Her spine seemed to straighten in pride. “It says, ‘The finest things life has to offer.’”
“Well, Elle,” I glanced to the sign and back to her, “Sterling, I have to assume, show me the finest things life has to offer.”
She threw me a small smile and instantly, the mood had lightened. “You assume correct, Logan McPherson.”
I liked the way she said my name. I wanted to ask her to say it again and then wanted to punch myself for thinking that.
Lame.
What was I—twelve?
And a girl?
When she reached behind me and grabbed her hat, I just shook my head.
That red hat.
It was late, and everything was closed, the street empty. Still, I moved fast, but funny, she moved even faster. As soon as I’d opened her door, she bolted around the car to a small overhang just next to the sign. She fumbled for her keys and I squeezed under the overhang behind her. I was close. Really close. Close enough that I could feel the curves of her body brushing against mine.
I couldn’t help but be turned on.
I peered over her shoulder like she might need help, in an attempt to move even closer. It was a dick move and even though I knew it was, I couldn’t help myself. It was a case of body taking over mind. Mentally slapping myself, I glanced down and noticed her hands were shaking and that she couldn’t get the key in the lock.
“Here, let me.” I could be a gentleman.
Elle turned her head and her warm breath gusted across my neck. That’s how close she was. She turned back but didn’t hand me the key, so I reached out with my hand and covered hers as I guided her fingers toward the lock. With my hand squeezing hers, I turned the key and as I did, an overwhelming desire to take her right there overwhelmed me.
The door opened but I didn’t step back.
She didn’t step forward, either.
We both stood there, our bodies aligned in such a way that it would be hard to argue that we didn’t want each other.
It would be harder to argue that we weren’t going to fuck.
ELLE
“Is that you, Elle?” a voice called.
With his hard body pressed against mine, and arousal flooding me in a way it never had, her voice took a moment to register. But when it did, my eyes flew open. “Peyton, where are you?”
“I’m just coming upstairs,” she called.
I was surprised she had even heard us. When anyone was downstairs it was impossible to hear anything upstairs. Peyton swore the place had been a bomb shelter at one time.
I stepped inside and the heat of Logan’s body wasn’t far behind. “Why are you still here? You said you were leaving with Rachel hours ago.”
Her heels clacked against the wood of the steps. “More merchandise arrived just as we were locking up. I sent Rachel home but decided to stay.”
“The De Bolivar soaps? I told you to call me when they arrived.”
Her crown of out-of-control shiny brown curls peeked through the banister of the open staircase. “No,” she laughed, “and I don’t know why some soap made with South American olive oil interests you so much, but what arrived is so much better. Check these out. I don’t know which one I prefer. Maybe you can help me decide.” She emerged from the stairs proudly holding a diamond ring dildo in one hand and a platinum vibrator encrusted in emeralds in the other.
My cheeks felt flush immediately. Hers turned even brighter red when she spotted Logan standing beside me. I looked at him, and the smirk on his face that said so much more than I wanted to know right now.
Surprised I wasn’t alone, Peyton quickly put the dildo behind her back. “Maybe you don’t need this one.”
“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” Logan said half a moment later.
She pulled it back around to hold it in front of her, high in the air. Her shirt lifted and the colorful tail of a peacock peeked from under its hem. She had a few tattoos; I had thought about getting one once of a dandelion but never did.
Admiring her display, she remarked, “It is pretty big.”
My mouth dropped to the floor when Peyton did a double take like she was sizing it up and comparing it to Logan.
Logan didn’t miss the suggestion. “Yeah, although I’d like to say I’m bigger, I don’t think I can.”
We all burst out in laughter.
Shaking my head, I said, “Peyton, this is Logan. Logan, this is Peyton, my assistant.”
“And best friend,” she added while her eyes scanned Logan curiously.
I could tell she thought I’d been holding out, and it almost made me laugh. “Logan and I just met at Michael’s office. I had a flat tire and he offered to drive me here.”
Suspicion loomed deep in her eyes, but still she set the items on the nearest table and offered her hand. “Nice to meet you, Logan.”
“Nice to meet you too, Peyton,” he said, rather charmingly I might add.
They shook hands, and then she picked the vibrator and dildo back up. “I was just leaving. Do you want these in the case or do you want to wait for the,” she paused and looked at Logan, “other items to arrive?” She was almost giggling.