Best Man with Benefits

When the elevator opened on six she steamed out and strode past her room and straight on to Logan’s. She raised her fist to pound on the door, then hesitated when a little voice in the back of her head whispered, What if he’s in there with Regan and they’re…

They’re in for a rude interruption… She banged on the door, and had her fist poised to do it again when the door swung open. Logan grabbed her by the arms and hauled her into the room. Before she knew quite what had happened he’d slammed the door behind her and had her backed up against the hard surface. Her breath rushed out in a startled gust.

“Let go of me,” she said and tried to shove him away. He didn’t budge an inch, but the press of his body against hers set five-alarm fires in all her vulnerable zones. She had a quick mental flash of her wispy new panties disintegrating from the heat.

“Whose attention were you after in that dress, Sophie?” His voice held a note of something primitive she’d never heard before, and certain overstimulated intimate muscles fluttered in reaction.

“Why do you care?” She couldn’t help scanning for signs of Regan, but she saw no evidence of the statuesque brunette. “Seems like you were too busy with Regan to notice anyone else. Where is she? Don’t tell me she’s come and gone already. How disappointing.”

“Regan?” He looked confused for a moment, and then…he burst out laughing. The jerk. Mild-mannered, introverted Sophie officially left the building and stands-up-for-herself Sophie slugged him in the stomach.

She might as well have punched a wall. He barely flinched, but her hand wept from the impact with his unyielding abs. Following instinct, she brought her throbbing knuckles to her mouth.

He drew her fist away from her lips and kissed it. “Feel better?”

“No.” She yanked her hand back. The bastard had the nerve to grin at her. The little groove appeared beside his mouth and she had an uncharacteristic urge to slap it off his face.

“How about now?” He snuck his hand under her skirt and stroked her sex through the microscopic panties that offered no defense whatsoever.

Her whole body tensed at the contact. The power of speech fled. All she could do was cling to his shoulders and stare up at him helplessly while the wet sounds of his long fingers sliding in, out, and around her private parts like he owned them filled the otherwise silent room.

A low, appreciative groan rumbled from Logan’s throat. He dropped his head until his lips were next to her ear. “Now I know why you’re so cranky. This little scrap of underwear you’ve got on is soaked. Must be very…uncomfortable.”

She’d bite her tongue before confirming, although obviously, her body was giving him all the confirmation he needed. That scared her, realizing what little control she had over her reactions to him. She was mad, damn it. She shouldn’t be holding her legs open and grinding against his hand like a desperate woman unable to resist his touch.

“This sweet little spot needs some TLC. Here’s the deal, Soph. You admit it was me you thought about when you got dressed this evening, and I’ll kiss it better.”

Her eyes nearly crossed at the notion of his mouth replacing his hand. Her inner muscles issued their own answer. He must have felt the spasm because he whispered, “Should I take that as a yes?”

She pressed her lips together—her own pathetic version of defiance.

“Stubborn? I should warn you, I can be stubborn, too.” So saying, he removed his hand. She wanted to burst into tears at the instant and overwhelming feeling of deprivation. “Who were you thinking about tonight?” he repeated.

Pride forbade her from admitting she’d dressed for him and tried to turn herself into the kind of woman a man like him belonged with, because she’d failed so miserably he’d spent the entire time in the arms of another woman and barely spared her a second glance. She didn’t know what kind of game he was playing with her, but she wanted no part of it…except now he was kissing his way down her throat, and into the vee between her breasts, and she couldn’t find the willpower to tell him to stop.

Quick fingers latched onto the zipper at the back of her dress and tugged it down. “Who did you think of when you zipped yourself into this cock-tease of a dress?” Another tug sent the dress pooling at her feet.

Logan sucked in a breath. “Jesus, look at you,” he muttered, then grabbed her hips and hauled her up until their faces were level.

Braced between his unyielding body and the equally unyielding door, she automatically wrapped her legs around his waist. Trembles started somewhere in the vicinity of her knees and worked their way up—another involuntary physical reaction to all the temper and desire swirling inside her.

“Who’d you fantasize about when you picked out this lingerie?” He ran his finger along the lacy edge of one bra cup. Using his other hand, he toyed with the back clasp. “Who’d you visualize peeling it off? Unwrapping you like a gift…me?”

“No,” she lied.

“That’s too bad”—he abandoned the clasp—“since I’m the one who’s going to have the pleasure.” Then he lowered his head and used his tongue to tease her nipple into a tight point through the silk. “This bra hides nothing. Who’d you put it on for? Who were you imagining having these breasts pressed up against?” He scraped his teeth over the now-firm peak.

She couldn’t hold back a gasp, nor stop her fingers from spearing into his hair. But the gasp turned into a moan when he lifted her breasts until her nipples popped free of the cups. “Nobody. Don’t—”

Logan ignored her, and proceeded to torture her breasts. He licked. He bit. He used merciless suction to take each nipple deep into his mouth, sending a bolt of heat straight to her core. Then he raised his head and looked at what he’d done to her.

“The only chest you’re going to be pressed up against is mine.” So saying, he leaned in until his starched dress shirt scraped across her nipples. She sucked in a breath, barely managing not to beg out loud.

Her body pleaded with him in other ways. Her hips lifted and rocked, striving to use the ridge of his erection to alleviate the uncomfortable tension building inside her.

“No cheating.” He stepped back so her legs fell from his waist… She squeaked and clung to his shoulders to avoid falling to a heap at his feet, but he didn’t allow that to happen. He kept his hands at her waist and eased her down the door until her feet made contact with the floor. As soon as they did, he knelt before her and draped her leg over his shoulder. She stood there, propped against the door, balanced precariously on one high heel to try to stay upright.

She flattened her palms against the smooth wood. What she’d thought was too much before now became unbearable. Her heart pounded in her chest and an echoing pulse beat insistently between her thighs.

His lips brushed her navel. He pressed a hot, openmouthed kiss to the ticklish skin just above her panties, and then scraped his teeth along her quivering inner thigh. Her muscles gave out and, next thing she knew, both legs were draped over his shoulders, his big hands cradling her butt. “Who was going to make your knees so weak you couldn’t stand anymore?”

She tried to squirm away but he tightened his grip and held her still. With the tip of his tongue he traced one seam of her panties all the way to where it disappeared between her legs. “Who’d you envision doing this?”

She bit her lip to keep from confessing anything, but couldn’t hold back a low, edgy groan. Nor could she stop herself from bowing her back, lifting her hips and offering herself up to him. She ought to have been mortified by her behavior, but decency was losing a battle with desperation. She needed that mouth, and it hovered maddeningly close.

His tongue darted out and laved her through the thin silk. Her stomach muscles coiled painfully tight. She cried out and jerked away as if he’d branded her. But then the burn subsided, to be replaced by a low, persistent, unspeakably addictive heat, and she came rushing back for more.

He wouldn’t give her more. Instead he held her there, shaking and twitching and sensel

ess with longing. “Are you suffering?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Who’d you dress up for, Sophie? Say my name and I’ll take the ache away.”

Oh, God, she wasn’t going to be able to hold out. Pride…anger…everything inside her crumbled beneath the weight of her need. “Please, Logan.”

He tore the flimsy excuse for underwear away, leaving her completely exposed. “Tell me,” he ordered and lowered his head, as though fully expecting her to comply. His hair tickled the inside of her thigh. His breath feathered over her center and her pelvic muscles contracted again, seeking relief. She closed her eyes and whimpered.

“That’s a very nice reply, but not the right answer.”