Page 16 of The All-Inclusive

“How about we start with the drink?” His kindhearted smile keeps me from diving under the bed to hide until winter.

Maybe longer if I can’t stop spewing ridiculous things.

Logan’s still smiling as he strides over with a glass in each hand. Handing me one of them, he rests a hand at the small of my back. “Is this okay?”

“You touching me?” It’s way more than okay. “Yes.”

“Great!” He guides me to the loveseat overlooking the sea and takes a seat on one side. Patting the cushion, he smiles. “I promise I don’t bite. And I won’t lick you anywhere until after our lemon drops.”

“Okay.” That makes as much sense as anything. With my knees still a little bit wobbly, I sit down beside him and cross my bare legs. My skirt rides up and I start to tug it down, but I see his hot gaze linger on my exposed thigh.

Fuck it. Might as well start somewhere.

I take a sip of my drink, which has just the right blend of sweetness and tart. Logan Wilder is a man of many talents. “How long have you worked here?”

“A little over three years.” He sets his glass down and stretches his arms over the back of the loveseat. “Joined the Marines right out of high school. That’s what I was doing before I came to work at Crystal Bliss.” His cheerful smile slips just a little, but he shores it up fast. “Took a little time off in between, but I’ve been here long enough to know I love working for Crystal Bliss. How about you?”

“Me?”

“What do you like to do?”

I like that he’s leaving it open. That I can volunteer my job or my hobbies or the places I’d like to be licked.

Stop thinking about licking.

“I’m twenty-three and I grew up in Portland. I work as a special-ed teacher.” God, I sound so innocent. “I’ve been felt up before, and my former fiancée made me come by touching me over my panties.” I’m trying to sound worldly and experienced, but I hear myself speaking and I know I’ve just had the opposite effect. “I’ve been saving myself for the guy I’d planned to marry since I was fourteen, but he dumped me four weeks before our wedding without really explaining, so…” Crap, where was I going with this? “Now I’m here to have sex.”

Logan just smiles at me kindly. “Anyone ever tell you your eyes are mesmerizing?”

“Oh.” It’s probably a line he delivers to everyone, but he’s looking at me like he means it.

“The left one’s just a little bit lighter than the right one.” He leans in closer, brushing my knee with his knuckles. “You’ve got this beautiful, warm ring of honey right around your pupils, and it flows into ribbons of amber and coffee. Really striking.”

“Wow.”

He leans back and all the breath leaves my lungs. “I wasn’t tuning you out,” he adds, since I’m rendered basically speechless. “It takes an incredibly strong and compassionate person to teach special-ed. My brother suffered a traumatic brain injury at six, and if it weren’t for some truly amazing special-ed teachers, he wouldn’t have the full life he has now. I admire the hell out of you for the work you do.”

“Oh my God.” Licking my lips, I manage a wobbly smile. “You’re really good at that.”

“At what?”

“Putting people at ease. Reallyseeingsomeone.”

He chuckles and picks up his drink. “I promise it’s not just a consort trick. I love getting to know awesome people. I loveseeingyou.” Grinning, he takes a small sip of his drink. “And inthis case, I happen to see an extraordinary woman who’s sexy as fuck.”

“Oh.” I’m almost too flustered to remember my manners. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He sets down his glass, letting his hand graze my knee as he shifts a bit closer. “How’s the drink?”

“Good.” I glance at my glass on the table. I’ve only had a few sips, so I can’t blame the booze for how buzzy I feel. Maybe I’m still keyed up from the night of my party. I haven’t touched myself since before Trent walked out, so I’m achy and needing relief.

That’s why I do it.

Why I lunge for his mouth, straddling Logan as I push him back into the couch. The instant I seal my lips against his, my brain fills with flashbacks to Trent. To that night on his sofa and?—

Oh.

Logan’s big hands find their way to my waist, and his touch feels nothing like Trent’s. The sweep of his tongue, the drag of his palms up my spine—it’s different; not better or worse, just different.

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