Chapter 9

Logan had picked up the phone to call Hope over the weekend because the passion she'd shown at the pub four nights ago intrigued him.

Not solely because of the alley sex, which had been beyond hot, but because he'd never seen a woman so into her work. She'd practically glowed when she talked about her music. This, after he'd watched her listen to that guitarist, transfixed, eyes wide, mouth open, like she couldn't get enough. He hadn't been lying when he'd told her it was a turn on. Seeing her so completely in the moment, after the sensational sex, ensured he'd been hard every time he thought about her, which had been too often over the weekend.

When they'd parted at the pub, he'd sensed her withdrawal. She'd been cool and aloof, shaking his hand after he walked her to her car. Shaking his fucking hand, like he was some inconsequential acquaintance. Considering the way she'd come onto him in the first place, then later shared all that stuff about her music, he'd expected more.

He'd got nothing.

After the way they hooked up, he'd expected her to call and when she didn't, he wanted to. He'd settled for a text instead, a brief

How are you?

She responded with a terse

Fine, see you Tuesday

That put him firmly back in his place.

It surprised him, her ability to have sex like a man. Then again, what did he really know about her? She'd been cool initially, had morphed to hot, then reverted to cool again. Maybe this was a game she played with all guys? More to the point, why did he care?

He had to be thinking with his dick. The sex had been phenomenal so he wanted more of it, stood to reason. But he couldn't ignore his insistent voice of reason that made him remember how much he'd enjoyed seeing her light up while listening to that dude in the pub, meaning she intrigued him beyond the sex.

Dawn streaked the Melbourne sky as he pulled up outside Hope and Harmony. His team were arriving at seven so he made sure he got here at six. Stepping from his Ute, he shrugged into a suit jacket and adjusted his tie. He hated getting dressed up, preferring the good old days when he was on the tools, wearing shorts and a T-shirt and a high-visibility safety vest. But he always arrived on the first day of any job in a suit, intent on being the model CEO instilling confidence in the clients and this job would be no different.

However, as he knocked softly on the glass door and glimpsed Hope moving through the shadows at the back of the shop, he knew he was kidding himself. The instant hardening of his cock and the accelerated heart rate meant that seeing her again after what they'd done in that alley behind the pub ensured this job was different.

She unlocked the door and let him in, locking it behind him. "Did you have to get here at the crack of dawn?"

Even bleary-eyed and frowning, with her hair caught up in a messy ponytail and a raspy voice that wouldn't win any song of the year contests, she was gorgeous, with that just-tumbled-out-of-bed look that had him hankering to take her to bed.

"Not a morning person I see," he said, resisting the urge to kiss her cheek as the faintest waft of her rose fragrance tickled his nose.

"I'm a muso. We keep late hours. What do you think?" She continued grumbling under her breath as she stalked ahead of him, doing some weird stretching thing with her arms and shoulders. "Coffee's on if you want some."

"I'd love a cup." He followed her, checking out her ass. She wore grey yoga pants and a matching hoodie. But what captured his attention was the VPL. A visible panty line meant she didn't go commando all the time. Or was she trying to send him some unspoken signal that what had happened between them was strictly a one-off?

"Help yourself," she muttered, as they entered a small kitchenette and she pointed to a state of the art coffee machine tucked into the corner of the narrow bench-top. "I need to inhale this caffeine otherwise I'm not fit to be around humans."

She sat at a table for two, picked up a mug, and cradled it between her hands. She lifted it to her face and inhaled the steam first, before taking a slurp. "Ah…so good…"

Logan gritted his teeth and turned away before she spotted his boner, her appreciative moan for coffee eliciting a clear memory of how appreciative she'd sounded when he'd made her come.

He poured himself a large coffee and joined her at the table. The thing was tiny and their knees jostled before she surreptitiously slid her chair back a fraction. That subtle movement away from him confirmed it. She wanted to re-establish distance between them despite going at him behind the pub. Fine, he could do cool and aloof too and as they sipped in silence he inwardly cursed his stupid expectations that arriving early might get them back on solid ground.

