I’m Logan Mitchell, and I hold many secrets in my greedy hands.
They bow at my feet. Do what I ask and come back for more.
But Ellie Wynn, I don’t want her bowing, I want her to kneel.
She thought our time together was one night, a twist of fate.
How wrong she was.
Ellie has been mine since the day I saw her.
Little does she know, it wasn’t that night. It was years ago.
Well before I even understood she was mine.
One taste, one touch, one kiss, and it wasn’t enough.
Not for me.
I’m prepared to fight dirty, and I plan to succeed.
Lies, deceit, and betrayal.
You should be.
“You’ve got a quick mouth on you, Ellie. I like it. It makes me wonder what else it can do.”
The intensity grows in his eyes while his words hit me between my thighs.
The night he brought me here, he melted my panties. Tonight, no matter how much he tries charming me, they won’t be coming off.
“You’ll never know.”
“We both know I will.”
No, he will not.
“Speaking of having a quick mouth. Here’s something you can chew on and swallow. I won’t submit to anyone. If I want you, I’ll have you. If I don’t, I won’t. You, you’re a…”
Shit. I can’t even force the word, and I refuse to bend to his patronization. Him trying, pours more gasoline to the raging fire burning within.
“A male whore? Is that what you’re trying to say? I was one, Ellie. I haven’t been in almost a year.”
Possessiveness surges. Hard and heavy that it consumes my mind. I want to punch every woman he’s had before me. It’s a crazy notion when I don’t even know this man.
Logan takes hold of my hand that’s dangling at my side and drops a kiss across each of my knuckles, dancing eyes searching mine. His touch is soft, familiar, intimate, and my skin tingles where his lips graze.
“I sense there’s more your gorgeous mouth would like to say to me. Perhaps go to hell? Fuck off? Maybe what the hell is going on? Why was I at a dance club the night I brought you here and had the best sex of my life when I could have been at my club? Would you like to know what I’d like to say to you?”
No, I really wouldn’t. The man already has my mind traveling back in time. Right back to ten years ago.
“I’d like to tell you to get on your hands and knees, to spread those sweet thighs, pull my hair when I bury my tongue in between them. I’d like to know if our night together was as good for you as it was for me. I love to tell you to scream; only this time saying my name when I make you come.”
I roll my eyes and swallow, pressing my thighs together as memories of him asking me to do all but the last assault me in the spot his intention wanted to hit.
Logan Mitchell, I knew the name, but on him, I like it—Bossy, sexy, overly confident, dangerous.