Page 37 of The Write Off

“How did I pick a fight with you?”

“By…by criticizing me.”

I take a step forward, invading her personal space. “It wasn’t a criticism. It was a comment. There is a difference.”

She steps forward, accepting my challenge. “So now you’re not only correcting my words at work, but at home too. House calls are rare in this day and age. I’m so lucky.” She’s so close, I can feel the heat radiating off her skin.

“Do you always have to have the last word?”

“Do you want me to shut up? Because I would love for you to try to make m–”

I kiss her before I can talk myself out of it. Her mouth opens to me immediately and I taste citrus candy as she slides her tongue against mine.

I thought my heart was beating hard when we were arguing. Kissing her has sent it into complete overdrive. I’m certain she feels it through her thin sweatshirt with her chest pressed against mine.

Despite her keen response, I worry that I’ve overstepped and break the kiss, leaving us both gasping for air.

“Rilla–”

“I swear, Logan: If you are about to say something other than ‘Which way to the bedroom?’ I’m going to scream.”

Fuck it.

I pick her up and start down the dark hallway. It doesn’t take me long to locate the bedroom, even with Rilla wrapped around me like a horny koala bear, her face obstructing most of my line of sight. I lower her onto the middle of her bed, caging her in with my frame hovering above her. I kiss her again, slower this time, making sure I support my weight on my forearms. I don’t want to crush her, but the way she moves underneath me makes me think she may not mind one bit.

Her soft curves mold against my hard edges as if that’s what they were designed for. All that tension she appeared to be holding onto has disappeared, leaving her pliant in my hands and ready to be played with.

“So,” I say, moving my mouth to her jaw and trailing kisses down her neck. “You can stop talking.”

“Oh, Logan.” Her voice is throaty as she tugs me back up by my hair so we’re eye to eye. “Just for that comment, I’m going to be extra loud.”

Chapter 18

Rilla

I have never undressed quicker in my entire life. You know how Diana Prince would spin really fast and turn into Wonder Woman? Picture that, except at the end I’m still me, just naked.

Logan, on the other hand, has only managed to take off his jeans. He’s standing in front of my bed, holding them in one hand while he stares slack-jawed at my body.

“Are you going to fold those?” I smirk, nodding at the pair of pants.

“Not anymore.” They land in an unceremonious heap on the floor, but he doesn’t advance on me. He just stands there appreciating me like I should be framed and hung in a gallery.

Without looking away from the swells and curves of my body, he reaches behind his neck and grabs his t-shirt, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion.

Speaking of works of art.

The man is cut to perfection. Standing there in only his boxer briefs, he could be on a Times Square billboard for Calvin Klein. Every inch of him appears taut and toned. How has he been managing to hide all of that under layers of designer menswear?

“Christ, Logan,” I say, not trying to hide my astonishment at his build. “How does a book editor end up with that body?”

He shrugs, glancing down at his overworked torso. “I lift.”

“I gathered, but what do you lift? School buses?”

He sits down, the weight of his body making the mattress dip. “Are you going to come join me on the bed?”

“I suppose so.” I walk towards him slowly trying to mask my eagerness. I don’t know how I’m restraining myself when all I want to do is launch myself at him. “But only because I want to lie down. You’re exhausting.”

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