OBSESSION

SIX

Saturday night stretched on in an endless blur for Bethany as she hunched over her desk, the glow of her laptop casting soft light across the small room. Papers were scattered around her, sticky notes plastered over a meticulously organized binder, and her planner lay open with pages filled with color-coded annotations. Her eyes burned from hours of focus, but she couldn't bring herself to stop.

She needed this presentation to be perfect.

Ever since Sierra's subtle but biting comments during Monday's meeting, Bethany had been walking a tightrope of stress and determination. It wasn't just about proving herself to the team—it was about proving to herself that she belonged in this role, that she could lead this project and earn the respect that came with it.

Her phone buzzed on the edge of her desk, the vibration rattling against a stray pen. Without glancing, she knew who it was. Logan. Again.

She ignored the call, just as she had the others throughout the week. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to him—quite the opposite, in fact. Logan had an uncanny way of making her forget the world around her, and that was the problem. She couldn't afford distractions, not now, not when her career was finally on an upward trajectory.

But no matter how much she told herself to focus, his voice lingered in her mind. The way he looked at her during the meeting, the way he'd kissed her Friday night—it had all left a mark she couldn't shake.

Her phone buzzed again, persistent this time, and she sighed, glancing at the screen. His name lit up the display, and before she could talk herself out of it, she swiped to answer.

"Logan," she said, her voice betraying her mix of surprise and hesitation.

There was a pause, then his familiar, smooth tone came through. "Bethany. I was starting to think you were avoiding me."

Her lips quirked into a small smile despite herself. "I've been busy," she replied, glancing at the mess of papers around her. "Work's been... demanding."

"That's a relief," Logan said with a chuckle, though there was a hint of genuine emotion in his voice. "I thought maybe I said something wrong."

"You? Say something wrong?" she teased lightly, leaning back in her chair. "Unlikely."

"Don't let my charm fool you—I've been known to put my foot in my mouth occasionally," he admitted. "But I'm glad to hear that's not the case this time."

She felt the tension in her shoulders ease as his voice filled the room, a warmth spreading through her that she hadn't realized she'd missed.

"So," Logan continued, his tone shifting to something more playful, "since you're clearly not avoiding me, how about we go on a proper date? No ruses, no business meetings disguised as dinners—just you and me. What do you say?"

Bethany's stomach flipped, but she quickly quelled the fluttering. "I can't," she said, her voice soft but firm. "I have to finish preparing for Monday's presentation. It's important."

"I know it is," Logan replied, his voice steady but teasing. "But isn't it ironic that you're stressing over a presentation for me? I'm the client you're trying to impress, after all."

She opened her mouth to respond but found herself momentarily stunned. "That's different," she said finally. "This is about professionalism. I want to make sure everything is perfect."

"And I respect that," Logan said. "But, Bethany, if the point of the presentation is to align with my vision, wouldn't it make sense to let me help you? Who better to give feedback than the person you're pitching to?"

She hesitated, glancing at the clock. It was past ten, and she wasn't even halfway through the revisions she'd planned. The idea of Logan seeing her work before it was polished made her nervous, but she couldn't deny the logic in his suggestion.

"Alright," she said, exhaling slowly. "But I'm not leaving my house. If you want to help, you'll have to come here."

Logan's laugh was low and warm, sending a shiver down her spine. "Your wish is my command. Text me your address, and I'll be there in thirty minutes."

"Logan—"

"Relax, Bethany," he interrupted gently. "I'm not going to judge your workspace or your process. I just want to help. And maybe see you while I'm at it."

Her cheeks warmed, but she managed to keep her voice steady. "Fine. But don't expect anything fancy."

"Noted," he said with amusement. "I'll see you soon."

As the call ended, Bethany stared at her phone for a moment before shaking her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. She quickly tidied up the desk, trying to make the space presentable without overthinking it.

The doorbell echoed through Bethany's sparsely decorated house, breaking the stillness of the evening. She glanced toward the cluttered dining table, then down at herself, smoothing her sweater and quickly brushing a hand through her hair. Her pulse quickened. She hadn't been able to get Logan out of her head all week, and now he was here—at her home.

Taking a steadying breath, she opened the door. Logan stood there, still in his sharp gray suit, the tie slightly loosened, adding a casual charm to his usual polished demeanor. In one hand, he held a brown paper bag, and the unmistakable aroma of Chinese takeout wafted toward her.

"Figured you'd forgotten dinner," he said, his smirk both playful and warm. "So I brought reinforcements."

Bethany blinked, caught momentarily off guard by the gesture. "Come in," she managed, stepping aside to let him in. "You really didn't have to do that."

"Maybe," Logan replied, walking past her with an easy confidence. "But you don't exactly seem like the type to take meal breaks when you're in the zone." He glanced around at the scattered boxes, the makeshift workstation on the dining table. "Still settling in, huh?"

