Logan shrugged out of his jacket, flung off his tie, and threw both items across the living area of his suite. It was tempting to send the tray of champagne, strawberries, and hors d'oeuvres the same way. How satisfying would it be to see the bottle smash against the wall, disfiguring the fine work of art on display there. That painting mocked him with its display of light and hope for the future depicted by the couple walking hand in hand towards the sunset. Who did shit like that in real life anyway? So-called love never lasted.

He poured himself a generous measure of Macallan 21-year-old, malt whisky, and stared out at the unparalleled view of London’s skyline this suite afforded, while he dow

ned the liquid in one go. The burn down his throat proved a welcome distraction from the dark mood Rosamunde’s phone call had placed him in. What did a man have to do to get decent help these days? References meant diddly squat it seemed, and while he was more than aware how difficult the situation at home was, he sure as fuck didn’t need constant reminders.

What he needed was curvy little Hannah under him, so that he could lose himself in her sighs and moans while he tortured her with pleasure. Thoughts like that were not helping his current state one iota. While his hard-on had considerably lessened during that fraught telephone call, just picturing Hannah in that sinful dress brought his cock back to full speed in record time. So not what he needed, especially as it was getting damn obvious that she wasn’t coming. The auctions ought to be finished by now, and even if she had gone back in the ballroom to oversee—and knowing her work ethic that was no doubt what she had done—she ought to have knocked on his door by now.

Face it, Logan, you’re losing your touch.

Logan scowled at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, while he rubbed his dick in an effort to get some relief. There was only one thing for it. With Hannah being a no show and his having no appetite to go cruising for anyone else to keep him company tonight—he wanted the curvy blonde, damn it—he’d have to take matters in his own hands. Logan turned the rainfall shower on, stripped off his clothes, and stepped into the walk-in enclosure. Making good use of the complimentary shower gel, he slicked his hands, grasped his rock-hard dick and pumped. Not enough, not by any means. Eyes closed against the hot spray, he fisted himself harder, faster, and bit back a grunt. In his mind’s eye, it was Hannah he saw, on her knees in front of him, her long blonde tresses darkening under the water, her dress appearing transparent as her lush lips wrapped around his shaft. Yeah, much better.

“That’s my girl, suck me good.” Logan grumbled the command out loud, and fantasy Hannah hollowed out her cheeks and sucked hard. Pleasure surged through him, hot, hard, immediate, and he grunted his approval as he splayed his fingers and alternated the pressure on his dick. It wasn’t his fingers he saw behind his closed lids, but Hannah’s. So real was his fantasy that he heard her soft gasps and moans as she fondled his balls, and worked the base of his shaft while her head bobbed up and down on his dick. With one hand braced against the tiled wall, he chased the orgasm that was fast building at the base of his spine, until the clang of metal forced his eyes open.

a shadowy outline, looking remarkably like his fantasy, watched him. Logan groaned, slid the door open,

Well, fuck.

Hannah pointedly looked from his cock—still enclosed in his fist—to his face and back again. The sassy comeback would have worked, were it not for the breathy quality of her voice and the flush which stained her pale skin. How long had she been standing there,

her presence. He smirked when she promptly dropped it again. The resounding clang echoed around the

it, I just

grin. He didn’t bother to cover up—she’d seen it all already—and stalked toward her. Besides, he was rather enjoying the way she was

you to knock

flinched. Something akin to regret, almost pain, flashed

“I did knock.”

smiled and raised

He dropped his voice on purpose to rattle her a bit more, and sure

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