“Truth: when was the last time you had sex?”

Abby Fields stared across the table at Logan James, trying to figure out how anything that was happening was even possible. This was the most bizarre Valentine’s Day of her life. She was stranded in a log cabin in the middle of Tennessee, with a gorgeous man, playing a drinking game.

This couldn’t be right. He didn’t even like her.

To say that they didn’t exactly get along would be an understatement. She was pretty sure it had been his mission to make her job as complicated as possible.

It had been three months since Abby had accepted the position with the Jacksonville Stampede’s public relations department. Three months since she’d left her job in Washington, D.C., and headed south to Florida for a better paycheck—and there was the added perk of being closer to her best friend. But if she’d thought for one second that she was leaving the ego stroking and stress behind her, she’d been wrong.

Hockey players were no better than politicians.

Though to be fair, not all of the guys were bad. It was about a fifty-fifty split. Some were cooperative and helpful, willing to listen, offer a friendly smile, could carry on a conversation without scowling at her.

Logan was not one of those guys.

Yet here she was, sitting across from him and debating her next move.

Strip? Well, she was already down to her skirt and camisole. The next thing she took off was going to reveal red lace. That was all she needed, for Logan James to see her panties…because chances were, they would be hitting the floor, too.

Shoot? More alcohol wasn’t looking like a good choice. She’d already had four shots of the whiskey, but her inhibitions hadn’t been lowered that much to have influenced the disappearance of her clothes. That had been a decision she’d made all on her own.

Truth? He already thought she was uptight and repressed; all she needed was to confirm it with the fact that she hadn’t had sex in over a year…and even that hadn’t been very satisfying.

“Pick one, Red, that’s how the game goes.”

Logan was the only one on the team who didn’t call her Ms. Fields or Abby. It didn’t bother her at all. She was sure there had been way worse nicknames for her, and one based on her auburn hair color was not a bad one. Besides, she really hated being called Ms. Fields because it reminded her of Mrs. Fields, the cookies.

Sweet and warm…things that in no way described her.

Though the way Logan was looking at her might challenge that last statement. She was feeling more than a little warm as she looked into those green-gold eyes of his that sparkled from across the table. Then there were his lips that quirked up to the side. He had a sinful mouth, one that promised to do wicked things.

She was used to him scowling at her, none too pleased to be in the same room as her let alone talking to her, but he wasn’t frowning now.

Nope.

The guy had a killer smile when he chose to use it, and when it was paired with that jaw of his that was dusted with five-o’clock shadow?

Yeah, good God the man was attractive.

She wanted him. Wanted him more than she’d wanted a man in a very long time. Too long of a time. And when had she ever not gone for something she wanted?

Well, she wasn’t going to start that nonsense now.

The next two things Abby did shocked the hell out of both of them, as evident by the fact that his eyebrows climbed up his forehead.

One: she reached across the table and grabbed the shot, taking it in one fell swoop.

Second: she scooted the chair back and stood. She unzipped her skirt and pushed it down her thighs, adding it to the pile that included her hair clip, blazer, shoes, and blouse. There were now just as many of her things littering the floor as Logan’s—he’d lost his jacket, tie, socks, shoes, and belt.

She reached for the bottom of her camisole next, lifting it over her head and tossing it at him. He caught it before it hit him in the face, pulling it away as his eyes did a slow skim of her body. That mouth of his turned predatory as he took in her red bustier and lace panties, and black thigh-high stockings.

“Damn, Red.” The whisper that left his mouth was one of awe.

Abby slipped on her red high heels again before she walked to the other side of the table. She only clocked in at five-foot-two and she was going to use those extra five inches that her shoes provided to her advantage.

Plus, they were really freaking sexy.

Logan pushed his chair back, giving her just enough space to stand in front of him.

“You wrapped up in red lace…Happy Valentine’s Day to me.” He reached out and his hands skimmed her thighs, working up to her hips where he fingered the straps before he started to unsnap them. He had big hands, strong and powerful, callused and rough, and…oh God, so perfect. She wanted them all over her body.

This was when Abby did the third most shocking thing of the night: she climbed up onto his lap and straddled him.

Yeah, Logan wanted her all right. His cock was hard and pressing up into her core. She shifted closer and he groaned. His hands tightened on her hips, holding her in place, and he looked into her eyes. His gaze was hot and intense, not wavering in the slightest. She moved her hands to his hair, her fingers sliding between the dark brown strands.

“It’s been a while,” she finally answered as she leaned in close. “Truth: do you want to change that?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” And with that he claimed her mouth. She moaned as his tongue found hers. He tasted like whiskey, warm and earthy. His hands slid to her back and he started working the many hooks at the back of her bustier. A moment later it fell away from her body and he threw it to the side.

He stood, his chair sliding back along the wooden floors, and sat her down on top of the table. She placed her hands behind her on the table for balance as his hands skimmed up her body. He palmed her breasts, his thumbs rasping over her nipples.

She closed her eyes, her head falling back on her shoulders.

“Truth: do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you?” The question came out hoarse, like he was barely in control of anything let alone his voice.

Abby’s head came up and she looked at him. “Before tonight I thought you couldn’t stand me.”

He shook his head as he moved his hands to her belly. “Appearances can be deceiving. For example, who would’ve thought that you’d have something like this underneath those business skirts?” he asked as he continued his downward journey to her thighs and traced the lace tops of her stockings.

“I like expensive lingerie.”

“That’s interesting, because I like you in expensive lingerie.” He leaned forward, pressing his face to her neck. “Your perfume drives me crazy,” he whispered as he inhaled deep. “You smell so damn good.” Then his mouth opened up wide on her throat. “But you taste even better.”

