LOGAN
Nora's hands were in my hair. She was swaying to the music, her head resting on my chest, and her ass purposefully pressing against my body. Normally I would enjoy this. But not tonight.
Whatever she was doing tonight, it wasn't working.
But ever the eager pleaser, she was determined. Her mouth now found my jaw, kissing and nibbling. Her hand traveled down my body, but my eyes stayed on the wall.
"Logan." Her voice had an edge to it now. "You seem tense, what’s wrong?"
"Nothing.”
I didn't argue. Arguing would have required caring about the outcome, and I'd stopped doing that sometime in the last two hours, since a girl wearing a black leather skirt and the emerald necklace my father had sent her chose to walk out of here with my brother instead of me.
What was that about anywa
