Chapter 5

He drove his hands in my hair, pulling it free from the pins, tangling his fists in my fiery locks.

I clutched at him, digging  my fingers into his shoulders allowing him to deepen the kiss.

He tasted wonderful and forbidden. He tasted like delicious sin.

Kissing him didn't feel good enough, she pushed herself into him, trying to get closer, despite the fact that she was already entwined in his arms.

He lifted his head, pulling me closer to him and groaning as I fitted myself against his lower body.

Angling his head, he claimed my mouth again.

His kiss deepened, it got more savage. Filling me with fire, filling me with heat.

He spread his fingers along my hips, cupping my bottom and pressing me more tightly to him.

" Logan," I gasped. I felt him grow harder at the sound of his name on my lips.

" I want you," he whispered. His  voice was hoarse and gravelly with need.

" Here. Now. I want you. 

On the table, on the floor." I don't care.

" Yes."  I  whispered.

That was all the encouragement he needed.

My pulse jumped as he lifted me up onto the desk and moving between my legs.

My blood began to spin as he curled his fingers around my ankles.

His fingers started to move.

His hands were hard and warm as he ran them up along my calves, over my thighs, pushing the hem of my skirt up until it puddled around my hips.

The fax machine hummed on the table just a few feet away, rattling the glasses of wine, sitting on the table beside it.

I barely heard any of that, above the frantic beating of my heart, and the roar of desire in my blood.

I could feel the threads of control slipping fast.

My breath hitched as his fingers stroked me through my panties. All thoughts tumbled from my head. Closing my hands, I held onto him trembling as he continued the rhythmic stroking with his fingers while his clever mouth created havoc with my lips and tongue.

Surrendering to the dizzying heat and feel of his touch, I clutched at his shoulders. Waves of pleasure slammed into me and nearly stole my breath away. Shuddering, I nearly wept as Logan continued to touch me, continuing to pleasure me with his hands and mouth, sending spiraling over peak after peak.

Just when I was sure, I was going to faint with the sheer joy of his touch. Logan withdrew his hand. His hand abandoning that sensitive spot below my chin.

Weak, my body still sensitized, I swayed.

"Logan…. " I started.

I sucked in a breath, my hands curling into fists as I felt his mouth on me, his tongue wet and hot, stroking me through the silk of my panties.

It was erotic and decadent.

It was wonderful and wicked.

It wasn't enough.

I wanted more.  I wanted him.

" Layla."  My  name was a desperate plea on his lips a he lifted his head and pushed to his feet.

" Look at me." He commanded.

I opened my eyes and stared at his face. His gorgeous blue eyes were as wild as the sea, during a raging storm.

He cupped my bottom, squeezing with his fingers and pressed me against him.

He was aroused, rock hard and heavy. I felt his buckle digging at my waist, the teeth of his metal zipper brushed against my inner thigh.

Desire already wound tight in my belly, grew tighter still.

" Logan." I gasped as he tore away the silk of my panties and spread my thighs apart.

" I want you." He whispered hoarsely as he plunged into him.

              ********************************

An hour later, I'm wrapped in a bathrobe, a size too big, sitting at the kitchen table eating a peanut butter sandwich and drinking chardonnay.

" That was nice." I say as I take a sip of wine.

" Nice?"  He asks arching a brow.

"Amazingly awesome." I say with a huge grin.

" That's better."  He says grinning back at me.

" Is that one of yours?" I ask, pointing at a book on the chair across from me.

" Yes." He says, handing it to me.

I smile as I run my fingers across the spine.

I open it to read the dedication.

I know it's silly, but I always read book dedications first.

To Emily Stanford. It says.

The best mother in the world

Thank you for being my first fan.

" That's so sweet." I say looking up at him.

" Why do you and your mother have different surnames."

" My father died when I was three, my mother remarried Jason Stanford two years later. 

He adopted me, but didn't want me to change my name to his.

Something about continuingmy father's legacy."

No.

This can't be happening.

" Surely not Jason Stanford of Greenbay corporation?" I ask, actively praying for a negative answer.

" The one and the same. Do you know him?"

I jump to my feet.

" How dare you?" I ask

" I despise you. Did you and your father have to stoop so low."

I rush up the stairs to the study, to get my clothes.

" What are you talking about." He says, hurrying after me."

" You can go back and tell your deplorable father."  I say as I forcibly jerk into my clothes.

" That land is never going to be his."

" He upended our lives, killed my father and put my mother in a wheelchair, he took everything we had, but that land is never going to belong to him. 

You can tell him that."