Black Lilith: Book One (Black Lilith #1) (18 page)

It’s not just that he’s saying such beautiful things. It’s that he’s saying beautiful things without pointing out where she can improve. So many of the people she’s loved have encouraged her, but there was always that caveat—
she would be perfect if only she changed something.

Her mother tells her that her job is beneath her.

Her father used to coach her on the best way to get the life she deserves.

She can’t think of a single ex-boyfriend who didn’t encourage her to wear more makeup or dress according to what he’d thought was an
‘ideal’
woman.

And here was Logan, a handsome, successful rockstar with women lining up around the block to spend a night with him, telling her that he’d turned them all down because he’d preferred her.

He couldn’t have known that they would have the chance to spend the night together. He’d waited anyway.

When they finally pull apart, she feels as though she ought to return the favor—to give him something like what he’s given her.

“I like that you got these tattoos because you needed to help Dash,” she says, running her fingers over the tattoos in question. There are more music notes threaded through the blue and white. She taps each of them with her fingers as though she can hear the tune in her head, wondering if she might persuade him to play it for her. “Not a lot of people would do that… even for family.”

Logan is watching her with hooded eyes. “Says the woman who stood between my brother and a knife.”

“That was different. I wasn’t thinking,” Mikayla says.

“Exactly,” Logan replies. “You have no idea… I totally froze. My baby brother was about to be stabbed, and I couldn’t move. But you did. You did what I couldn’t.” She looks up to see that his eyes are wetter than she’d thought they would be. He’s not crying, and the unshed tears aren’t affecting his voice. But the sight of them makes her heart clench. “You’re really brave,” he finishes with a half shrug.

“I think you’re brave too,” Mikayla says. “I can only imagine what it’s like to have someone care about me the way you care about Dash.”

He frowns at her. “Your mother has a lot to answer for.”

It’s Mikayla’s turn to shrug. “She’s never been actively cruel.”

Logan just shakes his head and pulls her closer, wrapping his arms around her shoulder and running his fingers over the bite marks he left on her shoulder. He seems to be pleased with those, his fingers linger there longer than they do anywhere else.

“Let’s just agree that we both think the world of each other and get some rest?” he asks.

Mikayla’s heart sinks at the thought of going to sleep. Going to sleep will hasten the dawn, and when the sun rises she and Logan will need to pretend that they didn’t share this moment. Or any of the moments which came before.

Pulling the blanket up so that it covers them both, she sighs and lets her eyes fall closed, enjoying the feeling of Logan’s hands on her skin and half-hoping that tomorrow never comes.

Tomorrow came, as it usually does. Mikayla wakes up in a sea of blankets with Logan’s arms wrapped tightly around her. For a moment she’s confused, then the weight of last night hits her, and she realizes that she’s grinning like a loon. She buries her face into Logan’s chest, enjoying his woody, masculine scent which seems to be all over him despite the fact that he should have washed off any cologne last night in the spa.

They’re both still naked. Mikayla usually gets dressed after sex, or at least puts on some boxers, but she’d been so wiped out the night before that she had passed out in Logan’s arms, oblivious to anything but the feeling of his skin pressed against hers.

As she lay for a moment, basking in the feeling of warmth that only came from sharing a bed with someone, she realizes that this can’t last. That she’ll have to get out of this bed soon, put on some clothes that will hide the hickeys she knows are still left on her skin, and pretend that last night never happened. She’ll have to spend her whole day with this man—going to interviews, watching him perform, and pretending not to be jealous when other women throw themselves at him.

But he did say that he didn’t want any of those women
, she reminds herself.

That doesn’t change the fact that we have to hide this
.

She wonders what Tommy would think if he knew that Logan and Mikayla had spent the night together. Would he be angry? Considering how angry he was when Logan had thought that Tommy had been the one who wanted to sleep with her, she thinks that he would probably have several choice words to throw at Logan if he knew about them. She feels a rush of guilt at that thought. She would never, ever, want to hurt Tommy. Or any of the boys.

Mikayla is interrupted in her train of thought when the man beneath her begins to stir. “Morning,” she says. Then she remembers her morning breath and quickly ducks her head to hide her face.

