His expression is blank and rigid. His brown eyes are flat. Dull.
“Their look will seem unnatural . . . off,” he’d said. “Any time someone has to put effort into their words, you can bet what they’re saying is a steaming crock of shit,” he’d told me.
And slowly, I smile.
“You’re lying.”
SHE’S TRYING TO KILL ME.
With her words, her looks, her innocent touches—brushes of her arm and hip as she passes me—and with the tiny, tempting outfit she’s wearing today. Bloody Christ—my head’s a mess. Has been a mess since she smiled at me in the car last night, a smile that was confident and sure, as she called me a liar. Even when I denied it, Ellie wasn’t having it.
“You are so lying right now—holy shit!”
My voice is cold, harsh—for both our sakes.
“Ellie, I don’t feel—”
“Do you like me, Logan?”
I swallow hard. “Not like that, no.”
“That’s a lie too!” she squeaks, completely delighted. “It’s like a superpower! Is this how it feels to be you?”
Ellie lifts her hand towards my chest and I jump back in the small confines of the vehicle as if her hand is on fire. Bad move.
“Are you scared, Logan?”
Fucking terrified. Of a girl. A small, seductive, beautiful girl who could wreck me.
“I don’t get scared.”
“I scare you. With the family you grew up in, it’s understandable. This thing between us—”
“There’s nothing between us, Ellie.”
She waves her hand dismissively. “Of course there’s something between us.” Then she leans closer and lowers her voice. Changing tactics. “Do you want to kiss me, Logan?”
And just the words, the mere suggestion, brings such scorching images to my brain—of the magnificence of what kissing sweet Ellie could be—sucking lips, nipping teeth and wet, searching tongues.
I sound like a man being tortured, because I am—in the truest sense of the word.
“No.”
Ellie wets her lips and her chest heaves, bringing her breasts nearer—I would just have to lower my head just an inch to taste her.
“Liar,” she whispers.
And I growl. “Ellie . . . fuck.”
“Yeah, we’ll get to that.” She smiles, so damn cute I want to kiss the hell out of her, then turn her over my knee, lift her dress, spank her then kiss her there too.
I press my fists into my eyes, trying to force the thoughts out. Trying to regain control of the situation.
“Ellie . . .,” I point towards the palace. “Go to your room.”
Pathetic.
Her eyes sparkle. “Do you want to come with me?”
Hell, yes.
“I don’t.”
Her blue gaze gentles, gliding over my face, before turning to stare out the front window with a sigh. Then, by some miracle, Ellie steps out of the car.
But before closing the door she leaves me with one giddy parting reply.
“That’s a lie too.”
After Ellie was safely inside the palace, I went back to my house—and found no peace.
Because she was there—I could smell her, as if she’d infused the walls with her orange-blossom scent—I could see her in every room, as if she’d left her spirit behind. I heard her words in my head—the most perfect words she’d ever spoken to me.
I want you so much . . .
When I touch myself . . .
And then I did the same. Fisted my cock and imagined it was her delicate hand on my hot flesh. I thrashed on that mattress, jerked myself off hard and fast, and when I came, my back arched and it was her name that tore from me, echoed off my empty walls.
Still, I couldn’t sleep. I jerked off again, slower the second time, drawing it out, picturing her lithe body skimming down my torso—all the things she’d do to me if I let her. All the things she’d let me do to her. Eagerly. Filthy, dark, offensive things—the places I’d fuck her, all the spots she’d let me come—in her mouth, on her tits, in her hair, on her arse, buried deep in her tight, hot pussy.
It’s as though the floodgates have opened and all the desire I’ve had for her, all the thoughts I’ve kept at bay, are now raging free and out of control. It would be so easy to give in. So bloody fantastic—I ache with how good it would be.
But then I ache for a different reason.
Because I would lose everything. All that I’ve built through the years—my duty, my noble calling. It’s all I have. The lads on the team, the royals—they’re the only family I’ve got. And if I cross that line with Ellie, set one toe over it, it’s gone. Up in smoke. No going back, not after that.
Fuck me.
I thought about calling in sick for my shift, just to avoid the unholy temptation. But it seemed cowardly.
So now I’m here, in the late afternoon, at The Horny Goat, watching Ellie sing and dance onstage—doing everything she can to break my resistance. To tempt me, tease me, bloody mesmerize me.
And it’s working.
I should have been a fucking coward.
“Ellie’s really belting them out, huh?” Tommy says.
That she is. She’s been through a whole playlist of meaningful songs at the karaoke machine: “What About Love,” “Angel of the Morning,” “Silver Springs.”
I’m not an idiot. I know what she’s saying. Saying to me.
And now she starts a new song—“Piece of My Heart”. I watch her—can’t watch anything else. She really gets into it—closing her eyes and crooning like Janis fucking Joplin. Tugging her hair, shaking her arse.
And I’m hard. As stone.
All for Ellie.
She circles her pelvis, and I imagine gripping those slim hips and holding on while she rides me. Grinds her pussy right on my cock.
“Almost like she’s singing to someone.” Tommy nudges me.
I grunt.
And the tosser’s eyes practically twinkle. “Something you want to share with the class, Lo?”
“Nope.”
“Take it . . .” Ellie sings, like a needy plea.
And fuck me, the thought of her begging sweetly, on her back looking up at me with those big blue eyes, drives me straight to the edge. I actually take a step towards the bloody stage—I want to grab her, toss her over my shoulder and carry her cute arse out of there like a caveman. Like she belongs to me.
Instead I turn my back on the stage, eyeing the shiny bottles behind the bar. I’ve never been much of a drinker—but I could use about a dozen shots right now.
“I’m gonna take off. Check on things at that palace, then punch out early,” I tell Tommy.
And I don’t even feel bad about doing it. Because self-preservations kicks cowardice right in the balls.
Tommy nods, slow and knowing. “You do that. I’m on Ellie detail for the rest of the night. Run, Forrest, run.”
I flip him off.
And walk out the door, Ellie’s voice chasing after me as I go.