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Closer: A Blind Date Bad Boy Romance by Cassandra Dee, Kendall Blake (71)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Logan

 

Three months later …

“So what’s been going on at Lance’s? Why are you there so often?” asked Patricia. It was the fucking inquisition again. Okay, so I’ve been hanging out at my brother’s place a lot … and it’s because Kacey’s moved into his apartment, sharing his big bed. It drives me nuts that he gets to fuck her whenever he wants and to make up for my lack of access, I’m over there a lot, burrowing into Kacey’s warm folds, making sure I get my share of that twat and ass.

But Patricia isn’t dumb. She knew something was up. And the thing was, I wasn’t exactly trying to hide it. I realized that I’d been caught in some kind of downward spiral. After Kathryn died, I’d been seriously depressed and unfortunately my illness had been untreated. I was like a high-functioning dead man … walking, talking, doing my job, making it rain financially, but inside I was a fucking mess.

I’d begun sleeping with Patricia because she was the opposite of Kathryn. Mean, vengeful, vicious, she was a cold viper but I wasn’t looking for warmth, love and laughter back then. If Patricia wanted to take, then I wasn’t going to stop her even if it included my body. And when she’d announced a miscarriage last year, I’d gone through the motions of consoling her, letting her move in, saying nothing as she quit her job and began living off my money.

So I wasn’t surprised she was all over me like a bloodhound, sniffing suspiciously. I mean, this woman wanted a ring on her finger and I’d stayed mum on that subject despite her obvious hints.

“Baby, doesn’t this one look so nice?” she’d ask, pointing to a DeBeers ad in a magazine. Or, “Honey, my girl friend just got one of those cushion cut diamonds and it’s gorgeous.” Shit like that. But I’d always mumbled something inconclusive in return and so far had managed to stay out of the line of fire.

Plus, the time I spent with Kacey was amazing, like a breath of fresh air in an otherwise stagnant existence. The girl was funny, irresistible, curvaceous and warm. We’d tried to convince her not to go back to the Donkey Club but so far hadn’t succeeded.

“Brothers, dancing is the only skill I have,” she’d said softly. “I can’t keep taking from you.”

“Why not?” asked Lance. “We have more than enough and you’re paying us in your own way,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her. Of course, he meant the abundant sex we’d been getting, the easy access to her luscious tits and twat.

“Oh Lance,” she said, giggling. “You’re ridiculous. But seriously, dancing is how I make a living. I can’t be a hundred percent dependent on you guys, it just doesn’t feel right.”

And you know what? I respected her for that. I liked the fact that Kacey was trying to stand on her own two feet, that even though we were offering a free ride she wanted to be an independent woman. Plus, I liked the fact that she knew herself – that stripping and her body were major assets she could bank during her twenties.

But we wanted to make sure she had a future too.

“Honey, how about if you just dance, and don’t whore? Is that possible at the Donkey Club?” I’d asked.

“Brothers,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “I stopped riding other men’s dicks the minute I took yours. I mean, no one else has fifteen inches so how could they compare?” she said with a shy smile. And entranced by her provocative teasing, we’d pounced on the little girl, engaging in another deep, diligent round of pounding.

And so I’d taken to showering at Lance’s after sex, but that’s almost just as suspicious to Patricia’s keen eye. I mean, why would I need to shower at my brother’s apartment? He had air conditioning and it wasn’t like I was using his gym.

But she was willfully ignoring my clues, and instead asked, “Logan, what do you want for dinner? I ordered in two of your favorites: spare ribs and steak.”

Patricia had never cooked as long as I could remember. In fact, even ordering in was a signal that she wanted something. But I just mumbled something inconclusive, passing her on the way to the bedroom.

She followed me, her silhouette painfully thin, like an x-ray moving through the apartment. Did she get enough to eat? I wondered for a moment if she was starving herself. In fact, I was starting to doubt that she’d ever been pregnant, truth be told. You can’t possibly be fertile if you never eat.

But Patricia didn’t say anything, instead brushing off my suit jacket, picking off some stray lint. I thought I saw a long blonde hair fall to the floor, but it could have been my imagination. I turned to her impatiently and barked, “Quit with the caring wife routine okay? You’ve never been particularly domestic or warm, so I find your efforts hypocritical and fake. Stop,” I commanded.

The viper hissed at me, literally hissed, her black eyebrows rising like evil points.

“What do you want?” she said nastily. “I was there for you when you were feeling down and now you don’t reward me?”

“Reward you with what? An engagement ring?” I growled. “Listen, any number of women would have put out even if I was a drunk, depressed mess back then. Hell, I could have gone to a professional and gotten my needs taken care of, so don’t overrate what you offered.” Looking back, I wish I had used a professional, it would have been easier considering the mess I was in now.

But it was too late.

“You’re going to regret it,” hissed Patricia again, her green eyes freezing with cold, dead heat. “Trust me, you will,” she said before flouncing off into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Because we’d actually never shared a bedroom, I couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping next to that ice princess, she might stab me in the heart as I slumbered. And I sure as hell hadn’t fucked her in months, certainly not since Kacey had come into our lives.

So I walked back into the kitchen, helping myself to the spare ribs as I contemplated my future. The thing is, interacting with Kacey had clarified so much. The blonde was warm and loving, everything I was looking for in a woman, with a sweetness and light that lit up my world. Patricia was the opposite, a dark, shadowy presence that brought out the worst in me. I wanted the bitch out of my life, and the question was how to do it pronto.