Under His Skin. Nicola Marsh

in a million years would she have expected him to discover her dirty little secret: that she didn’t wear underwear most days.

      Being so daring was her one concession whilst living a well-ordered life. It made her feel a little bad when her entire life she’d been so very good. A way of cutting free from the constraints of her past. A way to prove, albeit to herself, that she held all the power and was in control of her own destiny.

      The more refined guys she usually dated had been repulsed by her lack of constraint. Logan had been turned on big time, the focus being on big.

      He’d felt huge through his jeans and she’d been so close to riding that bad boy. She needed the release so badly...

      The throb between her legs became insistent so Hope did the only thing possible: she locked up, picked up her mobile and headed for the bathroom.

      It didn’t take her long to find what she needed: the picture of Logan on his company’s website.

      The photo didn’t do him justice. Neither did the suit. She preferred how he’d looked today: a little rough around the edges with his scruffy dark-blond hair skimming his collar, his shirt sleeves rolled up, that denim hugging his ass and those eyes so penetratingly blue she could’ve sworn he could see right through her.

      She leaned against the hand basin and stared into those eyes, remembering how he’d looked at her the moment before he’d kissed her. As if he wanted to ravage her.

      She’d enjoyed taunting him, had liked how he stood up to her and gave as good as he got.

      Her gaze drifted to his mouth as her hand drifted lower, her fingers seeking her clit. She was so wet, thanks to him.

      She stared at his lips and remembered the feel of his tongue in her mouth, skilled and sure, and imagined what it could do where her middle finger zeroed in on now. Her pulse raced, the lightness in her chest making her feel as if she were floating as she circled her clit over and over, her excitement escalating too quickly. She didn’t care. She needed a release and, with the man who’d wound her up gone, she needed it now.

      Breathless, she started panting a little. Her eyes drifted shut for a moment as she imagined Logan’s fingers touching her, Logan’s tongue licking her, Logan’s dick inside her... She tensed and came on a soft moan, sagging against the basin.

      When she opened her eyes, he was still there, staring at her from that photo, looking way too smug and self-controlled.

      He’d got her so wound up that she’d just masturbated away from home for the first time.

      Time to ruffle him as much as he’d ruffled her.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      LOGAN HAD DOUBLE-CHECKED the quote twice before firing it off to Hope an hour ago.

      Considering he’d already fucked up by kissing her, he didn’t want there to be any potential problems with this job.

      Not that he expected any, as she’d been as into that unexpected make-out session as he had, but it still didn’t sit right that he’d crossed the line with a client.

      ‘Hey, bozo, what’s happening?’ Rick, his foreman, slapped him on the back as he slid onto a bar stool opposite. ‘You know I can’t drink when I’m on pain meds so why the hell did you ask me to meet you at a pub?’

      ‘To torture you, of course.’ Logan raised his schooner in a cheer. ‘What are you having? Lemonade? Cola? Soda water?’

      ‘Fuck you.’ Rick flipped him the bird. ‘Get me a light beer. That way I’ll only get half-pissed when it mixes with the meds.’

      ‘Dickhead.’ Logan headed for the bar and ordered Rick a lemon, lime and bitters, glad he’d invited his old mate here tonight. He needed the distraction. Sitting here rehashing what he’d done with Hope wouldn’t help anybody, least of all himself.

      When he placed the drink in front of Rick on the small round table between them, his friend groaned. ‘You’re not my mother. Get me a real drink.’

      ‘No can do, mate. You’re the best foreman in the country and I need you on deck sooner rather than later, so let the meds do their work and that means sticking to soda for you.’

      Rick grunted, took a sip and wrinkled his nose. ‘Fucking lolly water.’

      ‘Bottoms up.’ Logan took a gulp of his beer and ignored Rick’s woebegone expression.

      ‘So what do you think of the new job I emailed you?’

      Rick gave a thumbs-up. ‘Looks good. We’ve done a few of those recording studios now. You must be getting a reputation.’

      A bad one, if Hope ever blabbed to anyone about that kiss.

      ‘They’re lucrative, that’s for sure.’ Rick took another sip and made a gagging sound. ‘Though the quote seemed high. Is there a problem?’

      Logan shook his head. ‘The owner was being a bit of a smart-ass so I upped the ante, expecting she’d cave. She didn’t, so now we’re going to make a healthy profit.’

      ‘Uh-oh.’ Rick’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’ve got the hots for her.’

      ‘Don’t be a dumb-ass,’ Logan said, unable to meet his mate’s eyes and opting for looking into his beer glass instead.

      ‘You do like her!’ Rick made an odd triumphant, crowing sound. ‘You always like the ones with the smart mouths because they challenge you, so if you charged her that much she must’ve really got to you.’

      ‘Maybe a little,’ he admitted begrudgingly, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face. ‘She’s a firecracker all right. Ice princess one minute, fiery the next.’

      Rick imitated playing a violin. ‘Look at you, all smitten kitten.’

      ‘Bullshit.’ Logan downed the rest of his beer. ‘Don’t mind me while I go get another alcoholic beverage.’

      Rick flipped him the bird again and Logan laughed. He liked the company’s Melbourne jobs for this reason: he got to hang out with his best mate. They’d known each other for twelve years, after he’d met Rick on the first day of his apprenticeship in the city. He’d been a naïve eighteen-year-old who loved building stuff; Rick had been a thirty-year-old electrician on the same job. They’d been mates ever since. Logan trusted Rick when he didn’t trust many people in this world.

      When his construction company had started taking off, he’d offered Rick the job of head foreman on all jobs in Melbourne. It gave him peace of mind, knowing Rick had his back when Logan travelled the country doing quotes. He had a good, reliable work team in each major city but Rick was the only guy who would never screw him over.

      ‘Seriously, mate, how’s the back?’

      Rick screwed up his nose, held up his hand and wavered it side to side. ‘The anti-inflammatories did the trick in the first week and I’m weaning myself off the pain meds now. I’m seeing Madame Lash, the torturous physio, three times a week, and Doc wants to review at the end of the week.’

      ‘Cut the cookie-cutter medical spiel.’ Logan rested his forearms on the table and leaned forward. ‘How are you feeling?’

      ‘Shitty from being cooped up at home and not on the job site but otherwise okay. The back really is improving.’

      Logan nodded. ‘Good to hear.’

      ‘So tell me more about this client.’ Rick slipped his mobile out of his pocket and scrolled through his emails. ‘Hope McWilliams. Fancy-schmancy name.’

      For a fancy-schmancy woman. Logan had never met anyone like her. Sure, he mingled with the rich on occasion. Being a successful CEO of a major construction company ensured he got