Page 16 of Not By the Playbook

“I’m so sorry about…that,” I mumble with a wave at his torso and slowly detach the rest of myself. I kneel, facing him. The bottom of the shirt drops back down to my knees but I still clutch the sheet to my chest.

A deep chuckle escapes him. “No damage done.”

I shuffle backward down the bed, one shin at a time, dragging the cloth with me. Halfway down the mattress, I pause. I’ve pulled it off enough that the top half of Logan’s muscled body is bared, the material flirting with the V at the base of his ripped abs.

“Like what you see?”

I gasp, my gaze swinging up to his smirking face. “Ah…”

“You can come back for a closer look, you know.” Mischief twinkles in his eyes.

I whip around and dash for the bathroom to the echo of his laughter. Jerk.

Once inside, I almost shriek at my reflection. My eyes are bright against my flushed face and my hair…all sexed up. Without the sex. What a waste.

Oh, no. No, no, no. We aren’t entertaining that kind of nonsense. I shake my head at the wayward thoughts and rake my fingers through my hair, but that does nothing to tame my ramen noodle curls.

My forehead thumps against the mirror, and I'm grateful for the momentary cooling sensation. When I lift my head, there's a foggy patch in the glass. The distorted view is many magnitudes more flattering.

A couple of fingers reach out to wipe off the steam, but instead, there is anLtraced in the mirror. I blink. Then blink again. My arm propels out to rub off the evidence of my madness with the outside of my fist. Temporary insanity at a temporary situation. That's what this is.

A shower does little to calm me. When I wiggle into last night's outfit, I only feel worse.

When I exit the bathroom, Logan is leaning against the headboard, all languid and lazy, a sexy smile hovering on his lips. But I ignore it in favor of the mouthwatering aroma wafting in from the kitchen. Caffeine. The elixir of sanity and sobriety.

I sneak a glance at the clock on the side table. Still early. But, of course, Jenna Barnes wouldn't sleep in, weekend or not.

Maybe I can wait her out? My eyes skim the chiseled form on the bed and then swing to the door. I tap my finger against my lips. In here with Logan or out there with Jenna? I am spoiled for choice.

He correctly interprets my grimace. “Jenna’s going to be awhile. It’s Saturday. She likes to sit with the newspaper. She's strange and old school like that. Been doing it since she was like, twelve. They all did.” For an infinitesimal second, a shadow crosses Logan’s eyes, but he wrinkles his nose and scrunches his brows together.

I laugh at his disgruntled expression. “Well, some people like to keep informed.”

He snorts. “Some people use technology.”

“And some people appreciate a more hands-on approach,” I retort.

“Oh, I definitely appreciate the hands-on approach when it comes to some things.” He strokes the light stubble on his chin, bringing my attention to his lips, sculpted and soft. Lush.

I flush. Those lips were trailing over my skin less than forty-eight hours ago.

He tips his head to the side and the corner of his mouth curls up in a grin of pure devilment. “But technology…yes, that can come in pretty handy too.”

My blood stutters, and my nipples tighten. I go even redder. Logan's smile only widens.

He pats the space beside him and waggles his eyebrows theatrically. “I’m happy to demonstrate if you come back to bed.” His eyes gleam with mirth.

My embarrassment fades as I laugh, the sensual haze lifting. My spine eases for the first time since I woke up. I square my shoulders. Time to brave the elder Barnes sibling and finagle myself into a job.

Chapter Nine

LOGAN

Becs isto blame when I linger far longer in the shower than necessary. The image of her wild hair, rounded mouth, and those erect nipples has gifted my usual morning wood some extra length. I bring myself to orgasm, but it’s not enough to take the edge off.

Again?But it would be cruel to leave Rebecca to my sister for too long. Though if she really wants to go be Maleficent’s handmaiden, Becs had better get used to Jenna now.

The conversation stalls when I enter the living space, and Jenna and Rebecca turn to face me. They are seated at the kitchen island across from each other. I swagger up to Becs, plant my hands on either side of her, and cage her in.

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