Because as it was right now, I felt high and drunk, floating yet falling. It pulled me in so many directions I didn’t know what was up from down. This certainly wasn’t normal, and we only had this one date… the one he won.
But, God, I wanted this to last a lifetime.
The wind picked up, causing my hair to flutter around my face. I didn’t bother pushing the strands away and instead watched him still. He had his hand in mine, and although it was such an innocent touch, one he’d done to help me down the stairs so I couldn’t fall, it felt like so much more to me.
And then he glanced at me, and I felt my step falter before I quickly righted myself, before I felt him pull me in a little closer to steady me. The intensity in his gaze sent a chill up my spine. Logan Mathis was so large and powerful, with wide shoulders and muscles I could see clearly pronounced through the expensive material of his suit. I thought about the car ride here, how his form seemed to dwarf the interior of the limo. Yeah, he’d gone and picked me up in a limo, as if I were Cinderella.
I was far from it.
He helped me into the limo, the driver holding the door open for us, not speaking, almost appearing like a statue. I would never know or even understand this kind of lifestyle. I didn’t come from money, didn’t have wealth. I was just a simple girl living in the city, being raised by a single mother who worked her ass off to keep us afloat, but never really tasting life because it was about surviving, not the frivolous things.
But I knew Logan had traveled the world, had amassed a fortune and a successful business in his mere thirty-six years. I admired him, not because of that wealth, but because I could see it hadn’t gone to his head.
And underneath the façade of having it all together, of the prim and proper wordage he used, the almost stiff composure and business-like aura he had, I saw this sadness that resided deep within him.
I moved all the way to the other end of the limo and watched as Logan climbed in. His body barely fit in the confines of the car, and his long legs, stretched out in front of him and slightly spread, showing just how muscular he was. He shifted enough so he could remove his suit jacket then draped it on the seat beside him. I didn’t want this night to end. I didn’t want my time with Logan to be over already. But we were out of time. Our night was finished, his charity obligation over.
I don’t know why that had this pang of distress settling in my chest.
Logan rolled up his shirtsleeves, the white material pushed up to show his muscular, tanned forearms. He appeared relaxed and in control as he stared out the window. The car started moving, and I knew I was being taken home.
This wild, insane image came to my mind, one that had me acting totally out of character, had me just throwing caution to the wind and going after what I wanted.
And that was Logan.
I’d never even thought about being so wanton, but God, staring at him just sitting there, his body so masculine, had every part of me lighting up. I was aroused, wet between my legs, my nipples hard and pressing against the material of my very simple dress. Compared to him, I was as plain as they came, probably reminiscent of his help.
And then, as if he felt my gaze locked on him, he turned his focus to me. I didn’t miss how his eyes became hooded, or the fact that he lowered his attention to my lips. I licked them again on instinct. I had a good half-hour before we arrived at my apartment. A lot could happen in thirty minutes if I was brave enough. Because the truth was, I doubted Logan would advance anything. I doubted he’d make the first move. Even if he wanted me, which I hoped he did because of the looks I caught him giving me, he seemed like a man in control. Always.
And if the looks he’d been giving me were nothing more than my overactive imagination, my inner needs and desires being projected, then the worst that could happen is a moment of humiliation. I’d never have to see him again. I probably wouldn’t no matter what.
But I found myself averting my gaze and staring out the opposite window, too nervous to be so wild and bold. My hands shook, and I clasped them together on top of my lap, trying to still them. I was too inexperienced to try anything like this, to want anything like this. And as the seconds moved by, as I still felt his gaze on mine like a thousand fingers skating over my body, I remembered seeing him from across the room at the auction. The sensation had been the same, so pronounced it left me breathless, just like right now.
“Beatrix,” he said my name deep, low. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe, telling myself not to let the simple act of him saying my name make me come unhinged. “Look at me, Beatrix.” His voice possessed a rough timbre that had my nipples tightening even more. There was no way I could disobey him.
I slowly looked at him, trying to calm my breathing, but with each passing second, my desire became stronger, taking control of me.
“Mr. Mathis?” I said softly, trying to be formal, hoping it would ease some of these wild, inappropriate thoughts in my head. This is a business agreement, an arrangement. Nothing more.
“Mr. Mathis was my father,” he replied, his stare so hard, so dark, I felt it to my core. “Call me, Logan, Beatrix.”
I liked the way our names sounded right next to each other.
I’m crazy. I’ve gone insane.
I nodded. “Okay. Logan.” I swore I heard this low, deep sound leave him, but at the same time, the city right outside the limo was frantic, cars honking, motorcycles revving by us. Maybe I imagined the noise leaving him?
“Did you enjoy tonight?”
I nodded right away then promptly licked my lips. He lowered his gaze to watch the act. “I did. Thank you, and thank you for helping with the charity.” I didn’t even touch on the fact that he’d spent a small fortune to have dinner with little old me, a nobody from nowhere. Compared to the women he was probably used to seeing and socializing with, I was as ordinary as they came. But he didn’t look at me like I was nothing. He looked at me with this heated, almost obsessed expression covering his face.
“I would have paid a lot more for your company, Beatrix.”
My heart stopped then restarted, and I felt it jump to my throat.
We didn’t say anything else, just stared at each other, the little bumps and sways from the car almost lulling, relaxing. But nothing would make me feel a semblance of calm when Logan watched me the way he was right now.
Heated.
Intense.
Needy.
I felt intoxicated, like I couldn’t breathe. I swore the interior of the car became hotter. I felt that alcohol move through my veins, the buzz I’d felt in the restaurant that had made me Chatty Kathy dwindling so it was now this hum in me, this pleasurable, consuming hum that encompassed every inch of me.
I just wanted to move closer to him, to feel him touch me, stroke those big fingers along my body. I opened my mouth, but I didn’t know what I planned on saying. Beg for him? Ask him to end this erotic torture I felt? Hell, I was so desperate, so pathetic in this moment that I didn’t even care if this was only a one-night thing with Logan. I just wanted him.
I shifted on the seat, but my body stilled when he made this low growl in his throat. Yeah, I’d heard him clearly that time.
“Come here, Beatrix. Come closer.” The way he said those words had a fire started between my thighs, scorching heat, this electrical charge making me feel wild and untamed.