"Is it that obvious?" Bethany replied, shutting the door behind him with a sheepish laugh. "Unpacking hasn't exactly been my top priority. Work has... taken over."

Logan set the bag on the table, then turned to face her, arms crossed in mock judgment. "Bethany Scott, workaholic extraordinaire. I should've known."

She chuckled, brushing past him to clear space on the table. "I'll take that as a compliment. Give me a second; I'll grab some plates." She crouched by one of the boxes near the kitchen, rummaging through it until she unearthed two mismatched dishes.

"Plates from a box. You really are mid-move," Logan teased, leaning casually against the table.

"Laugh it up," she replied, standing and carrying the plates to the table. "I've been meaning to get around to it. Just... haven't yet."

She set the plates down and began unpacking the takeout containers. "So, what about you? What's your go-to dinner after a long day of work?"

"Takeout, obviously," Logan said, smirking as he gestured to the bag. "Though I don't usually have the excuse of working until midnight like you seem to."

Bethany opened a container of sweet and sour chicken, handing him a pair of chopsticks. "Yeah, well, when you're trying to prove yourself, you don't really have the luxury of normal work hours."

"Prove yourself?" Logan tilted his head, watching her closely. "Where are you from, anyway? This house—it's got that fresh-start energy."

Bethany hesitated, fiddling with the edge of a container before sitting across from him. "Temecula. Small-town wine country in Southern California. I went to college in Virginia—four years of trying to figure myself out—and when I got hired at R&M, I figured it was time for a new start. So, here I am in Seattle, hoping I don't screw it all up."

Logan's brows lifted as he opened a container of noodles. "That's a big move. Brave, too. You're selling yourself short, though. From what I've seen, you're good—better than good, actually."

"Thanks," Bethany said, her cheeks warming at the compliment. "But I don't know if I've earned that yet."

"You have," Logan said firmly, his eyes locking with hers. "Do you know how many people in this business coast by on connections or money? But you're the real deal. That's rare."

Bethany busied herself with her food, trying to tamp down the sudden rush of warmth in her chest. "And you? I don't imagine you've coasted either."

Logan let out a dry laugh, leaning back in his chair. "Not even close. My father's idea of parenting was... unconventional. Everything was about the family name, the legacy. My brother, Liam, fit the mold perfectly—charming, ambitious, and completely obedient. Me? I wanted something different."

Bethany rested her chopsticks on the edge of her plate, watching him closely. "Is that why you started Legacy Realty?"

"Exactly," Logan said, his tone softening. "But it wasn't easy. My father thought I was throwing my future away. He wanted me in the family business, under his control. Liam thrives there. Me? I've always been the disappointment."

Bethany frowned, her chest tightening at the vulnerability in his voice. "That's not fair. It sounds like you've been working just as hard—harder, even."

Logan shrugged, his expression contemplative. "It's not about proving him wrong anymore. It's about proving to myself that I can succeed on my own terms."

Bethany nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I get that. I feel like I've spent my whole life trying to stand on my own two feet, to prove I can make it without relying on anyone else."

For a moment, their eyes met, and the shared ambition and understanding hung in the air between them. The moment stretched, quiet and comfortable, before Bethany broke the silence.

"Alright," she said, standing and grabbing her laptop. "Let's get to work. I could use a fresh perspective on this presentation."

Logan leaned forward, his focus sharpening. "Let's see what you've got."

For the next two hours, they worked side by side. Logan's insights were sharp, his suggestions practical yet creative. His ability to articulate his vision for the building gave Bethany a new sense of confidence in her approach.

As the clock neared midnight, Logan stretched and stood, glancing at his watch. "It's late. I should let you get some rest."

Bethany hesitated, her pulse quickening. She didn't want him to leave—not yet. She stood as well, her voice soft as she said, "You don't have to go."

Logan's eyes darkened slightly, his gaze sweeping over her. "Are you sure?"

Instead of answering, Bethany stepped closer, closing the space between them. Her hand rested lightly on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her fingers. Logan didn't wait for further confirmation. He cupped her face in his hands, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that started slow and deepened quickly, igniting a fire that had been simmering between them for days.

Bethany's hands slid up to his shoulders, pulling him closer as his jacket fell to the floor. As his kiss deepenend, roamed up her back, pulling her sweater up enough to to reveal her underwear underneath.

Bethany pulled at his tie until it joined his jacket on the floor, followed by his shirt, and Bethany's fingers traced the hard lines of his chest, memorizing every inch of him. They moved toward the couch, their laughter and gasps filling the silence around them.

Logan fell on the couch first, pulling her onto his lap, causing her to straddle his waist. The kisses only causes her desire to rise — what was once a relief, was not only causing her more torture.

She wasn't entirely sure how far she wanted this to go, simply satisifed in the sensations she was feeling — she would worry about the consequences later.

