Unmistakably Us (Imagine Ink Book 5) Read online

  It was uncomfortable to be touched in a way he had never realized he craved by a brother he wasn’t sure he even wanted to know.

  It was also disconcerting. Any time a male relative had complimented him and slapped him on the back, it was because Logan had something they needed or they were about to lose their temper and take it out on him. Or in the case of his Uncle Russ, well, he needed an accomplice in case he got caught.

  Uncle Russ had used him more than once to blame a petty crime on. He sold the sob story about him being on disability but taking in the son of his dead murderer of a brother like a champ. Crying to the cops about how he tried to raise him right and he could barely feed him and himself but he did the best he could, blah, blah, blah. Boo-fucking-hoo. Uncle Russ was no more disabled than I was.

  Of course, small town living at its finest. Uncle Russ deserved a fucking trophy case full of Oscars. After the cops would leave with a “you’re doing the best you can” to Russ, and “next time I won’t let you off so easy” to Logan, Russ would cane the shit out of him for getting caught.

  A trip down that particular memory lane was not what Logan needed tonight. He needed a drink and a dirty blonde, a very flexible dirty blonde. One who was about to take the stage at Pole Position.

  “I appreciate the offer, man, but I have plans tonight.” Logan disengaged himself from the hold that was freaking him out and causing his emotions to go bipolar and hustled toward the hangar door.

  He was almost free, but John halted his escape. “Hot date tonight?”

  Three simple words in the form of a question, but with suspicion woven around them. Logan was sure January wouldn’t have mentioned his frequent visits to the club to John. Augusta maybe, sisters and all, but not John. He had shown some interest in her when she came by the hangar or when they’d been at gatherings, but not more than friendly interest. Certainly not to the point to raise John’s attention.

  Logan decided it was his own guilt making him hear something that wasn’t there. He’d been thinking some pretty dirty shit about her all day long. The overarching theme of the day had to do with her pretty face smashed into a pillow. Her elegant hands tied in a perfect but simple square knot at the small of her back. And him watching her ass ripple as he pounded her from behind using the knot to aid his advance and retreat.

  Eventually he could see the rope above her elbows and elsewhere. The intricacy of the knotted fiber against her pale skin would be a work of art. Erotic art. The teeth of his zipper started abrading the sensitive skin as his cock swelled. The piercing was causing friction as his problem grew.

  When he adjusted his cock and experienced slight relief from the bite of the metal teeth and abrasive cotton fibers, he realized he was lost in thought, and John and Michael were waiting for an answer.

  “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell or tell then kiss. Either way…rain check?”

  This time, he made it to the door before he had to explain further.

  Three

  Just as she expected, Logan was sitting at his usual spot. He seemed to favor the narrow ledge attached to the front of the stage that served as a table. What she didn’t expect was his level of attentiveness. He always watched her with an intensity that weakened her knees. If she wasn’t in full Domino mode, she could have never borne the weight of his gaze. January wasn’t comfortable with that kind of attention, any attention really.

  She had spent most her life trying to blend. She’d loved the gymnastics, ballet, tap, and even piano, which her parents insisted she study, but she hated competing. Everyone staring, listening, searching for any little flaw they could find, then passing judgment. That’s why she gave that all up when she went to college.

  However, she discovered that when it was her choice, she didn’t mind it as much. That didn’t mean she was comfortable with the attention, but she was learning. As Domino though, she flourished in the spotlight. It was a double-edged sword that Domino was becoming a part of her, because the end was near.

  Her overbearing mother and douche of a husband would murder Domino soon. Hopefully, I can hide a piece of her away deep inside where no one can find her, and when it’s all over, she can shine as a true part of me.

  The touch of Logan’s gaze felt like a lover’s caress, gentle and exploring. Then, when the intensity of the music amplified her movements, it became rough, like the grip of a lover desperate with need. One who was seconds away from fucking his partner against the nearest horizontal or vertical surface.

