Chapter 7
“How are things?” Geordie asked when Logan entered the office.
“Don’t ask,” Logan sighed. “I’m trying to be patient.”
Geordie chuckled. “You’re also wearing the wrong color socks,” Geordie said as Logan walked away from his desk.
Stopping, Logan looked down and groaned. He had put on black pants and a pair of beige socks. “Fuck. I kind of got dressed in the dark this morning," he said. "I think I have a spare, dark pair in my office."
“Living with someone can be hard, especially at the start,” Geordie chuckled.
“You're lucky; you don't have makeup and clothes all over the place. She is basically a slob.”
“Maybe not like that, but there’s always something. I’m not a slob, but I’m not a clean freak either. Trevor is pretty anal; he insists everything is in its place – alphabetically sometimes. Drives me crazy. Like the cutlery drawer. First the forks, then knives, then tablespoons, then teaspoons. When he moved in, he reorganized everything. I’ve gotten used to it now because I just love him to bits.”
“I guess it’s different for everyone. I better go look for my socks.”
“If you can’t find them, let me know. I’ll run down the street to Spago's and buy you a pair,” Geordie said, still chuckling.
Going through the messages that Geordie had given him, Logan sat down and looked at one more carefully. Chelsea MacDuff. Where had he heard that name before? Finding his socks, he put them on, stuffing the beige ones in his drawer before he picked up the phone. Dialing her number, he waited, letting it ring several times only to have it go to voicemail.
Hi, I can’t take your call. Leave me a message, and I'll get back at ya as soon as I can.
Logan left a message and hung up. He loved the Scottish accent and could to a pretty good imitation of a drunk Scotsman when he had a few too many drinks.
MacDuff, why did that name ring a bell?
His phone buzzed; it was Chelsea returning his call. She was fast, that was for sure.
“Logan Darlington, how can I help you?”
“Hello, Mr. Darlington. My name is Chelsea MacDuff, and I was hoping to ask you a few questions if it isn't too much bother?” Chelsea said at the other end.
“Not at all,” Logan said. “What did you want to ask?”
"The selling of my Dad's property. I don't know if you’ve heard of it. MacDuff Estates over on fourth line,” Chelsea answered.
“Of course, the big castle house. That’s why your name was familiar to me. The MacDuff Estates. So, you are selling?”
“Well, I’m thinking of it. I’d like to ask you a few questions first.”
“Ask away,” Logan said, sitting back in his chair. He could listen to her talk all day. Although she didn’t have a thick accent, there was a hint of the Scottish brogue in her speech.
“How do I know if I have to fix anything in the house?” Chelsea asked.
"Well, when we first meet, I'll take a tour of the house, and we can go over everything. After that, we can sit down to discuss prices and dates. It will be completely up to you,” Logan said. He didn’t know why, but he was intrigued by Chelsea MacDuff and already had a vision in his head of what she looked like.
"I'm still not sure, so I appreciate you not pressuring me.”
“Understandable. I never pressure my clients. I am working for you, not against you."
“Okay then, I’m still undecided but leaning towards selling,” Chelsea trying not to sound too indecisive.
“May I ask why you are selling?”
“My Da recently died leaving me the castle, and it's just too big for me to keep up, plus financially I can’t do it. I hate to do it, but it has to be done.”
“I see. Well, take your time to decide. You have my number, and if you want to discuss it further, we can meet for lunch or something and talk about it. Sometimes in a relaxed atmosphere, we tend to think clearer.”
“Aye. Well, I thank you for your time, Mr. Darlington. I'll be in touch," Chelsea said, then hung up, leaving Logan sitting at his desk staring off into space.
Who was this, Chelsea MacDuff? He quickly googled the name. He found articles about Charles MacDuff building his castle and the story behind and became more intrigued. He came across a picture of Charles and Olivia MacDuff with their daughter Chelsea in front of the half-finished castle. Chelsea looked like she was about twelve, but he couldn’t find any recent pictures.
He really hoped she got back in touch with him, mainly because he wanted to see the girl behind the cute Scottish accent.
✽✽✽
“What’s up with you tonight?” Vanessa said, climbing onto Logan and straddling his lap. “You seem preoccupied.”
Logan put down his phone and looked up at Vanessa, placing his hands on her hips. “I’m fine. Just a lot going on at work. Weren’t you going to the gym or something?”
She nibbled on Logan’s ear, then let her lips travel to his and parted his lips with her tongue. The feeling of her body pressing against his excited him, and he closed his eyes, letting his mind clear so he could concentrate on making love to Vanessa.
“I told you living together would be fun,” Vanessa purred as she sat up and whipped off her top, exposing her breasts. Running her hands over them, she looked seductively at Logan.
“Like what you see?” she purred as she knelt down on the floor and started to undo his pants.
Logan wasn’t really in the mood, but he never turned down a blow job.
He laid his head back against the couch, feeling the warmth of Vanessa’s lips. She knew how to drive him crazy, and she teased him with her mouth and tongue.
When he was rock hard, Vanessa stood up and quickly undid her jeans, pushing them and her panties down over her hips and to the floor, kicking them aside.
“Time to go for a ride,” she whispered as she stood before Logan, letting her hands roam over her body before straddling his lap again. Reaching down, she guided him inside her and started to move slowly up and down on his rod, enjoying the feeling of him deep inside her.
Logan tried to free his mind from his thoughts and focus on Vanessa, but thoughts of Chelsea MacDuff kept invading his brain.
Grabbing Vanessa by the hips, he moved her faster and faster against him. He wanted to finish quickly as he thrust harder.
“Logan, what’s your hurry?" Vanessa protested, trying to slow him down. “Logan. Relax …”
Logan groaned as he felt himself climax, giving one final thrust.
“Fuck Logan, what is wrong with you?” Vanessa said as she climbed off his lap. “You just ruined it.”
Logan looked at her and shook his head. “Sorry, you just got me so turned on.”
“Bullshit, your mind was definitely somewhere else,” she snapped, grabbing her clothes.
Never one to leave a woman unsatisfied, Logan looked up at Vanessa and patted the couch beside him. “Come sit down, baby, I’ll satisfy you.”
Vanessa glared at him. “Don’t bother. I’m going up to have a bath. I’ll sort myself out,” Vanessa growled.