Auctioned to the Bad Boy CEO

With that he turned and walked away. Before her hormones had stopped sighing, he’d disappeared, and Hannah did the only thing she could do to save face among the curious glances she was attracting. She turned back to the ballroom. While he’d said she was off the clock, this was her baby, and she would see this through. She didn’t trust Monique as far she could throw her, and as the other woman was more than likely going to be fired come Monday morning, there was even more likelihood that she was going to do something else to sabotage the event.

Then again, after her brush off maybe Hannah would find herself out of a job. Even as she thought that she dismissed the idea. Logan had a reputation for being ruthless, but never unfair, and he didn’t usually get involved with someone at work. He didn’t get involved, period, had spelled his terms out for her most succinctly in fact, so why was she hesitating?

If he could turn her on this much by simply talking about sex, what would the real thing be like? Fun, he’d said, and she had no reason to disbelieve him. It hadn’t been said with any of the usual swagger men put behind such statements. No, he’d simply informed her as though he was telling her what the weather was like. As for his threat to spank her ass… Jeez, if she got any wetter she’d leave a stain on her dress, and she had her answer. No wonder she felt so drawn to him. The dratted man was a walking, talking, advert for every one of her sexual fantasies.

Hannah made a beeline for the ladies’ room to freshen up and compose herself, and the flushed woman who stared back at her in the mirror … was that really her? Good grief, if she got this worked up just by hearing him talk about the things he wanted to do to her, she would never survive an actual sexual encounter.

With a sigh, Hannah glanced at the key card she’d shoved in her clutch bag. He would appear to be staying in one of the river view suites. Of course, he was. While she’d booked many of Premiere Events’ rich clientele into such accommodations, she’d never stayed in one. Not that she would be staying now. This was, in effect, just a one-night stand. No strings attached sex with a man who set her pulse askew with just one glance. Would she even be debating this with herself were Logan not her boss?

****

Logan shrugged out of his jacket, flung off his tie, and threw both items across the living area of his suite. It was tempting to send the tray of champagne, strawberries, and hors d'oeuvres the same way. How satisfying would it be to see the bottle smash against the wall, disfiguring the fine work of art on display there. That painting mocked him with its display of light and hope for the future depicted by the couple walking hand in hand towards the sunset. Who did shit like that in real life anyway? So-called love never lasted.

He poured himself a generous measure of Macallan 21-year-old, malt whisky, and stared out at the unparalleled view of London’s skyline this suite afforded, while he dow

ned the liquid in one go. The burn down his throat proved a welcome distraction from the dark mood Rosamunde’s phone call had placed him in. What did a man have to do to get decent help these days? References meant diddly squat it seemed, and while he was more than aware how difficult the situation at home was, he sure as fuck didn’t need constant reminders.

What he needed was curvy little Hannah under him, so that he could lose himself in her sighs and moans while he tortured her with pleasure. Thoughts like that were not helping his current state one iota. While his hard-on had considerably lessened during that fraught telephone call, just picturing Hannah in that sinful dress brought his cock back to full speed in record time. So not what he needed, especially as it was getting damn obvious that she wasn’t coming. The auctions ought to be finished by now, and even if she had gone back in the ballroom to oversee—and knowing her work ethic that was no doubt what she had done—she ought to have knocked on his door by now.

Face it, Logan, you’re losing your touch.

Logan scowled at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, while he rubbed his dick in an effort to get some relief. There was only one thing for it. With Hannah being a no show and his having no appetite to go cruising for anyone else to keep him company tonight—he wanted the curvy blonde, damn it—he’d have to take matters in his own hands. Logan turned the rainfall shower on, stripped off his clothes, and stepped into the walk-in enclosure. Making good use of the complimentary shower gel, he slicked his hands, grasped his rock-hard dick and pumped. Not enough, not by any means. Eyes closed against the hot spray, he fisted himself harder, faster, and bit back a grunt. In his mind’s eye, it was Hannah he saw, on her knees in front of him, her long blonde tresses darkening under the water, her dress appearing transparent as her lush lips wrapped around his shaft. Yeah, much better.

“That’s my girl, suck me good.” Logan grumbled the command out loud, and fantasy Hannah hollowed out her cheeks and sucked hard. Pleasure surged through him, hot, hard, immediate, and he grunted his approval as he splayed his fingers and alternated the pressure on his dick. It wasn’t his fingers he saw behind his closed lids, but Hannah’s. So real was his fantasy that he heard her soft gasps and moans as she fondled his balls, and worked the base of his shaft while her head bobbed up and down on his dick. With one hand braced against the tiled wall, he chased the orgasm that was fast building at the base of his spine, until the clang of metal forced his eyes open.

Through the haze of steam fogging up the enclosure a shadowy outline, looking remarkably like his fantasy, watched him. Logan groaned, slid the door open, and stared right into Hannah’s wide eyes.

Well, fuck.

“Should I leave you two alone?” Hannah pointedly looked from his cock—still enclosed in his fist—to his face and back again. The sassy comeback would have worked, were it not for the breathy quality of her voice and the flush which stained her pale skin. How long had she been standing there, watching him? It was beyond tempting to simply carry on, but now that she was here, he wouldn’t have to pretend anymore.

Hannah attempted to pick up the towel rail, which had fallen to the marble floor, and had no doubt been the noise which had alerted him to her presence. He smirked when she promptly dropped it again. The resounding clang echoed around the bathroom, and Hannah took several steps back until the wall stopped her.

“Damn it, I just … fuck.”

The softly delivered curse meant his cock, which had somewhat deflated at the interruption, surged back to life in his hand, and he turned off the shower with a grin. He didn’t bother to cover up—she’d seen it all already—and stalked toward her. Besides, he was rather enjoying the way she was eating him alive with her eyes. The wet footprints he was leaving behind would be dealt with by housekeeping.

“Has your mother not taught you to knock on doors, little dove?”

He slapped both hands on the wall next to her face, as he growled those words, and Hannah flinched. Something akin to regret, almost pain, flashed over her expressive face before she narrowed her eyes and did her best to glare up at him.

“I did knock.”

Logan smiled and raised an eyebrow.

“Really?” He dropped his voice on purpose to rattle her a bit more, and sure enough she rose to the bait.

“Yes, really, it’s hardly my fault you didn’t hear me because you were…” The most endearing blush stained her pale skin, as she seemed to struggle for the right words.

“Because I was what, little dove? Don’t be shy now, tell me what you’re thinking.”

Hannah made the cutest sound at the back of her throat, something between a growl and an exasperated huff, and rolled her eyes.

“Because you were too busy playing slap the donkey with your schlong.”

“Schlong?” Logan didn’t know whether to be amused or offended at having his cock referred to thus.

“Yes, what would you call that?”