Chapter Thirteen
Sabrina woke naked, alone in a strange bed. Which hotel, LA or San Diego? She rolled to her side, away from the bright sunlight stabbing her eyes through the blinds, and shoved her hair out of her face, getting her ring tangled in it. Ouch. She carefully pulled her fingers out of the tangle in her hair. Wait a minute. She didn’t wear a ring.
She stared at her left hand, where a gold band was sitting on her ring finger. A wedding band. Her mind whirled. She and Logan had been drinking champagne at Claire’s house and plotting a revenge wedding. Did they have a San Francisco quickie wedding? Did they exist? She rolled to her back and hollered, “Logan!”
A few moments later, he stood in the doorway in a blue T-shirt and worn jeans, bare feet, looking as relaxed as could be. “You bellowed?”
She held up her hand with the ring on it.
He held up his hand with the ring on it.
“Did I miss it?” she asked, slowly sitting up. She hadn’t been that drunk that she’d forget her own wedding.
He crossed to her and sat on the side of the bed. “It’s not real, just an FU like we agreed. Fake wedding, awesome honeymoon.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.
She stared at her wedding band, still not getting it. “When did you get these rings?” Shit. Had he already had the rings for a secret plan to marry Olivia? Ugh. What had she done? She must be Logan’s rebound. The worst. She wanted to shove him out of bed and curl into a ball.
He got in bed with her, sliding under the covers and sitting up against the white padded headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him. “Got them this morning,” he replied cheerfully. “It’s noon, sleepyhead. Guess I wore you out.”
She blushed, which was ridiculous after all they’d done. She’d climbed on top of him in the middle of the night, waking him for an intense round three. In the dark, the passion had unleashed even wilder than before. His dirty talk had spurred her on, lowering her inhibitions. She had been well fucked and collapsed boneless in the sleep of the dead.
Rebound.
He took her ring hand and held it up, looking at the ring in the sunlight.
She pulled her hand from his grip and sat with her back against the headboard and the covers up to her chin. “Do you regret sleeping with me?”
“Much too late for hiding.” He yanked the covers down and traced a finger over the swell of her breast. “You have my mark on you.” She glanced down at a small red spot, from suction or his teeth, she didn’t know. He’d touched her in every way he could, everywhere, and she’d loved every minute of it.
She swallowed hard. “You didn’t answer the question.”
He held her jaw, tipping her face up for his kiss. “No regrets.”
She nearly collapsed with relief. She didn’t dare ask if he was over Olivia. It was enough for now. Obviously he was willing to help restore her professional reputation with the fake marriage. She couldn’t ask for more.
“Good,” she said.
He pushed her tangled hair behind her ear. “You want to let your ex know we got married?”
Strangely, Kevin was the furthest thing from her mind. She was over it—the jilted-bride thing, the clueless wedding invitation, the enthusiastic my fiancée is awesome follow-up email. None of it mattered.
She looked into Logan’s warm brown eyes, her heart in her throat. She couldn’t possibly be his rebound when he looked at her like that, so warm, so tender. She knew this man, and he was one of the good ones. She could trust him. She did trust him.
“All that matters is you and me,” she said.
“So damn sweet,” he growled, his lips meeting hers in a swift hard kiss.
She let out a happy sigh, stroking his beard like she’d wanted to for so long.
He grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, his gaze intent on hers. “Let’s text our friends. You tell Claire to put the word out to the press. Presto, Sabrina’s rep is restored. Ready?”
She nodded. He seemed so enthusiastic about it, and he had taken the time to get them rings. It could only help, right?
He retrieved her purse from where she’d left it by her suitcase and handed it to her. She pulled out her phone and texted Claire while he texted his friends. Then she texted a group text to all of her friends. YOU GUYS! LOGAN AND I GOT MARRIED!
A flurry of texts chimed in, congratulating them. A few jabs for not inviting them to the wedding with a promised party for later.
“You done?” he asked. “Everyone knows we’re fake married now?”
She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, shit. I said we were actually married.”
“No problem. I’ll fix it.” He texted rapidly. “I’ll tell them we decided to go through with it today in Vegas. There, now everyone’s on the same page.”
They looked at each other.
