Page 225 of Sin Bin

Jess laughed. “Seriously!”

Ana heaved a sigh. “I love my sister dearly, but she can be a brat when she doesn’t get her way. She threw a tantrum at my quinceañera because I was the one getting all the attention and she couldn’t stand it. I don’t want her causing a scene at my wedding just because her crush shows up with a date.”

Meadow didn’t know what to say. “Um…okay.”

Ana grinned. “I’m just kidding. Well, not the part about my sister. That part was true. But you and Logan can come to my wedding—”

“To be confronted by a salty ass bridesmaid?” Scarlett snorted. “Hard pass!”

As everyone laughed and returned to their seats, Jess said excitedly, “I can’t wait to see Logan’s Under Armour commercial to kick off the playoffs. The bunnies have been buzzing about it on Twitter ever since the company released a still shot of Logan looking naked.”

This drew lascivious giggles and grins.

Meadow shook her head. “He’s not naked. He’s wearing shorts.”

Ana snickered. “Tell that to the hordes of women who’ve been liking the picture and creating memes. Even celebrities have been retweeting it.”

“I know, right?” Bianca grinned at Meadow. “I heard the commercial is almost two minutes long, practically a music video. Has Logan told you anything about it?”

“No. And I haven’t asked.” Meadow sent a warning glare around the room. “Please refrain from any and all lewd commentary about my boyfriend.”

The girls laughed at her.

“Sorry, chica, but no haps,” Ana teased unsympathetically. “You’re dating a popular sex symbol, so you’re gonna have to get used to women lusting after him. Including your friends.”

The others broke out into laughter.

Meadow found herself both dreading and anticipating the commercial. When it premiered during the pregame show, she was perched on the edge of her seat just like everyone else.

The opening shot showed Logan framed in silhouette against the ropes of a boxing ring, the background bathed in fog. His powerful chest was bare and he was wearing black boxing shorts that sat low enough on his hips to reveal the deep grooves of his V muscle, drawing lustful sighs around the room.

“Are you ready?” a spine-tingling whisper floated up out of the darkness.

The haunting violin strings of the Raging Bull theme song could be heard playing in the background. As Logan began shadowboxing in the ring, the camera slowly panned up over his shuffling feet, his muscular calves, his round ass, the rippling muscles of his huge shoulders and tattooed biceps. When pulses were racing and panties were soaked, the camera zoomed in on a single bead of sweat trickling down the deep ridges of his ripped abs.

Breathy squeals broke out across the room.

Just before the glistening droplet of sweat disappeared below Logan’s waistband, his massive gloved fist came barreling straight toward the camera. Snapped out of their lust-induced trance, the girls gasped and instinctively ducked as his fist connected with the jaw of an opponent. Blood and spit flew, splashing the camera lens.

In the blink of an eye, the boxing ring became a noisy ice rink. The giant television screen exploded with images of Logan brawling during hockey games, throwing haymakers with ruthless precision. The camera shook from the impact of each punishing blow.

Before viewers could catch their breath from the display of brutal male aggression, the commercial cut to a wide shot of Logan partying with friends at a nightclub. He looked amazeballs in a slick gray designer suit with a white shirt open at the neck. He was moving through the crowd, nodding to the beat of a bachata song as a beautiful mocha woman shimmied up to him. He smiled and started dancing with her, winding his hips and hypnotizing the audience with his wickedly sensual moves.

Looking over the woman’s shoulder, he gave a sexy little wink before the camera abruptly cut to a shot of him and his posse erupting from Vegas’s MGM Grand to the hard-pounding rhythm of LL Cool J’s “Mama Said Knock You Out.”

Logan was wearing a hooded black boxing robe with Bruiser emblazoned in gold on the back. He was grinning broadly and appeared to be celebrating a victory. Someone handed him a cigar from a lacquered humidor. He ran the stogie under his nose, savoring the aroma before he tucked it between his sexy lips. When the cigar was lit for him, Meadow found herself holding her breath, waiting to see if he would take a puff, if he would break league rules by smoking onscreen.

He lifted those midnight eyes to the camera and flashed a devilish smile that perfectly highlighted his bad boy reputation. Then he flicked the lit cigar to the ground. It fell in slow motion, the embers burning bright.

He crushed out the cigar with his skate, the steel blade glinting dangerously. The camera panned up his body to reveal him now wearing black hockey pants with a long-sleeved black Under Armour shirt. The tight-fitting compression fabric hugged the defined muscles of his chest like it had been expressly made for him.

Glistening from a workout, he sat on the locker room bench and began taping his hockey stick, a fierce warrior gearing up for battle.

Suddenly the background music exploded into Mobb Deep’s “Shook Ones Part II.” The ominous track played over shots of Logan torpedoing around the ice, shredding defenders with his speed, knocking them off their skates and scoring jaw-dropping goals.

Meadow shivered as the exciting montage faded away and Logan skated slowly toward the camera, a spotlight illuminating him in all his hulking menace.

“Are you ready?” the raspy voiceover asked viewers.

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