When she'd emptied the mug, she set it down and eyeballed him. "Right, now that the caffeine has jumpstarted my brain, what are you doing here so early?"

He couldn't admit the truth—that he hoped to take the edge off his usual morning boner—so he settled for, "I always scope out a job on the first day before the tradies arrive."

"Bullocks," she said, the English version of bullshit making him grin. "And why are you wearing a suit?"

Damn, he liked how she wasn't backward in coming forward. Most women he'd been involved with casually would hedge around questions and play stupid mind games that made him lose his shit. Hope was different, but he'd already figured that out considering the way they'd fucked in an alley.

"I'm the boss." He flicked an imaginary fleck of lint from his lapel in mock fastidiousness. "It pays to make a good impression with the clients."

"You've already done that," she murmured, meeting his eyes without qualm, the jade flecks glowing with unexpected fervour.

"Do tell."

He threw it out there as a challenge, wanting her to articulate how good they'd been together up against that alley wall and how badly she wanted to do it again, like he did. Instead, her gaze slid away and he quelled his disappointment with a gulp of coffee.

"Are we still on track for the job to be finished in two weeks?" She reverted to coolly distant and he wanted to rattle her out of her deliberate temerity so much his teeth ached.

But he settled for an equally sedate, "Absolutely. My men are the best and when we give timelines, we stick to it."

She toyed with a crumb on the table top, her forefinger pushing it around. "Will you be here every day?"

"No."

Fuck this, he never played games and he wasn't about to start now. His hand snaked across the table and covered hers. She jumped and her startled gaze flew to his. "Unless you want me to be."

Her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip and his cock twitched. He glimpsed excitement in her eyes before she snatched her hand out from under his.

"No, that's fine, I was just wondering."

Now it was his turn to call bullshit. "What's up with you?"

She focussed on the cupboard above his right shoulder. "Nothing."

"Okay, have it your way."

Disappointed, he stood and headed for the sink, where he dumped the rest of his coffee and rinsed the mug before placing it upside down on the rack to drain.

"Hey." Her hand touched his waist and he resisted the urge to spin around, lift her onto the sink and bury himself in her. "I'm sorry for being an idiot."

"Maybe you can't help being one," he said, turning to find a smile playing about her mouth.

"At the risk of sounding like the idiot you think I am, I don't do well with unexpected outcomes. I'm a planner. I have clear goals and lists. And having sex with you disrupted my plans and my sleep and now seeing you again today makes me loopy and I don't like feeling out of control—"

He slanted his mouth across hers, a soft, tender kiss when he wanted to devour her. But she needed the reassurance and he wasn't an emotionless dickhead who took advantage of a situation.

Because he didn't know her well enough, he'd had no idea her aloofness was a result of confusion. He'd pegged her for a reserved ice princess at the start and assumed she'd reverted to type. If he hadn't been able to get her out of his head all weekend, maybe she'd been the same?

She made a soft mewling soft and slipped her arms up and around his neck, angling her mouth to give him better access. She tasted of coffee with just a hint of vanilla. Delicious, enticing, addictive.

When she pressed against him he claimed her mouth with deeper precision, his hands drifting to her ass, loving the way the globes filled his palms.

She eased away too soon. "I have a room, a miniature recording studio off the main teaching area." Her eyes glittered with intent. "It's soundproof," she added.

Not that it mattered. While it was only the two of them here, he had every intention of making her scream.

"You know I didn't come here early just for this," he said, taking her hand when she offered it. "I wanted to make sure everything was okay between us after what happened at the pub."

"Liar. You wanted to get laid just as badly as I do." Mischief twinkled in her eyes. "But don't sweat it. We'll be respectable by the time your crew arrives."

Grateful for her bluntness, he made a grand show of glancing at his watch. "So that means I have forty-five minutes to allow you to disrespect me?"

"And I intend on making every one of those minutes count." She squeezed his hand and led him out of the kitchenette.