She suddenly wanted to take it all back. She was just starting things with Logan, and this was going to add a huge complication to their fledgling relationship. What had she done? This had been a terrible idea with terrible consequences. If people found out it was fake, she’d be ruined even worse than she was now with half her clients gone. She’d look like a desperate relationship counselor, who was left at the altar and then faked a new marriage. The only thing worse would be her nutty family jumping into the spotlight to comment on their long history of noncommitted relationships. Free love and all that hippy stuff before it was even cool. Her stomach rolled.
She swallowed hard. “Maybe I should call off Claire.”
“Leave it. That psycho counselor is still out to get you. At least this’ll take the heat off. I don’t mind helping you out.”
“But I’m supposed to be committed to commitment. What if people find out it’s fake?” She winced. “Sometimes my vengeful side gets the better of me.”
He cradled her cheek, his thumb stroking it. “Let’s just enjoy a little weekend honeymoon. Later we’ll have our fake divorce when everything’s back to normal.”
Her stomach rolled and churned and threatened to revolt. Someone was going to get hurt, and she had a terrible feeling it was her. “Maybe we need an exit strategy for after the fake marriage. You know, so there’s no hard feelings.”
He dropped his hand and stared at her. “Hard feelings from a fake divorce?”
She tried to keep the worry from her voice. “An exit strategy would make clear boundaries for both of us. It’s a big leap from where we were to where we’re at now. Honestly, I need it for peace of mind.”
He looked thoughtful. “How’s this for an exit strategy? You can say I was secretly a commitment-phobe and you told me goodbye.”
“But we’re supposed to be married. Commitment-phobes don’t get that far.”
He rubbed his beard. “Okay, say I was a jerk with a wandering eye.”
She pursed her lips. “It reflects badly on me if I chose a jerk.”
“Then what?”
She looked at a point over his shoulder, deep in thought, before meeting his eyes, saying brightly, “We’ll say you’re already married, but I didn’t know it.”
“No.”
“We’ll say you’re gay, but you didn’t know it.”
“No!”
“Well, what, then?”
His brown eyes danced with amusement. “How about we say you secretly fell in love with a woman and I asked to watch you get it on?”
“Logan!”
He gave her a sexy half-smile. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing for me to watch.”
She worried her bottom lip. They needed to think of something good.
Logan got out of bed, stood, and held his arms out to her. “Okay, counselor, I see where this needs to go. Close your eyes, fall backward, and I’ll catch you.”
Her eyes widened. “Like a trust exercise?”
“Yup. It’ll calm you right down.” He wasn’t grinning, but something about his tone bordered on playful. Maybe because he was playing at psychology for her when his real expertise was tech.
She hesitated for a moment, but then she thought she probably would feel better, knowing he’d catch her. It was one of those things where the body gets the message and then the brain gets on board. It couldn’t hurt, especially as wobbly as she felt right now.
She slowly got out of bed, naked, and his gaze immediately dropped to her breasts and then took a tour down her body. She jabbed a finger at him. “Focus. You drop me and it completely negates the whole point of a trust exercise.”
He backed up from her a few steps. “Okay, ready when you are.”
She crossed to him, turned, closed her eyes, and fell. And kept falling as Logan dropped her—
to the floor.
In slow motion.
And then he was on top of her, his forearms on either side of her arms, gazing down at her, a gleam in his brown eyes. He smelled wonderful too, fresh and clean.
She bit back a smile. He looked so pleased with himself. “That was the exact opposite of what’s supposed to happen in a trust exercise,” she informed him. “You’re not supposed to drop me.”
He grinned. “Slow-motion drop with a very satisfying result.”
She pursed her lips. “If you’re not doing it the right way, you shouldn’t call it a trust exercise.”
A smile played over his lips. “Did anyone ever tell you that you do things too much by the book?”
“I told you why. My family is nuts. It was self-defense.”
He smirked. “The first step toward a solution is recognizing you have a problem.”
“Great, now you’re psychoanalyzing me.” She wiggled underneath him. “Let me up.”
“No.”
“Logan!”
“Relax. You need to loosen up, not try to control everything.”
She tensed. “You’re trying to control me right now.”
“I’m trying to kiss you right now.”
“Oh,” she whispered.
“You seriously didn’t know that?” he teased, holding her jaw. Then he kissed her tenderly before shifting to nuzzle into her neck.
“Let’s go back to bed,” she whispered.
He stood, offering his hand to pull her up. “Better idea. Shower together.”