And then his lips moved to hers and he was kissing her again, his mouth working over hers as one of his hands went to the apex of her thighs. He ran his fingers up her center, pressing into the lace.

Abby shifted forward, moving her hands from behind her and grabbing on to Logan’s shirt. She fisted the material in her hands and tugged it out of his gray slacks. She was working the buttons a moment later, but her impatience got the best of her and she ripped it open.

He grinned against her mouth as buttons scattered across the wooden floor, but he didn’t break the kiss. She ran her hands across his shoulders, slipping beneath the fabric and pushing the shirt down his arms. His hands moved from her body for just a moment as he dropped his arms and his shirt fell to the floor.

She pulled back from the kiss as her hands traveled down his chest, her fingers moving over his muscles. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him without his shirt on before. She’d been in and out of the locker room over the past three months after all, but she’d never allowed herself to appreciate everything that his body had to offer. She couldn’t. It had been hands off.

Until now.

He was…there were no words to accurately describe him. He was one hundred and ninety-five pounds of male perfection.

Her fingertips followed the trail of hair that ran down his abs and disappeared below the waistband of his slacks. She reached for the button before she started to work his zipper down.

Now this was a part of his anatomy that she’d never seen before, and she found herself holding her breath as she pushed his slacks down his hips, exposing him to her more than eager gaze.

Why was she not surprised that Logan was going commando?

His now freed erection immediately sprang up, and she reached out, wrapping her hand around it and stroking him from base to tip.

“Well, aren’t you impressive?” she whispered.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” He reached up and touched her chin, pushing gently until he could cover her mouth with his. His tongue dipped in, finding hers, moving in slow delicious thrusts that had her body craving more.

So much more.

“Bed,” she said against his mouth.

“Yes, ma’am.” He moved back just a little as he freed his legs from his pants. She only had a second to admire him in all his naked glory before he stepped forward and grabbed her.

She gasped, startled as his hands gripped her waist and he pulled her up off the table. Her legs automatically wrapped around his hips as he carried her through the cabin.

Logan was pretty sure nothing had ever felt better than when he slid inside of Abby’s body. Her back arched off the bed and she clutched at his shoulders, her nails biting into his skin.

He buried his face in her neck as he stilled, letting her adjust around him before he started to move. He also took the moment to try to get a little bit of control over himself.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined what this would be like for months now, and his imagination was nothing close to the reality.

Abby was perfection. The whole damn package.

The thing was, she wasn’t his typical package. He liked tall, leggy blondes. Abby Fields was none of those things.

She was better.

He pulled back and looked down into those bright blue eyes of hers, eyes that he hadn’t been able to get out of his head since he’d first seen her. He ran one of his hands up her side, tracing those curves that filled out those skirts she loved to wear, and to her breasts that were more than a generous handful. He knew this from personal experience as he’d now had them in his hands tonight.

She had a pretty remarkable hourglass figure, if he did say so himself.

And he did.

But those weren’t his mission at the moment. No, he wanted his hands in her hair. She always wore it pinned up, not a strand out of place. Well, it was more than ruffled now; the red strands were spread out across the pillows in a glorious mess.

She pulled her legs up and wrapped them around his waist, her bare feet pressing into his lower back. He lowered his mouth to hers, needing to taste her on his tongue as he began to move his hips. Pulling out before he’d slowly sink back in.

He’d been foolish to try to resist this, try to resist her. He’d been fighting a losing battle. Actually no, that wasn’t true.

He’d finally won.

“Oh God, Logan.” Abby pulled back and moaned his name, long and low, her limbs tightening around him as she started to move, seeking more friction. “Harder. Please!”

Well, she was just full of surprises tonight. And who was he to deny her what they both clearly wanted.

He grabbed her hands, his fingers locking with hers as he pinned them to the bed above their heads.

“This okay?” he asked.

She nodded, licking her lips as she continued to move her hips.

“Perfect,” he said as he thrust inside of her.

Her eyes closed as her entire body arched up and she pressed her head back into the pillow. He pulled out before he pushed back in, harder just like she wanted. He wasn’t sure how long they moved like that, wasn’t sure how long he was lost in her, before her hands tightened in his and she was no longer moaning his name.

Nope, she was screaming it. She lost it beneath him, her body tightening around his and setting off his own chain of events.

Logan buried his face in Abby’s neck, inhaling the scent of her as he caught his breath. When he pulled back a moment later, she gave him a sleepy smile.

“I’ll be right back.” He kissed her mouth before he reluctantly pulled from her body and went to the bathroom.

When he stepped back into the room a couple of minutes later, it was to find Abby sitting up in bed. The sheet was wrapped around her chest, and her auburn hair was sticking out like a messy halo.

He looked at her scattered garments on the floor. The thigh-high stockings that he’d peeled her out of with his teeth, her lace underwear, and those damn red shoes.

There were little bows on the backs and they’d been driving Logan out of his fucking mind all night. But she always wore heels, so they therefore always drove him out of his fucking mind.

She always drove him out of his fucking mind.

His eyes came up and focused on her as she shifted, her naked legs moving against the sheets. It was that awkward moment after of do I stay, or do I go?

He wanted her to stay.

“So this cabin gets a little drafty at night.”

Her mouth quirked to the side. “That so?”

“Yeah.” He crossed the room to the bed, placing both of his hands on either side of her. “So in an effort to conserve body heat, you should sleep in here.”

“Smart.” She nodded, running her hand up his bare chest.

“Besides,” he said as he leaned forward, gently pushing her back down onto the bed. He followed, hovering over her as he pressed his mouth to hers. “I’m not even remotely finished with you.”