“Morning,” Logan replies. His voice is husky and deep with sleep, just the way she likes it. She wants to lean up and kiss him.

“Give me a sec,” she says. She rolls out of bed, not bothering to grab her robe, and heads to the bathroom. She quickly brushes her teeth, uses the toilet, and returns to bed to find Logan sitting up against the headboard, waiting for her.

“Now
that
is a sight I could get used to waking up to,” he says, leaning back and putting his arms behind his head, watching her lazily.

Mikayla can feel herself blushing. She’d caught a glimpse of all the hickeys he’d left behind when she’d looked in the bathroom mirror. He apparently has a
thing
for biting—some of the marks still have impressions of teeth in them. They don’t hurt, but she will definitely need to dress strategically until they go away.

By then he’ll probably have added more. She hopes that he’ll have added more.

Logan reaches toward her—sleep rumpled but still gazing at her with intention—and she climbs willingly into his arms. She pulls the blankets back and admires his body. Usually, she has to hide her interest when they’re in the pool, and last night she’d been too distracted to think clearly enough to really appreciate it. Now, her eyes feast on the sight of him.

He’s as lean as she expected, but she’s never liked the really muscular guys. Logan’s body is all smooth edges and quiet strength. He has ab muscles showing through his pale skin, and there’s a thin trail of dark hair which leads from his belly button all the way down. His thighs are strong from all the dancing he does on stage. His penis is already half-hard, probably because it’s morning, though Mikayla entertains the thought that it might have something to do with the fact that she’s crouched naked over his lap, staring at him.

“I suppose you want me to help you with that?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

She’s rewarded with a cheeky smile. “Well, it
is
your fault,” Logan says. He gives her a warm smile. “I’ll return the favor, don’t worry.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” she replies.

She runs her fingers over the shaft, feeling the velvety skin give just a little bit under her light touch. She’s deliberately gentle, knowing how much he likes to
feel
the moment, knowing as she does how aggressive he can be when he’s in the mood. She thinks that being gentle might drive him crazy. She wants to see him driven crazy. She thinks that might be something to see.

He purses his lips at the contact, seeming to be trying to avoid giving a reaction. He must have seen through her intentions. She dips her head without warning and takes half of him in her mouth at once.

The effect is instantaneous. Logan yelps and there’s a sound of sheets rumbling as he fists his hands in them. She sucks hard, and his hips shudder as though he wants to buck up into her mouth, but he’s restraining himself. She appreciates that. She gives another hard suck that makes him groan, and then she returns to the gentle touches with her fingers, pulling back so that she can look him in the eye.

“You’re evil,” he mutters. His voice is light and breathless. “Just remember it’s my turn next and you’re way easier to hold on the edge.”

Mikayla grins at him. “And what makes you think I won’t enjoy that?”

“
Evil
.”

She alternates between her hands and her mouth until his penis is straining and he’s reduced to an incoherent, muttering mess against the headboard. He’s got his fingers in her hair, something else she’s noticed that he’s fond of, but he doesn’t pull or direct her. He seems to just want to remind himself that she’s there. Mikayla enjoys the way his hips twitch, the involuntary noises he makes, the way his fingers clench on her scalp when she goes to take him in her mouth. She usually doesn’t get off on giving head, but she can feel herself getting wet listening to how much he’s enjoying himself.

“Mi-Mikayla, I’m going to—”

But before he can finish his sentence, there’s a knock at the door.

Mikayla shoots up off of his penis, staring at the door as Logan quickly reaches for the blankets to cover himself up. They have a brief, silent argument about what to do—whether to ignore the knocker or answer the door.

“Who is it?” she calls out finally.

“It’s Dash,” comes the reply.

“Shit,” Logan mutters. His chest is still flushed and his pupils are wide, but he pushes himself out of the bed and retreats to the bathroom.

Once the door is closed, and she has covered herself in the thick, fluffy robe, she answers the door.

“Hey! Woah, sorry, did I wake you up?” Dash asks, taking in her wild hair and robe, which she holds closed at the neck. She can’t take any chances.

“A little,” she replies. “What’s up?”

“You know breakfast is nearly over, right?” he questions. “We’re supposed to be at an interview in an hour, I think.”

