No, wait . . . his face remains the same.
Stupid champagne.
During my internal argument with my brain, Logan has closed the gap between us.
“The cameras have been following you all night,” Logan whispers courageously in my ear. “How will I get to prove my point?”
This is it. There is no cell between us to filter out the raging hormones. My body is betraying me, calling out like a desperate whore. My brain is slower to come to the party, chilling in a hot tub telling all the rational voices to sit down and have another drink.
“You know Karl? He’s easily distracted by good-looking men. Closet gay. When a model walks past him, he’ll forget I’m around. He chases dick like I chase chocolate.”
Logan is amused, shaking his head at my comment. “So, what happens if you want dick and chocolate?”
“I’ve never been in that predicament,” I answer smugly. “Why? You got chocolate on you?”
“Are you saying you want dick and chocolate right now?”
“How did we even get onto this?” I scratch my head, ignoring his cocky remark.
“Nice segue, Chase,” he says with a broad grin. “What about your other camerawoman?”
“Josie? She likes to talk. About her cats and her new boyfriend. He just moved in and told her that he never expected to be around so many pussies.”
I laugh instantly, remembering the moment Josie had innocently told us he said that. I swear she was a virgin because the joke flew over her head.
Logan tries to keep a straight face, until something changes
and his smile becomes a frown.
“And Wesley?”
“What does it matter?”
“He’s your fiancé,” he states, dragging the word fiancé like it fucking meant something.
“I told you. He isn’t,” I tell him for the millionth time. “You’ve got a choice Carrington—prove your point or go run off with Ash and score some Hollywood bimbo looking to put an athlete on their resume.”
He keeps his eye contact firm, then slowly, they move and trace my mouth. I couldn’t help but bite my bottom lip, attempting to control whatever the hell is happening between us right now. I’m semi-conscious that anyone could find us including Wesley. But deep down inside, that possibility only adds to the thrill.
“C’mon,” I push him. “What’s it gonna be?”
He places his finger on my lips, lingering, then runs it slowly down my body, against my skin and between my breasts. I’m certain he can feel the thump of my heart; almost bursting out of my chest from the nerves of being caught. He continues to move down, until his finger has grazed in between my legs causing me to suck in my breath.
“You,” he whispers with fire in his eyes. “I choose you.”
“The thrill of getting caught is a dangerous thing.”
~ Emerson Chase
He presses his finger hard against my clit, only the thin fabric between.
I’m still holding in that breath, scared if I let go, my legs will fail and I’ll drop to my knees which happen to be at eye level with his crotch.
Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.
“Emerson!” I hear my name being called, and like cold water thrown at us, Logan retracts his hands and shoves them in his pocket.
Scarlett turns the corner, looking rather flustered. “We need to talk.”