He'd meant it when he said he hadn't come here early for sex—though the thought had crossed his mind several times since waking with a boner and knowing he'd be seeing her shortly—but having her clearly articulate she wanted to fuck made him glad he'd arrived before his tradies as she led him past the grand piano and into a tiny room that could barely fit them.

"This is snug," he said, when she nudged him to one side in order to close the door.

"That's the whole idea." She grabbed the lone chair and turned it around, before guiding him to sit. "All the better to be closer to you."

"What are you, the big, bad wolf?"

"Yeah, and I'm going to gobble you all in one go."

She knelt at his feet and reached for his zipper. He imagined her mouth wrapped around him, those lips moving over his cock, sucking him…

"Wait." He stilled her hand and tugged her up until she straddled his lap. "Don't get me wrong, I love a blow job like the next bloke, but I've fantasised about being inside you all weekend so that's what I want."

Her lips parted and her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip as she gave a brief nod. "Okay."

He liked this about her, no fuss, no need for extraneous explanations, as she stood and shimmied out of her yoga pants, taking purple panties with it.

Leaving him a glorious view of her neatly trimmed pussy at eye level. The alley sex had been hot but he liked this way, being able to see her.

As if sensing his need, she unzipped the hoodie and slipped it off, revealing small, pert breasts with perfect pink nipples. No bra. Nice.

"You're beautiful," he said, reaching for her.

She waggled her finger at him. "I want to see you too." She pointed at his fly. "Unzip."

Glad she didn't want him to go through the whole rigmarole of taking off his tie, shirt, and jacket too, he unzipped, pushed his pants and jocks down a fraction, and slid his hand in to free his cock. It sprang to attention and she moaned a little.

"Wow." She reached out to touch the tip of his cock and it twitched as he used every last ounce of self-restraint not to haul her down and impale her.

He slipped his wallet from his back pocket, grabbed a condom, and had the foil torn in record time. She watched as he pinched the tip between his thumb and forefinger and rolled it on. He'd got about half way when he saw her hand drift towards her pussy. Fuck, watching him was turning her on and she was going to touch herself.

"I did this the other day, after our first kiss," she said, her hand sliding lower with a torturous slowness. "I was so turned on I masturbated in the bathroom here, imagining you doing this."

Blown away by her admission and so fucking turned on his balls ached, he slowed down the rolling action, mesmerised as her middle finger slid between her folds. His throat tightened as her finger moved, in and out, and he slid the condom the rest of the way, desperate to be inside her.

"You are something else." His voice sounded halfway between a rasp and a growl as he reached for her. She spread her legs either side of his thighs and lowered herself onto him inch by exquisite inch, pleasuring herself all the while. When he reached for her she swatted him away.

"Interlace your fingers behind your head," she said, her voice husky, her eyes wide blue pools he could easily drown in.

Liking her take-charge attitude, he did as he was told and she smiled, a provocative curve of her lips that made him want to yell with the joy of having this sexy, wanton woman issuing orders.

"Now sit back and relax as we enjoy the ride." For emphasis, she picked up the pace, sliding up and down as her fingers played with her clit, so fucking hot.

He went into sensory overload, watching her tits bounce in his face, her fingering her clit, and her pussy sliding up and down his cock. He wanted to taste her so bad, to feel her, but as he leaned forward she pushed him back with her free hand and continued to ride him until the first ripples of orgasm built.

She bounced harder as her finger moved faster, her pussy clenching him as she came on a cry that made him want to shout in victory. He followed a second later, his back spasming with the force of it, his mind effectively wiped.

She leaned forward and rested her forehead against his as he unlocked his fingers and slid his arms around her waist.

He couldn't get over the contrasts of this woman and wondered if that was the main attraction. Followed by a more sobering thought. So far, she'd been the one calling all the shots. Which either made him a dumb schmuck being led around by his dick or a guy so smitten he was happy with whatever scraps she tossed his way.

They needed to talk.

Starting now.