Chapter 27

Logan

“I'm out of ideas, Shannon. Everything I suggest you throw away because it's not what you want. Stop being so selfish and learn how to compromise.”

“I don't care anymore. I give up!” she screams and grabs her purse, storming out the door.

I should go after her.

But I don’t.

I wake up from the dream, drenched in sweat and needing whiskey to push away the shit in my head. It’s been two weeks since Hannah and I became official. She’s amazing. Fucking amazing. There’s nothing about her I don’t admire. Her heart’s big, she’s caring, and every day we’re together, it becomes easy—just easier.

Being with her is too good to mess up. As much of an asshole as I am, I know she’s what I need.

I haven’t craved alcohol since we became official. She makes me want to be better. I don’t want to be numb or block out the things I’ve been through. She’s patient with me, giving me the space I need to gather my thoughts and desire to explain Paige to her.

I throw the covers off my body, I get out of bed and get ready for the day. After I finish getting dressed, I send Hannah a text and let her know I'll be in the office within the hour.

Her response puts a fucking smile on my face.

Hannah: Sounds good. I miss you. Can’t wait to see you =)

Hannah: PS side note, I’m picking us up coffee and breakfast. See you soon.

I head downstairs and grab the necessary files I need for today’s meetings. My gaze drifts to a half-empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the bar. I break out in a cold sweat. My mouth goes dry and my body trembles. I take a few shuffling steps across the kitchen, curl my sweaty hand around the neck of the bottle, and imagine the burning taste flowing over my tongue, sliding down my throat and—

Hannah’s voice pops into my head.

You’re stronger than the alcohol, Logan.

I picture her smile, her bright smile, and suddenly I’m calm again. All it takes is for me to think about her, and everything falls into place. I breathe in, out, and jerk my gaze away from the bottle. I’m doing the right thing. With her, I can do anything. Even though I sound like a damn pussy, I don’t give a shit. I’m doing this for me… and for her.

The day goes by without any issues. We’re in back-to-back meetings, and I love seeing her in the zone. Hannah doesn’t miss a beat, and her skills as my assistant are above and beyond. I make note to talk to my father about putting her in a different position—something higher, more deserving.

When I knock on his door, he calls for me to come in, and I’m seated in a chair across from him.

“What’s going on?”

I adjust my tie and let him know what I think. “Hannah’s too good for an assistant. She needs more. I need her to do more. Her creativity and sense of business strategies exceed our expectations from senior-level positions. In today’s meeting with Viacom, she impressed me with the stats she quoted, and the possible outside influences. I think next week, she should come with me to California when we meet with them.”

My father strokes his chin in deep thought, and looks between me and the reports Hannah provided.

“Also, she’s secured two additional clients based on her research. She needs an analytical role—and to be on my team, but not as my assistant. She deserves more.”

“I see.” He gets up from his chair and crosses to the window. “Does this have anything to do with your newfound relationship with her?”

I’m not surprised he knows.

When I was little and into my teenage years, I never was able to get away with anything. My parents found out, even sometimes before I did anything.

“No,” I respond with conviction. “She’s what we need. I’ve shown you all the details and statistics. Even if you don’t believe me, the reports don’t lie. Numbers don’t lie.”

“Ah.” He points at me. “Seems like something I’ve taught you has stuck. If you want her for this, then you’ll need to find a new assistant. This quarter is promising. You can’t manage your own schedule.”

“Okay. I’ll contact the temp agency and see what they have available.”

He nods. “Good. I’ll see to a new position and tell HR to immediately push through her new role.” My father gets on the phone with the head of HR, letting her know what needs to be done, and to call Hannah for a meeting to finalize the position. Once he’s off the phone, we sit down again and he says, “I suggest you gently let her know of her new position. She may feel as though she’s not deserving of this position, and we can’t have her thinking that.”

“Of course.”

We talk about this quarter’s goals before I leave his office and head back to mine. I notice Hannah’s not at her desk, and when I go into my office I see a note on my computer monitor.

Meeting with HR. I’ll BBL.

Since the meeting with my father, I haven't heard from Hannah. She left her phone at her desk, and I’m not sure when she’ll be done with HR. Three hours pass, and I'm getting anxious. I wish I had the chance to talk to her before her meeting. By the time I’m done with my four o’clock meeting, Hannah’s in my office with a scowl on her face.

“Please do not tell me you had anything to do with my promotion. Please. I don’t want it, because my boss—who I’m dating and screwing—pushed for it. I want it on my own merit.”

“First”—I walk over and lean down to kiss her forehead—“we haven’t screwed in weeks, and second, no, I brought up the promotion to my father based on the evidence of the clients you secured and your research.” I brush a strand of hair away from her face and kiss her again. “You deserve it, Hannah.”

“Really?” she excitedly beams, and wraps her arms around my neck. “Thank you so much.”

“No need to thank me, baby.”

“Do you want me to find you a new assistant?”

“A new one will be here tomorrow. Let me show you where your new office will be. We should set up now.”

“Okay,” she says and I lead her down the hall toward her office. When we're inside, I watch her walk toward her new desk, placing her hand on top, and gliding it from one side to the other.

