I take my time hoping that he’ll get tired of waiting, even though deep down I know he won’t. He’s not that guy.
Taking a deep breath, I open the door and there he stands. His hair is messy, and there’s a five o’clock shadow on his face. He’s wearing a tight grey t-shirt that shows off his arms and his ink. I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from propositioning him. He is my boss after all.
As soon as I reach him, he grabs my hand and pulls me down the hall, in the opposite direction of the dance floor, where the lighting is practically non-existent. We reach the end of the hall and he stops, turns to face me, and steps forward until my back is against the wall.
“You’re making this so fucking hard, Logan.”
His body is pressed tightly against mine. He runs the rough pad of his thumb across my bottom lip. “How am I supposed to resist you like this?”
He’s been drinking so I’m not sure if this is really him talking. I’ve not been around him when he’s drank this much.
“I think about that night. Every fucking day I think about what it felt like to be inside you.” He leans down and kisses my neck. “I want you. I know I can’t fucking have you, but I want you.”
He doesn’t give me time to reply as his mouth crashes against mine. I’m powerless to resist as our tongues duel. His hand traces my thigh as he lifts my leg and wraps it around his waist, holding me there. The other slips under my tank and skims the length of my belly.
I want him, too, but I know I have to stop this. My head is fuzzy from the alcohol, but I know that we can’t do this. He’s my boss. Freeing my leg from his grasp, I plant both feet firmly on the floor, place my hands on his chest and push.
He immediately stops and steps back. My eyes follow his hands as he runs his fingers through his hair. He watches me intently with a look of . . . longing in his eyes? Before I can decipher it, he runs his hands over his face and exhales. Dropping his hands, he reaches for mine, laces our fingers together and leads me back to our friends.
Chapter 18
Kacen
The guys and I are killing this new album. We’ve been focused and the results are kickass. Gavin says it’s Logan, that her cooking inspires us. Although I don’t buy into his line of bullshit, I can agree that I like having her here.
It took us a week or so to find our groove. I can’t say that it’s any easier being around her. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about what it felt like to be inside of her. Each day, I follow up the memory with a reminder that she works for me and I can’t touch.
The fucking struggle is real.
Last night is a vivid memory. I was ready to fire her if that’s what it took. I know for sure this would not be the first employer/employee relationship to turn into more. I’ve never wanted another woman like I want her. I’m beginning to wonder why I’ve vowed to never touch her again. When I say wonder, what I mean is obsess. I’m a fucking train wreck waiting to happen with this girl. Yet, I continue to keep things as professional as possible. I find myself biting my tongue when I want to tell her how fucking hot she is, or when she’s dancing around in the kitchen, I fight with myself to keep from telling her how fucking adorable she is.
That’s the thing with Logan. She’s the full package. She can be hot as hell, turning me to granite with just a simple look, and then adorable, causing me to want to pull her into my arms and just . . . snuggle her. Like I said, train wreck waiting to happen.
I open the shower door and hear my cell phone ringing. I quickly grab a towel and tie it around my waist. Snagging another and running it over my hair, I make my way into the bedroom for my phone. As soon as I have it in my hands, it stops ringing. I watch the screen, waiting for the missed call notification to appear.
Logan.
I swipe the screen and immediately call her back. Please don’t let her be calling to quit. I know that I crossed a line last night, but I just . . . I had to kiss her.
“Kacen, I’m sorry, did you get my message?” she says. I can hear the frustration in her voice.
“No, I just missed you. I was in the shower. I didn’t bother to listen. I just saw that I missed you and called you back. What’s wrong?”
She releases a heavy sigh. “My stupid car is making some kind of grinding noise. I’m going to be late. I’m sorry.”
“Logan, it’s fine. What’s wrong with your car?” That thing is old and I worry about her driving it. Of course, I bite my tongue. As her employer, it’s not my place.
“No idea. I’m going to call a cab, so I don’t really know how long before I get there.”
“I can come and get you,” I offer.
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t. I offered. Besides, I can take a look at your car while I’m there, and we can get it towed to the shop for repair. In the meantime, you can borrow one of mine until it’s fixed.”
“Thank you for the offer, but—”
I cut her off. “Logan, you use your car to run errands for me and the guys all the time. Really, text me your address, and as soon as I get dressed, I’ll be on my way.”
I hang up, not giving her the chance to argue with me. Within five minutes, I’m dressed and out the door.
I pull into her apartment complex and spot her car. Luckily, the spot next to her is open, so I pull in and turn off the engine.
I find her apartment with no trouble and knock on the door. I hear footsteps and then the sound of her turning the locks. “Hi.”
“Hey, did you even check to see if it was me?” I ask her.
“Yes, I did.” She points to the peephole. I nod, letting her know I approve.
“Come on in.” She steps back from the door, allowing me room to get past her. “I made a fresh pot of coffee, since I know you came straight here from your shower.”
“You’re too good to me,” I tell her. I’m not just blowing smoke up her ass; she truly is amazing. I’m shocked after last night that she’s being this nice. Then again, this is Logan. I’m too much of a chicken shit to bring it up. I don’t want to hear her tell me that it’s never going to happen. I can still taste her. It’s all too soon for that conversation. I hope that it doesn’t come up.
“Oh, go on,” she teases.
I take in the little apartment that she shares with her best friend, Stacy, who was Lynn in Hawaii. I chuckle at the thought that we all used our middle names.
“Here you go.” She hands me a steaming cup of coffee just as there is a knock at the door.
“Huh, I wonder who that could be?” she says, walking toward the door.
“Did you forget to cancel the cab?” I ask.
“No, I hadn’t called yet.”
I watch her stand on her tiptoes and peer through the peephole. “Shit!” she whispers as her feet relax back against the floor.
“What’s wrong?”
“Uh, nothing, it’s just Daniel.”
“Daniel? The ex-douchebag?”
“That would be the one. Let me get rid of him.”
She takes a deep breath and opens the door just a crack. “Daniel, what are you doing here?” she asks him.