“I’ve never done that.”
He leered at her. “Great. Now I can make you think everything I do is completely normal.”
She laughed.
He gave her a quick kiss. “Hopefully after our shower I’ll have tamed the beast enough to show you San Francisco.”
“Am I the beast in this scenario?” She smiled, kinda liking the idea. It was better than an untouchable porcelain doll.
“I’m the beast in all my lusty glory.” He nipped her lower lip. “But you can be too.”
“Okay, give me a few minutes of privacy.” She grabbed her toiletry bag, dashed to the bathroom, and shut the door. After she used the bathroom and washed her hands, she called to him. “You can come in.”
He got the shower running, and she took the opportunity to brush her teeth.
Logan raised his voice over the running water. “I thought later today we’d take a cable car ride, check out the Golden Gate bridge, walk around a bit, and then head to Fisherman’s Wharf. Sound good?”
She spoke around the toothpaste. “Awesome.”
“Awesome.” He stripped out of his clothes, setting them on the edge of the long bathroom counter.
She bent to rinse and spit, and Logan groaned. Maybe she should’ve put some clothes on. But what was the point? He’d only rip them off.
“I don’t know what I want more,” he said in a rough voice, “you bent over the counter or against the wall in the shower.”
She moved quickly, laughing as she got into the shower.
He joined her, his arms wrapping around her, his mouth sealing over hers. This was all that mattered. It was good between them, and she wasn’t going to think any further ahead than that.
~ ~ ~
Sabrina had just finished putting her breakfast dishes in the dishwasher when Logan came up behind her, putting his arms around her waist and nuzzling into her neck. Heat rushed through her. His kisses turned to soft sucking and small nips. Need gathered in a throbbing pulse between her legs.
“Logan,” she said on a moan. The intensity of his touch was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. One touch made her melt, one kiss made her body hum, all of her consumed by her baser needs. Their shower had been more than an hour ago, a slow, leisurely exploration. It was like they couldn’t be near each other without it turning lusty.
He turned her to face him, his hand sliding under her hair, cupping the back of her neck. He spoke against her lips. “I can’t believe I didn’t see what was right under my nose.”
“I hid my lust,” she whispered.
“Why?”
“I wanted your sexy body, but that’s not enough.”
One corner of his mouth kicked up. “It’s a start.”
“I thought you were a bad bet relationship-wise.”
His other hand came up, tracing the line of her neck and along her exposed collarbone. “Judgy much?”
She squeezed his arm, his fingers still playing under the collar of her V-neck T-shirt. “Well, you never seemed to get serious about anyone, plus there was the issue of your mom not being around.”
He dropped his hand and took a step back. “I have very little memory of my mom. I was four. And to be honest it wasn’t a big thing. My dad was awesome; I had a houseful of big brothers to look after me and a little sister that was pretty darn cool.”
“There may be some underlying issues.” At his scowl, she raised her palms. “We all have them. Me included.”
“Maybe, but I’m pretty happy. I suppose if I had to pick one issue, I’d say that the woman who wanted me for so long never gave me one clue that she felt that way.” He narrowed his eyes. “We could’ve been hooking up six months ago.”
She closed the distance, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him. “Then we’ve got some lost time to make up for.”
He held her jaw and kissed her, slowly backing her up until she bumped against the counter, his body pressing hard against hers. Oh fuck. Not here. There were windows; the whole downstairs was an open space. She tore her mouth away, and he shifted to her neck, his teeth scraping against the sensitive skin, his hand sliding between her legs.
“Logan, upstairs,” she managed, breathless. “Please. Windows.”
He lifted his head, took a look around, and met her eyes. “No one around. Take off your jeans. We’ll have a quickie.”
She smacked his shoulder lightly. “No.” She slipped away from him and headed for the stairs.
“No?” he asked with an edge to his voice.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw him stalking toward her, a determined gleam in his dark eyes. She rushed upstairs, Logan hot on her heels. He caught up with her in the hallway, grabbing her around the waist from behind. She squeaked. His teeth closed over her earlobe, giving a tug. “I know when you’re wet for me. Your breath comes hard when your body wants the same.”
She throbbed at the words. “I do, I am. I just want privacy.”
He turned her around, grabbed her hands, and pinned them against the wall. “Private enough for you?”
She glanced around. No windows. “Yes.”