  Fast and hard.

  January’s steps faltered as images of Logan fucking her up against a wall flooded her brain. God, she wanted that, needed it. Craved it to the point she had already told her sister not to expect her home. She wasn’t sure she was brave enough to go for it. Sure, she could wait until she was leaving and he’d make the first move, as always. But she wanted it to be different for some reason. Wanted him to see her differently.

  It shouldn’t matter, you dingus. It can’t go anywhere. You fuck him, you come, you leave. It doesn’t matter if he thinks you’re a mousy prude or a dirty slut. You’ll be gone in no time, and he’ll be fucking his next stripper.

  That thought both rankled and comforted her, but either way, she wanted this experience to be unlike anything else in her life. So, what he thought did matter as far as that went. If he saw her as a mouse, he may treat her like one.

  That simply wouldn’t do. Not with Logan. Not for an experience she was hanging a decade on. Everyone would treat her like a mouse or expect her to be a mouse for years to come. Tonight, she would be a tiger.

  She had watched him ignore the waitresses and other dancers all night. As a rule, he was a flirt and a half. Always brushing the waitresses’ wrist as she delivered a beer. Winking at the dancers as he tucked a ten into their g-string.

  It was that inattention on them and laser-focus attention on her that had the idea of him and her and tangled sheets cemented in her brain.

  It was her last dance of the night, and it was now or never. January always approached his direction, she had no choice because of where he sat, but she never lingered. He wasn’t tipping, and the level of eye contact he maintained when she approached, was panty-melting.

  January walked his way in a toe-dragging, seductive stutter step. For once, he leaned up to the stage the way most men did. Waiting. Wanting to get close enough to touch before Ruger reminded them to keep their hands to themselves.

  Darting a quick glance toward the bouncer when he tensed, Domino gave him an almost imperceptible nod, letting him know she had it handled if Logan got out of control. When Ruger relaxed back against the wall, her focus returned to the man she wanted for a night.

  Once she was directly in front of him, she didn’t break eye contact. That wasn’t easy to do for a girl taught to be demure and told to coyly avert her gaze. Fuck that, Domino wasn’t taught shit. Demure never gets what it wants, not from a man like that.

  She dropped to her knees, framing him between them. A few hip grinds, and his focus dropped where she expected. He missed her dragging her arms under her hair and pushing her breasts together with her forearms as she brought her hands back down.

  Some unknown force seemed to inhabit her body, because without realizing what she was doing, his face was in her hands. His eyes finally lifted from between her legs. With a wink, she forced it right back by pretty much planting his face between her thighs before shoving it backward. The stunned but heated look on his face was worth breaking a few policies.

  Good thing the management here at Pole Position didn’t exactly give a shit about laws or policies or anything else. It wasn’t like she was dancing at Cinnamon River on the beach.

  Ruger was the only one who cared, and he kept unwanted contact off the girls, but if they wanted to touch the customers, he stayed out of it as long as the dancers didn’t break any major laws that would get them shut down.

  While Logan was catching flies, Domino made a show of dancing upright so no other customer
s got pissed. Time to seal the deal. As gracefully as she could, she found herself on her back, one knee up and her head off the stage, with her blonde hair pooling on his thighs.

  “So, you going to tip me tomorrow night?”

  It took a while for Logan to realize she had spoken to him; his confusion was there on his handsome face. While he got up to speed, Domino writhed and caressed herself in time with the bass. If the moans from the trucker to the right were any indication, she was conveying the correct message.

  Another blink and Logan spoke. “I’ve already explain—” She halted his words with a finger across his lips while her other hand continued to knead her breast.

  From this angle, he looked…delicious, or maybe it was in her head. Either way, she wanted him even more. “Yes, I know, paying to fuck me and all that, but if I’ve already fucked you, it won’t be payment, now will it?” His confusion was priceless. “Think about it, big boy,” she added with a lip bite. She winked again and slid the single finger still resting at his lips down to close his mouth before rolling over, pushing to her feet, and hitting the pole for the last thirty seconds of the song.

