He couldn’t believe he wanted her again already. He hadn’t been this randy since he was a teenager. But at the same time, he couldn’t deny a hint of curiosity. What the hell did they have to talk about?
He really hoped it wasn’t some sort of police business. That would totally piss him off. The clubs were clean. He was clean, and if she thought to try and prove anything else, she’d be sorry.
However much he wanted that blow job.
Finally, the phone rang. It was Mark on the door. “There’s a copper here to see you.”
So she’d turned up in uniform. He hoped that wasn’t a bad sign. “I’ll be right out.”
He pushed himself up and headed for the main door. It was open, but Mark barred the way. Abby stood behind him, impatience stamped on her face. “I’m not here to arrest him, just let me in.”
“We’re closed.”
“I’m not here to drink either. He’s expecting me.”
“Mark,” he said and the bouncer turned around. “It’s okay.” He tipped his chin to indicate the other man should leave them, and waited until he’d disappeared into the club.
Abby huffed, obviously annoyed at being kept on the doorstep. She was in uniform, crisp and neat, her hair in that bun thing, not a strand out of place, her hat clasped in her hand, flat black shoes gleaming on her feet. She could be posing for a fucking recruitment poster, she was so goddamned perfect. He had an overwhelming urge to mess her up.
“Is this a business call?” he asked.
She glanced down at herself and shrugged. “No. It’s my lunch break and I didn’t have time to change. In fact I don’t have much time at all so could we go inside. Please.”
He studied her for a moment longer, to piss her off. Her lips were slightly swollen from his kisses, and he had a sudden image of her on her knees, mouth open, his dick at the ready. “Come in.”
He stepped aside and gestured for her to enter, leading her through the huge, almost empty room. Some of the clubs opened during the day for lunch, but not this one. They were closed until eight that evening. A few people were around, cleaning, stocking up the bar, but the place was quiet.
He headed for his office opposite but halted when he realized she was no longer following him. He turned to find she’d stopped in the middle of the room.
Her glance flickered to the black door and back to him. “Could we stay out here? I really do need to talk to you.”
“And you can’t do that in my office? You think we might find something more interesting to do?”
She shuffled her feet. “Maybe.”
At least she was honest and wasn’t trying to deny the attraction between them. It occurred to him that maybe she thought the uniform might provide some sort of protection against him. He had told her that he hated coppers; perhaps she believed it would turn him off. In fact he found the whole idea of stripping her out of it a total turn on. And if he did persuade her into the blow job, she could keep the uniform on and put that sexy little hat on her head. He almost groaned at the image.
“Logan?”
It was the first time she’d called him by his name, and he liked it. Glancing around, he gestured to one of the booths situated on the edge of the room. He sat down, and she slid onto the leather seat opposite.
“You want a drink?” She looked like she needed a drink. Whatever it was she had to say, she wasn’t happy about it, and his curiosity grew.
“No.” Her tongue poked out, and she swiped her lower lip, leaving it glistening. He was pretty sure she wasn’t aware of the effect it was having on him. “I’m on duty.”
“How could I forget?”
She placed her hat on the table, straightened it, and rested her hands primly on her lap. For someone in a hurry she was sure taking her time about this.
“So,” he prompted.
She licked her lips again. If she really wanted to talk, she should stop doing that.
Finally, she took a deep breath. “You have a daughter.”
Chapter Six
For a second the words didn’t make sense, and Logan presumed he must have misheard.
She cleared her throat. “Actually, we have a daughter. Her name is Jennifer, and she’s ten and she would like to meet you.”
He went still as he studied her across the table, trying to unravel the words. He had a ten-year-old daughter. Was she fucking kidding?
When he didn’t speak, because he really couldn’t think of anything to say that would make any sense, she continued, talking fast, “I know this must be a shock.”
“You reckon?” He shook his head. “You expect me to believe that I have a ten-year-old daughter and all of a sudden you’ve decided I need to know. Excuse me if I’m a little skeptical.”