Next thing she knew, her jeans and panties were around her ankles, and then they were off. He stood and gripped her hair, tilting her face up for his kiss, his mouth claiming hers just as his fingers delved between her legs, stroking her to a fever pitch. Oh, God, this man. He knew how to get her there fast and knew how to tease her torturously slow. This was fast, too fast. She clutched his shoulders, her limbs heavy and weak. A whimper escaped swallowed by his mouth.
Sharp need clawed at her. She grabbed his ass, pulling him close, needing to feel him inside her, not his fingers. He got the message, stepping back and pulling a condom from his jeans pocket. “Take off your shirt and bra,” he told her as he stripped down and rolled it on.
She did, her mouth dry, watching him, remembering how he felt full and deep inside her. In a flash he lifted her, taking her up against the wall, fierce and hard and hot. She panted, her nails digging into his shoulders, her head thrown back. Higher, hotter, everything in her coiled tight and then exploded. He thrust through her release, bringing aftershocks before letting out a guttural moan as he let go, his teeth clamping onto the cord of her neck in a primal hold that electrified her.
A long moment later, he held her jaw and kissed her, a long, slow, deep kiss like he couldn’t get enough of her. She lost herself, drugged by it, in a haze of lust and deep emotion. He broke the kiss, his warm hand stroking her cheek, her neck, across her shoulder and down her arm. She loved that he was so affectionate even after they made love. And that was what this felt like. Not just fucking.
He smoothed her hair back from her face. “I’m a beast. Screw San Francisco. I just want you back in my bed.”
She couldn’t help her smile. There was no question his focus was entirely on her, not his ex. “We should do a little sightseeing. I don’t know when I’ll be back here.”
He petted her some more, stroking down her rib cage and then holding her by the hips. “Two hours of sightseeing and then I want you naked on all fours.”
“That’s specific,” she teased. “Sounds like you’ve given this some thought.”
He stroked his thumb across her lower lip. “Ever since you bent over the sink this morning.”
“Then why didn’t you take me like that here?” In the shower, he’d pleasured her in another way, sealing her undying love for his mouth forever. And she’d returned the favor.
He kissed her and spoke against her lips. “I lost control because I wanted you so bad.” His hands slid to her ass and squeezed. “Now I’m planning ahead.”
“I can’t wait,” she whispered.
He groaned and held her tight to him before pulling away. “Two hours.” He snagged his clothes off the floor and swaggered toward the bedroom.
~ ~ ~
After they were dressed, both of them glowing and happy, she followed Logan out the door. They stopped in the driveway, where his black BMW was parked in front of her Jeep.
“Which car?” he asked.
“Jeep might be more fun.”
“Sure. Mind if I drive it? Then you can focus on taking in the sights on the drive.”
She smiled, touched by his consideration. “Sounds good.” She dug around in her purse for the car keys. A rustle in the bushes made her head snap up. A large telephoto lens was aimed at them. “Logan,” she said under her breath, “someone’s here.” Oh, shit. What if they hadn’t moved upstairs? There could’ve been sex pictures of them splashed everywhere, maybe even video. She grabbed Logan’s arm, dizzy at the thought.
“Hey!” he hollered. “Get lost. This is private property.”
The lens lowered, and her dad stepped out to the driveway. Her gut clenched and she pulled away from Logan, heading for her dad. She and her dad were linked by biology only. He’d never wanted to be part of her life. Tall and lean, his dark blond hair parted neatly to the side, he approached slowly, camera in hand. She’d destroy that camera, but it was possible he’d already sent digital pictures to another device or online.
Logan rushed toward her dad like he was going to physically remove him.
“Logan! It’s my dad.”
Logan halted, his head whipping toward her in question.
She nodded, her lips in a flat line. Now she had to explain her paparazzi dad stalking his own daughter.
Her dad stopped in front of her. “Hi, Sabrina.”
She held out her hand. “Let me see your camera. Did you take pictures of me and Logan?”
“No, I just got here.” He showed her, flipping through pictures of celebrities. Nothing of her and Logan. He studied her for a moment. “You look really happy.”
She ground her teeth. She had been happy. Now he’d turned a beautiful time to shit. “Been a while since I’ve seen you.” The last time had been at her disastrous wedding four years ago. In a forgiving mood, all starry-eyed about being a bride, she’d invited him.
