Page 15 of Her Demanding Biker
Kissing Logan 'Runaway Boyfriend' Zane!
All I had to do was lean in a tiny bit or if he moved closer to me it would be all kinds of stupid, so I did the only thing that my addled brain could think of.
I spoke the truth.
"I need to pee."
Oh yeah. That was going down in my list of TOP TEN SEXIEST THINGS I'VE EVER SAID.
"You need to..."
"Pee." I nodded to make my point. "If I don't get to the bathroom soon, it's going to get really messy in here."
Honestly?
I expected him to break some kind of land-speed record moving away from me.
Men might sidle up to fancy troughs in their bathrooms to pee, but I really doubted that Logan thought a woman talking about bathroom stuff was hot.
What I got was something so far in right field, I wasn't sure that I was still awake and not in some kind of second-hand smoke induced psychedelic dream.
In one smooth, awe-inspiring move, Logan got up on both feet and swept me up into his arms.
The teenage me would have fainted for joy at that moment.
The current me?
I dropped my chin to my chest and turned to hide my face in his shoulder.
I had no idea how he managed to carry me through the crowded room and not have my feet end up in someone's face, but he did.
And when I heard a door hinge creak in my ear I looked up and saw that we were in a smaller, private room.
The air conditioning was like a dream, cooling my skin instantly.
Logan turned and I felt him kick his leg out a moment before I saw the door close.
"You can go to the bathroom in here."
He moved across the room to the other door on the far wall and set me down on my feet.
I prayed that my leg had recovered enough feeling to keep me from falling on my face, but no.
I wasn't that lucky.
The instant I tried to put my weight on both feet at the same time, I started to topple like a tree cut off at the base.
Logan was ready for it, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. He walked me inside, holding me steady.
"You think you've got this from here?"
I heard the smile in his voice, and I wanted to clock him across the face for the humor he'd found in my predicament.
"If not," he moved his hand from my shoulder and a moment later I felt the palm of his hand on my waist, "I can close my eyes and hold you."
'You are not help-ing!'My inner voice at odd moments sounded suspiciously like Evie from the Mummy films. There was something about Rachel Weisz' sing-song tone of mild irritation that seemed to be the exact tone of her thoughts.
"There is no way I'm letting you stand in the bathroom while I pee!"
