Oh God, he was like the devil tempting her. She took a deep breath. “I’ll be down in five.”
She ended the call before he could say anything else. Grabbing a pair of jeans out of the wardrobe, she pulled them on over her pajama bottoms, added a zip up sweatshirt over her camisole, shoved her feet into flip-flops and was ready to go. She ran her hands through her hair but didn’t bother with any other preparations.
After closing her bedroom door gently behind her, she tiptoed down the stairs. Everything in the house was silent. She snatched her keys from the sideboard and was about to open the door when a voice spoke from the top of the stairs. “And where are you going at this time of night, Abigail Parker?”
She stopped stock still. Her mother stood at the top of the stairs, wrapped in a dressing gown, hands on her hips.
“I…er… Oh God.” She couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
Her mum raised an eyebrow. “Well, just practice safe sex…this time.” And she was gone.
Abby considered heading back to bed and hiding her heated face under the pillow, but Logan would no doubt beep until the whole neighborhood was awake. She let herself out of the house and headed down the drive and through the gate. The passenger door to the truck was open and without giving herself time to rethink the decision, she hauled herself inside and plonked herself down on the leather seat.
“Nice truck,” she muttered, giving Logan a quick sideways peek. He’d changed into faded jeans that clung to his long legs and lean hips and a white T-shirt. He appeared big in the confines of the cab, filling the space. His hair was loose around his shoulders and disheveled as though he’d run his hands through it. Her fingers itched for her to do the same.
“It was my ride before I went inside,” he said, switching on the engine. He glanced at her and gave her a quick grin. “More than a few of those fantasies of mine actually took place in this very truck.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. So did I wake you up?” he asked pulling out onto the empty road.
“No.” She shifted on the seat as she remembered what she’d been doing when he’d called. She cleared her throat. “I couldn’t sleep. I was…”
“You were what?” Another quick glance. “Did you know you’re blushing?”
“No, I’m not. And where are we going?”
“Somewhere quiet. I didn’t think you’d want to make out in front of your house.”
“God, no.” She could imagine her mum peering out from behind the curtains. And was that what he was here for? To make out? It made them sound like naughty teenagers sneaking off. It also made her hot and wet, everything tingling. She pressed her thighs together to try and alleviate the sensation but it just intensified. “Is that what we’re going to do? Make out?”
“Hell, yeah.” Logan rested one hand on the leg nearest him, steering with the other. Sliding it up her denim clad thigh, he pressed his fingers into the apex between her legs, pushed upward, and the tingles turned to sparks. How could he do this to her so easily, with just the simplest of touches?
Finally, he turned the truck into an alley off a quiet residential road, pulled up, removed his hand, and switched off the headlights and the engine. He sat back for a moment, staring straight ahead, then twisted in his seat so he was facing her, his expression serious. “So, what were you doing when I called?”
“Nothing…thinking.”
“Thinking about me?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“Okay maybe a little bit.” Like his mouth and hands.
His heated gaze played over her in the dim light, finally returning to her face. “You’re blushing again. Tell me what you were really doing.”
No way.
“Come on, Abby. I told you. Turnabout’s fair.” When she still didn’t speak, he swiped his tongue over his lower lip. “How about I help you out? Were you touching yourself? Did you get all hot and wet thinking about me?”
She gave a quick nod.
“See that was easy. Was your hand between your legs when I called? Were those naughty fingers of yours in your wet pussy?”
She nodded again.
“Shit, that’s fucking hot. Did you get yourself off?”
She shook her head. “You interrupted me.”
“Good. When you come, I want to be the one calling the shots.” He reached out and trailed his hand down over her cheek. “So you’re feeling pretty needy right now?”
She was going to explode with embarrassment. “Can we not talk about this?”
He grinned but nodded. “I guess we have better things to do. So this next fantasy—you’re the secretary again—and you’ve fallen even harder for me, so you help me escape.”