“Better circumstances now for sure.” Her dad turned to Logan. “Hi, I’m Charlie. Nice to meet you.”
“Logan Campbell.”
Her dad nodded. “Yup.” He turned to Sabrina. “Sorry for hiding in the bushes. I wasn’t sure if you’d talk to me.”
She crossed her arms. “How did you find me?”
“Followed the trail—your connection to Claire Jordan, Logan’s investor meetings, your sudden wedding announcement. I was already in California.”
“Nice detective work,” she said.
He bobbed his head. “If I found you, it won’t be long before everyone else does. Can I please take a picture of you as a married couple? It’ll really help me out to get the scoop.”
She clenched her teeth. “No.”
Logan held up a finger. “Just a minute.” He pulled her back toward the house, whispering in her ear. “Let’s do it. It’s a big FU to everyone on our terms. Once he has the scoop, we won’t have any more paparazzi popping out of the bushes.”
She scowled. “My own dad sells me out.”
“We let him for a good reason.”
“He’s never cared about me. I didn’t even know he was my dad until I was thirteen. He showed up again when my mom started making some headway in her career as an artist. He wanted to sell pictures of her with her art, and she was happy to go along. I actually thought they might get back together because he moved in for a few weeks. But then he left again. I owe him nothing.”
“That sucks.” He glanced over to where her dad was fiddling with his camera.
“My people don’t commit.”
Logan took both her hands in his and gave them a squeeze. “My parents didn’t stick either.”
“So we’re both screwed up.”
He smiled down at her. “I say we go for it. Give him a big cheesy smile and then go on with our day.”
She looked over at her dad, who was turned slightly away, giving them a moment of privacy. Logan was probably right; a picture on their terms would be better than dealing with random people jumping out at them.
She called over to her dad. “Okay. One picture. We’ll stand in front of those bushes. I don’t want Claire’s house in the picture.”
“Great!” Her dad smiled, but she didn’t return it. He was a user.
She and Logan walked over to stand in place. Logan slung an arm around her shoulders.
Her dad lifted his camera, focusing it. “Stand facing each other, look into each other’s eyes, and smile. Sabrina, put your left hand on his shoulder so I can get the wedding band in the picture.”
She was about to say we’re fine when Logan turned her toward him, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. He leaned down, whispering to her, “Come on, put your hands on me like you like me.”
She laughed and rested her hands on his shoulders. He smiled down at her, his warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners. He looked really happy, and that made her happy. A surge of affection for him had her smiling back.
“Perfect!” her dad exclaimed, the camera clicking away.
She snapped back to reality and turned to her dad. “You get the shot?”
He checked his camera and smiled. “Yeah. Nice.” He went over and shook Logan’s hand and then hers. “Thank you so much. This’ll keep me in the black for a month.”
Logan stared at him, his expression hard. “You’ve got the exclusive. I suggest you get it out there fast. We’re going out, and someone else might get the jump on you.”
“Absolutely,” her dad said, nodding. “Thank you.”
Her dad turned to go, but Logan grabbed his arm. “I don’t want you stalking us again, clear? I don’t care who you are, I’ll call the police.”
“We’re good,” her dad said, his gaze shifting away. “This is all I need.”
“Hold on,” Logan said. “I’ll open the gate so you don’t have to climb the fence again.”
Her dad actually blushed, glancing at her before staring at the ground, waiting. He shoved his hand in his pocket, fished out a business card, and handed it to her. “In case you want to keep in touch.”
She shoved the card in her purse, irritated. He was probably hoping she’d get in touch for the next big payday picture. “Bye.”
Logan did the code to open the gate, and her dad took off at a near run.
Logan returned to her side. “That went better than I thought it would. Are you upset?”
She shook her head. “I just want to pretend that never happened. Swear to God if my mother comes out of the woodwork, I’ll die.”
“What would she do?”
“Try to get the spotlight on her and her art. Her work has fallen out of favor. Art trends come and go, and she never moved on from her favorite subject.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “I kinda want to see those erotic paintings.”
She glared at him. “I’m glad you find my embarrassing mother amusing.”
He shrugged. “I’m just curious.”
“Can we please go sightseeing now?”
He held her by the chin and kissed her. “Absolutely.”
Several minutes later, they finally took off in the Jeep. She really hoped that was the end of her family profiting off her.