“This is amazing. I don't know what to say.”

“There's nothing for you to say,” I tell her. “You worked hard and proved you can handle more responsibilities.”

“It's just all so much.” I walk over to her and place my hand on her cheek.

“You're a hard worker, baby. I'm not the only one who noticed. Having you in this position will do wonders for the company.” I watch her smile grow as she slides her arms around my neck and places her cheek against my chest. “Would you like to join me and my parents at dinner tonight?”

“Of course,” she whispers, and lets me go to explore her office some more.

The bookcase near the door matches the large mahogany desk. Two monitors are aligned on the right L of the desk with her laptop to the left where she can access both at the same time. Two overstuffed chairs are positioned opposite her desk for clients and visitors. I swivel my head to the right and notice a couch on the other side of the office.

“Oh, the things we can do on that couch with the doors locked.”

She slaps me on the arm and a fit of laughter fills the office. “We’re not having sex in here!”

“Why’s that?”

“Because this”—she spreads her arms wide and spins around—”is where I can think and be professional. If we have sex in here, then I’ll think about you all the time and won’t get work done.”

“I beg to differ.” I stroll over to her, place my finger beneath her chin, and raise it so her gaze is latched on mine. “You want it just as badly as me.”

“Hush,” she whispers.

Thank fuck I locked the door when we first came in. I take a deep breath through my nose, having her scent fill me, before lifting her body to mine and carrying her over to the couch. Once I have her where I need her to be, I pull her dress up along her thighs and groan into her mouth, teasing the lace edge of her panties with my fingers.

“Did you wear this tight little dress to tease me?”

“Maybe,” she breathlessly whispers, groaning when I place my lips on her inner thighs.

I push aside her panties and lick her folds before sucking her clit, pushing two fingers inside her. Fuck, she’s wetter than our first time together. I fuck her hard with my fingers, rubbing strong circles on her clit. Her moans become louder, and right before she’s about to come, I pull my fingers out.

“W-why? I was so close.”

I smirk, taking out a condom from my wallet, and unbutton my pants. My cock springs free. She licks her lips and her eyes are full of need and desire. The searing burn deepens into my chest.

She gets up and presses her lips to my ear. “Fuck me against the wall.”

“Shit.” I groan and immediately give her what she wants.

My hands grip her soft as silk ass as I slam her back against the wall. Her arms wrap around my neck, holding me tightly, and my cock thrusts hard into her. She smells like heaven and I can’t get enough of how she feels when I’m inside her. I’m drunk on her—on everything about her.

Our breathing races and the tightness around my cock nearly pushes me over the edge, where I want to be.

“So close,” she moans into my shoulder, quieting her impending orgasm.

“Fuck. Hannah,” I roar out, not giving a shit who can hear me.

She fiercely shakes, holding onto me for support, and feathers my face with soft kisses. Slowly, I put her down and discard the condom. I jam my legs into my pants, readjust my cock, and wrap myself around Hannah.

We take a long, peaceful moment to stand in the middle of her office, just holding each other, right here in the now.

We arrive at the restaurant to meet my parents for dinner, and find them in the corner. I give my mom a kiss on her cheek and shake my dad’s hand. Hannah does the same with my mom, and my dad gives her a hug. I notice the smile on my mom's face and ignore her while talking to my dad, filling him in on the potential clients and our plan of attack.

“What?”

Mom leans in close to me and whispers, “You’re different. Honey, why are you different?”

“No reason.” I sip on my lemon water and know what’s about to come.

She eyes Hannah, who is talking to my dad, and then Mom turns back to me. “She's adorable, and I'm so glad you two are together. Thank you for bringing her to dinner so your father and I can get to know her more. She's delightful, Logan.”

Growing up, I never could keep anything from my parents, especially not my mom. She always knew what I was doing, sometimes before I even knew. Whenever I was going through something—whether good or bad, I knew I could come to her and we’d talk it out.

I smile to myself and reach over to take Hannah's cool hand. “She is.”

“Hannah, dear, how's everything at work?” my mom asks.

She grins and lets out a small giggle. “Very good. I love being part of the team.”

“We're lucky to have you,” my dad replies, and I nod in agreement.

“Oh, dear, you'll have to join us for dinner more often.”

“Thank you so much for having me tonight,” Hannah says while gazing at my parents. “It means so much to me.”

Mom waves a dismissive hand. “Nonsense. You have no idea how much it means to us to have you here. Oh, and thank you again for those beautiful flowers you gave me while Logan was in the hospital. Did you know the orchids are still growing?”

“I'm so glad.” She claps and then laces her hands together.

Mom clinks a spoon against her glass. “Oh, Logan, you have an amazing woman in your life. Please don't let her go!”

Dad winks in agreement.

I pull Hannah’s hands from her lap and untangle her fingers. “I don't plan on it.”

Hannah blushes and I raise her hand to my lips. I catch a faint whiff of her pussy on my own fingers and groan at the jolt of desire it sends through my blood. My cock stirs against my zipper and I recall the hot, moist snugness of her stroking me, going wild on me against that wall.

I slouch in my seat to hide my growing erection.

Aw, hell, this is going to be the longest, most painful damn dinner of my life.