  When she exited the stage, she risked a glance back at Logan. He was still sitting there shocked and staring at her ass as she strutted away.

  Once behind the curtain, she found the nearest solid wall and slid down it to the floor. Her head dropped to her hands as what she had said and done registered. The January part of her shoved forward, and her embarrassment flared.

  Platinum was standing in the dark between the parted curtains at the back of the runway. Right next to where January sat. She was up next, waiting for her music cue and the spotlight.

  “Whoa, you must have brought the heat tonight, because Mr. Tall, Dark, and Do Me is adjusting his crotch and staring at the stage like he is reliving the greatest moment of his life.”

  “Oh, God.” January breathed. Hearing Platinum talk reminded her why she didn’t want to sleep with him in the first place. She couldn’t go through with it now. He was a grade-A man whore. He had slept with half the dancers and practically all the waitresses.

  It had cut her deeper than it should have every time she watched him leave with another woman. Including Platinum. The slut.

  “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, I forgot y’all did the dirty dance. I’ll back off.” The words tasted like acid, but it was for the best.

  “Ha. I wish.”

  What? Did I hear that correctly?

  “But I saw you leave with him one night. Looked like you were all over each other.” January was confused.

  “Yes and no. He seemed to be ready to go until we got in the car and headed for his room. We got there, and he thanked me for the ride home—I guess his car crapped out on him—and that was it. Asshole. But I would give him another chance in a heartbeat. Have you seen that dick print?”

  An electric guitar punctuated her words, and the spotlight flooded the area with light. Before she started her strut, Platinum added, “If you take a ride on that rocket, girlfriend, I want details, including exact measurements. My money is on double digits.”

  With that, Platinum was gone and so was the harsh white light. Instead, the area was flooded with jittering red and blue lights. January leaned over and chanced a peek into the bar. Logan sat there almost exactly as she left him, except now, he stared at his beer which was placed right in front of the cock Platinum believed to be an easy ten.

  Jerking her head back, she bit her lip to keep from squealing. Her celebration was short-lived because Platinum wasn’t the only girl he’d left with, and it was naïve of her to think he didn’t sleep with any of them. Since she had first-hand knowledge of some of the dancer’s personal policies on condoms, she would have to sneak out to avoid Logan all together.

  The best way to get out was while Platinum was still on stage. She was the last dancer tonight. The room would be darker, and all focus would be on her and her amazing rack. January darted up, shedding her costume—what was left of it—on her way to the dressing room.

  Skipping underwear to save time, she pulled on her capri leggings commando. Same with her, VOCABULARY OF A WELL-EDUCATED SAILOR tee. Screw a bra, time mattered more than jiggle. The song was winding down. She needed to go…NOW!

  Shouldering her backpack, she exited the dressing room into the back hallway. She spotted the back door and freedom. She just got past the bathrooms when light flooded the hallway. Oh shit, lights on, dancing’s done, I need to scoot. As a rule, everyone’s attention turned that way as soon as the lights came on and there wasn’t a dancer to focus on helping them forget they needed to take a piss for the last twenty minutes.

  Hand on the handle and escape within reach, a touch of panic assaulted her. January darted through the door faster than shit and manually pushed it closed instead of waiting for it to do so on its own. Breathing a sigh of relief, she closed her eyes and relaxed back—half against the door, half against building. Not the most comfortable of places, but she was free of the interior, and that’s all the mattered.

  “Running away, Little Rabbit?”

  “Shit!” January damn near jumped out of her skin. Her hands flew to her chest in some pre-programmed response as if to hold it back before it hammered free.

  The voice that could melt her panties, if she were wearing them, was instantly recognizable. Still, her eyes sought out the origin of it. Logan was leaned against the brick like the Marlboro Man. One leg bent with foot flat against the wall. Arms crossed in front of his impressive chest. The only thing missing from the picture was the cowboy hat.

