then torture him, running my hand all over his chest, descending lower and lower until I reach the fly of his pants. Logan’s nostrils flare, as if he’s having trouble breathing. His eyes are locked on my breasts.

“Now what?” I inquire.

“Now, back to work,” he says.

The bastard. Why does he have to be such a tease? I’ll have my revenge.

We work for another three hours before I give in. Every muscle in my body hurts from the exertion, not to mention sexual frustration. Facing the paper-covered windows, I tilt my head to the right then to the left, squaring my shoulders in an attempt to relieve some of the tension.

“Tense much?” Logan whispers in my ear, startling me. I hadn’t heard him come up behind me.

“Mmm. A little.”

He presses his fingers on my spine, pushing them farther up. The second they slide from my shirt onto my bare skin, I shudder. Before long, both his hands massage the base of my neck and shoulders. They are rough and callused—all man, yet at the same time, they glide effortlessly against my skin. He presses on the exact pain points as if he has a degree in massaging.

“This is good. Oh, Logan.”

“Stop those sounds, Nadine.” His voice is equal parts desire and torment.

“Why?” I ask.

He groans in my ear, and it’s the sexiest sound I’ve heard all day. Involuntarily, I flatten my back against his chest, and my hips follow. That’s when I feel his hard-on against my ass. Logan drops his hands from my shoulders, wrapping me in his arms. I still.

“Because I was planning on taking you out to dinner then making love to you at home, in an actual bed. I’ve clung to that thought all day. It was a good plan.” He drops his head in the crook of my neck, his hot, labored breaths singeing my skin. I’ve never felt more wanted.

At the same time, I’ve never felt safer. I had no idea a man could awaken both feelings inside me, much less at the same time, but Logan is unlike any man I’ve ever met. “You know what the best thing about plans and rules are?”

“What?” I’m shocked to discover I’m trembling in his arms. It’s more of a light shiver, but it’s impossible to miss.