Mikayla’s heart sinks. She’d completely forgotten about it. “You’re right, Dash. Thanks for reminding me. Sorry, I’m just a bit all over the place this morning.”

“Hey, that’s cool, don’t worry about it,” he replies. “By the way, have you seen Logan? I might have kicked him out last night. I want to make sure he didn’t end up sleeping in a ditch or something.”

“No, he didn’t… he’s… I booked him his own room,” she says. “I don’t remember what number, though. Sorry. You could try texting him?”

“Okay, thanks, Mik,” he says. He disappears off down the hallway. The back of his shirt is a bullseye, something that Mikayla doesn’t entirely approve of given his history.

She waits until he’s out of sight before closing the door with a sigh.

“Coast is clear,” she says.

Logan peeks his head out of the bathroom. His hair is a mess, and there’s still some red on his cheeks. “Better make sure I’m
‘checked out’
before I see him next,” he says.

“Listen, I’m really sorry about forgetting that interview,” Mikayla says quickly. “Seriously, I don’t know what got into me.”

“
I
know what got into you,” Logan says slyly, stepping out of the bathroom to reveal the fact that he’s still hard.

She rolls her eyes at the cheesy line. “Yeah, but I mean… it won’t happen again.”

“It’s an honest mistake, Mikayla,” he says, crossing the room and pulling her into his arms. He presses a kiss to her lips. After a moment, she returns it. “Why are you so worried about this?”

She wants to say that she knows her predecessor was fired for a minor misdemeanor, and that she doesn’t want to incur his wrath by doing something similar. But she doesn’t, because Logan seems to be in a good mood and she doesn’t want to ruin it by bringing up the last woman who worked with him. Instead, she just waves her hand as though she’s forgotten and kisses him again.

It occurs to her that perhaps the reason that she isn’t being fired for a minor infraction might be because she’s sleeping with Logan. That somehow the night they’d shared had saved her job. That makes her feel a little… cheap. And even guiltier knowing that Danielle maybe could have saved her job if she’d been with a different band member.

It’s hard to imagine that Logan is capable of such callousness. Not when he’s holding her so tenderly, peppering soft kisses against her lips. His persistent erection rests between them, but he makes no move to guide her hands toward it the way another man would have. He seems to be enjoying kissing her. It isn’t until the soft beeping of his phone from the bed reminds them that they have places to go that Logan pulls out of the kiss.

“I should deal with this,” he says, gesturing vaguely to his crotch. “And then deal with that.” He points to his phone.

He makes to go back to the bathroom, but she stops him. She pushes him onto the bed. He allows it. When he’s seated, she gets down on her knees between his legs, taking him in her mouth and sucking hard, using both of her hands on the base to bring him over quickly.

She doesn’t want to feel like a prostitute, buying financial security with her body. But it’s hard not to feel like one when she considers how he could have reacted if he weren’t in such a good mood when he’d gotten the news that she’d made a scheduling error. She tells herself that Logan wouldn’t do that to her regardless of whether or not they were sleeping together. She’d made friends with the entire band. She’d stood between Dash and a knife. Tommy said that she belonged with them.

Would Logan fire her if they broke up? Was he that kind of callous?

It is difficult to tell. Considering how hot and cold he’d been in the beginning. How quickly his temper could turn when he was annoyed, and how petty some of their arguments were in the beginning. Perhaps the fact that they are sleeping together now doesn’t help Mikayla’s job security one bit.

Logan runs his fingers through her hair, so gently that she almost doesn’t realize that he’s doing it, murmuring words that she doesn’t quite catch until she starts listening for them.

“…So beautiful. I’m so lucky. I’m so glad you’re here. Mikayla… Mikayla…” He repeats her name like a prayer.

She works him until he’s warning her to pull away, and then she finishes him with her hands. When he’s stopped gasping and groaning through his orgasm, he moves down on his knees so that they’re chest to chest, running his fingers down her belly and pressing them in all the spots he knows she likes. She kisses him, allowing herself to feel good in this moment, even as the conflicting thoughts about what this could mean for her job, and for the band, swirl around in her head.

One thing is certain—things just got a lot more complicated.