  January was too startled to move, an affliction that didn’t seem to extend to Logan. She stared as he pushed off the wall and fully turned her way. She took inventory of every motion, appreciating the play of every muscle through the pull and stretch of his clothes.

  The man was certainly well put together. She had already begun to regret not getting to experience him, at least once.

  His chest got bigger and bigger, no, closer and closer. Suddenly, she found her back pressed back into the brick surface and her front pressed into him.

  His hand made a hollow slap as it landed on the metal door by one ear. January turned toward it, noticing how work-worn and tan it appeared around the tattoos. Before she could turn back, his hot mouth was burning the cords of her neck with biting kisses.

  A moan was ripped from her lips as he continued his assault on her neck and guided her leg up his thigh with his other tattooed hand. Her hips ground forward without instruction from her conscious mind. She could definitely imagine double digits.

  In a flash, his lips were gone, and his hips still. Opening her eyes and turning his direction, she met his liquid amber and melted chocolate stare. “Why?” was all he asked.

  January entertained the idea of playing dumb and pretending it was just part of her dance, but they were both better than that. Honesty—Lord knows she respected it and had a suspicion he did too.

  “Have you slept with half the women here?” If that didn’t cool his jets, and hers, nothing would. Men hated jealousy, especially from a woman they hadn’t even closed the deal with. His look was challenging.

  The hand beside her head slowly slid down to her shoulder. Logan raised a questioning eyebrow. Whatever the query he intended, it was rhetorical as his hand continued to migrate south at an infuriatingly slow pace. His gaze remained steady and piercing.

  When he reached her breast, the pressure of his touch increased, but he didn’t linger. Didn’t slow. The friction was delightful. January knew the moment her hasty wardrobe choice became apparent to Logan. The fire in his eyes flared before he blinked in slow motion.

  The groan that accompanied that knowledge was ecstasy to her ears, but he remained focused on his destination. His blinking stopped again, and the intensity of his stare ramped up a few notches.

  Down her belly, just past the hem of her shirt, almost exactly where she ached for his touch. For the first time along his journey, his hand pau
sed. The challenge in his eyes turned to cocky confidence. As he spoke, his hand changed direction, heading for her waistband. One finger went under the band and teased the skin there.

  “Does it matter what my answer is when I can make you feel like this?” January was about to shove his cocky ass away as soon as he uttered the word matter, but the rest of his hand joined the finger, and headed south, robbing her of words.

  The only vocalization she was capable of was a needy moan. A condition they shared. Logan thrust a finger inside her. They each uttered a breathless, “Fuck.”

  With shocking speed, Logan had her spun around, cheek pressed against the abrasive brick wall and the metal door. The texture of the brick added dimension to the other sensations assaulting her. The contrast sent a shiver coursing down her spine. The heat of the abrasion juxtaposed the coolness of the door’s surface coated in the salt tang scent of the nearby gulf.

  Logan gathered her arms behind her, encouraging her to fold them at the elbow. “Grab your forearms and don’t let go,” he rasped in her ear before clamping down on it with his teeth. She was compelled to comply, not because he was forcing her to, but because something deep inside her desired to.

  Logan’s grip on her interlocked arms was borderline painful, but not quite. Enough so, she understood he demanded compliance, but gentle enough that she was confident he wouldn’t force her to stay longer than she was comfortable.

  One hand returned to the front of her leggings, and he released her ear only to clamp down on her neck, then soothe it with kisses. His thumb circled her clit at a maddening pace, too slow to come, but too fast to focus on anything else. The two fingers inside her pumped in and out…exploring.

  Logan caressed her pussy in a way no man had ever bothered before. He was on the hunt, and he didn’t seem like the type to go home empty-handed. He would find what he was looking for. She could bank on it.