Page 40 of The Wanderer

"You're talking about it when I asked you not to." He shook his head, hating that he felt compelled to justify himself and knowing he couldn't, not without telling her too much. "How the hell did you find me?"

She flashed a sickly sweet smile. "Your foreman is a lovely man."

"I'll kill the prick," he muttered, knowing this would be Rick's idea of matchmaking. Dickhead. "Now that you're here, do you want a drink?"

"No thanks." She clasped her hands together and stood in the middle of his living room, a bright splash of colour against the drabness. It made the contrast between his life and hers all the more vivid. "When are you leaving?"

Her bluntness startled him. Most women played games and skirted around the tough stuff. Not Hope. Assertive in and out of the bedroom.

"Early next week. There's a job in Sydney I need to quote. A music recital hall."

"Your reputation for producing fine acoustics is preceding you."

"The indirect promotional grapevine is the most effective," he said, sounding like a stilted marketing advertisement as he gestured for her to take a seat. "So please feel free to tout me to any colleagues."

"But that might mean you'll return to Melbourne." Her hand flew to her mouth in mock horror. "And oh my, we might hook up again."

He had no idea if she meant it as a flippant remark or was testing to see if he'd be amenable to the idea. Either way, he had to shut this down. No way in hell would he ever have a woman waiting for him to return, her happiness dependent on him.

He wasn't his fucking father.

So he dredged up the worst insult he could, ensuring that by belittling what they had she’d never want to see him again.

"Being a refined Englishwoman, you've probably never heard the term hit it and quit it?"

She may not have heard the term but she understood the meaning if her thinned lips and blazing eyes were any indication. "I said that in jest. I'm not an idiot, Logan. I know this thing between us was nothing more than a fling and that you wouldn't look back once you 'quit it'."

So she got the message. Good.

Why did it make him feel like the lowest slime?

"What are you really doing here, Hope?"

If he deflected, it might stop him from hauling her into his arms and giving her the explanation she deserved.

"I don't like being walked out on. First at my apartment, then tonight at the restaurant." She took a step towards him, glaring and defiant. "Unlike you, I finish what I start."

Another step, bringing her within touching distance. "And seeing as we're almost at the quit part, don't you think it's only fair we have one last 'hit'?"

Logan stood his ground, gritting his teeth, his fingers curling into fists by his side. He didn't want to be responsible for hurting this woman more than he already had. He wasn't a fool. He'd seen the pain in her eyes several times now, pain he'd caused in his lousy attempts to push her away. So no matter how badly he yearned to have her now, he wouldn't initiate it.

"Hope, this isn't a good idea—"

"Ssh." She placed a fingertip against his mouth. "I'm calling the shots."

"You always have," he murmured, experiencing a jolt as her fingertip traced the shape of his mouth.

"What can I say? I like being in charge."

She set about proving it by pushing him down onto the sofa and straddling him. Her dress rucked up, revealing smooth thighs he'd explored in great detail. Her skin glowed in the light cast from the sole lamp he'd switched on, pale and luminous. She rested her hands on his shoulders, pinning him to the back of the sofa.

Blood pounded in his head, drowning out any last resistance. He averted his gaze and swallowed, trying to regain control of his rampant libido when it came to this woman, and losing as she writhed against him and his cock throbbed.

"You want this as much as I do," she said, grinding against him again, determined to make him lose it.

He sucked in a breath as their eyes met, her raging desire no match for his splintering resistance.

He shifted his pelvis so his hard cock pressed against the spot he wanted to be, and surrendered. "Fuck yeah."

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