Logan by Melissa Schroeder

against her tender skin sent heat rushing through her.  
    “Is that a fact?” she asked, leaning her head to give him better access.  
    “Hmm.”  
    His lips vibrated against her flesh. She closed her eyes as he slipped his hand down to her breast. She was only wearing a nightgown and robe. His large hand covered her breast as his talented artist’s fingers teased her nipple.  
    Then, he was gone. One moment he was turning her into mush, then he was pulling away. She opened her eyes and frowned at him, but he gestured with his head to the doorway.  
    “What?” she asked grumpily. Her body craved his touch.  
    “Wait for it.” He handed her the coffee cup.  
    In the next instant, Maggie and Angus appeared in the doorway.  
    “Oh.”  
    His lips twitched, “Yeah, oh.”  
    “We’re off. Got the phone. Text us the address to the restaurant.”  
    Angus waved at them, as he followed his wife out of the apartment.  
    “Well, we’re all alone in this big, fancy apartment,” Logan said with a smile, as he started walking toward her. Before she could respond, he took the coffee cup from her hands and put it on the counter.  
    “Hey, I need caffeine.”  
    “I have a jolt for your system,” he said, grabbing her by the waist and turning to plop her down on the counter. He started to kiss his way down her body, and she decided she liked Logan’s jolt better than any cup of coffee.  
     

CHAPTER TWELVE
     
    They made it up to the bedroom at some point. She wasn’t sure exactly when or how. The man had put her into some kind of sexual haze. It made her lose track of all sense and time.  
    She sat up and looked around her bedroom. Clothes from the night before, along with the clothes from today, were strewn all over the place. Her bed looked like World War III had been conducted on top of it. The man was going to be the death of her.  
    Speaking of which, she was wondering where he was. She was about to call for him, but he stepped into the room. He’d pulled on his pants, and that was it. He held a tray with food in his hands and was carrying something beneath his arm.  
    “About time you woke, Meghan. I had to forage for food all by myself.”  
    She smiled, as he set the tray down on the mattress beside her. He leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers.  
    “Well, you are the man, so I think that’s part of the job.”  
    “I thought with your abilities, you would have been able to blink a feast up.”  
    She frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”  
    He set a sketch pad down and crossed his arms. He blinked. “Like that.”  
    “I am not a genie. What do you expect, me to dress up like Barbara Eden and live in a bottle?”  
    “I don’t care about the bottle, but the outfit…now that might be nice.”  
    She laughed. “Logan McLennan, you are horrible. Besides, as often as you take my clothes off me, I assumed you could care less what I’m wearing.”  
    He chuckled and sat down in the chair by her bed.  
    “What are you doing over there?” she asked, pulling a grape free of the stem.  
    Logan grabbed the sketch pad and settled back against the chair. “I want a little space.”  
    She frowned at him. “I didn’t give you permission.”  
    “I didn’t ask,” he said, his concentration on whatever he was working on.  
    “That’s rude.”  
    He grunted, but continued working. She ate the selection of fruit and cheese he’d brought her. The man did have taste, and he knew exactly what she liked. He paid attention…and took care. Meg wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She didn’t get close enough to the men in her life for them to know too much about her.  
    Or take care of her.  
    “Don’t look like that.”  
    Logan practically barked the order.  
    “Like what?”  
    “Like you’ve sucked on a lemon.”  
    She shook her head and went back to eating. The only sound in the room was his pencil moving over the paper.  
    “Why