Logan broke the kiss, only long enough for him to pull her sweater over her head, discarding it on the floor near her oak coffee table.

The chill of the air caused goosebumps to trace her skin and her n*****s to harden. She might've known what she was doing by not changing into something more modest. The sweater being removed left her in nothing but her underwear as Logan was naked from the waist above.

His eyes traced all of the newly revealed flesh, causing them to darken with desire. A moment later, he was kissing her again, but this time, they trailed down her neck, nipping and nibbling his way past her pulse, down her collar bone.

His hands rested on her breast, squeezinly lightly as he pinched her n*****s slightly. The action was felt between her thighs, causing her to instinctively grind her hips against his hardness.

They both let out an instinctive moan at the pleasure. Logan took her n****e into his mouth, repeating the sensation, causing her hips to move again.

Soon she was working up a rhythmn, one that was close to getting her to her own release, but Logan suddenly pulled away, flipping Bethay onto her back.

Now he was above her, his hip laying in between her legs, his hardness still pressed against her core. She hadn't ever wanted anyone as badly as she wanted him in that moment. And in that moment, the consequences appeared in her mind.

He is my client... He is basically my boss... His lips are traveling down...

Bethany snapped out of her thoughts as she realized that Logan was no longer above her, instead he had traveled down the couch with his fave nestled between her thighs.

Before she could protest — she didnt want to — he curled his thumbs in the elastic of her underwear before pulling them down. She raised her hips to accomodate him before her underwear were now discarded in the pile.

Now, with Bethany completely naked beneath him, Logan had her at his will. Instead of giving her what she wanted, he opted to tease her. He kissed her inner thighs starting at her knee and slowly began to trail up, and when he reached her center, he pivoted, switching to her other leg and doing the same.

As he got close, she raised her hips practically ready to beg, but she did not have to.

Logan kissed her at her core, sending a wave of pleasure through her entire body. She moaned instinctively as she focused on the nub at her center.

Bethany couldn't control her hips as she bucked ast his lips,. Resting his weight on his right arm, he used his gree hand to hold her in place, subjecting her to the torture — no, pleasure.

Bethany could feel her o****m rising uncontrolably, the amount of pleasure feeling almost too intense. As her first his her like a tidal wave, Logan inserted on finger, causing her to convulse around her.

He didn't let her come down from her high, only focusing on intensifying the o****m and prolonging it. Logan inserted another finger, seemingly focused solely on hitting her g-spot while his tongue worked on the num.

As he focused, Bethany couldn't keep track of the orgasms she encountered. Just before the sensation became too much, Logan slowed.

Bethany collapsed back on her couch, feeling as though she had no bones left in her body.

Logan stared down at her with a cocky grin on his face. Before he could say anything braggadocious, she pulled him in for a long kiss, tasting herself on his lips.

She could feel her desire building again, her hands searching for the belt buckle on his pants, before Logan stopped her.

"Not tonight," he said, "Tonight was about making you forget about that damn presentation for whatever asshole is your client."

Bethany laughed, knowing he was only teasing himself. Her hand grazed his erection, "But what will you do with this?"

Logan's body shuddered in response to the touch, "I am trying to be a gentleman."

Logan took a small step back, running a hand through his disheveled hair as if putting physical distance between them would help him regain control. His breathing was still ragged, his green eyes darkened with lingering desire, but his voice was calm, steady.

"Bethany," he began, his tone laced with a mix of restraint and affection, "I don't want this to be something you wake up tomorrow regretting."

Bethany arched a brow, leaning casually against the armrest of her couch as she studied him. "You think I'd regret this?"

Logan chuckled softly, the sound warm but laced with tension. "I don't know what you'd feel, but I know how I'd feel if I didn't do this the right way. You're not someone I want to treat like a passing thing."

Her heart skipped at his words, the sincerity in his voice catching her off guard. She folded her arms, a playful smirk tugging at her lips despite the turmoil in her chest. "The right way? Are you saying I'm some kind of test of your self-control?"

Logan's cocky grin returned, but it was softer this time, more vulnerable. "Bethany, you are a complete and utter challenge to my self-control," he admitted, his voice dropping. "But it's not about control. It's about respect. You deserve more than just some heat-of-the-moment thing."

Her playful smirk faltered, replaced by something more genuine, more thoughtful. "That's... unexpectedly admirable," she murmured, tilting her head as she studied him.

Logan reached out, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "Admirable, huh? I think I'll take that as a compliment."

"It is," she said, her voice softening. She could feel the sincerity in his touch, in his words. Yet, even as her mind admired his restraint, her body screamed for more. "But what if I don't want you to stop?"

His breath hitched at her words, and his hand faltered for a brief moment before dropping to his side. "Don't tempt me," he said with a wry smile. "I'm hanging on by a thread here."

Bethany leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "What if I want to see what happens when that thread snaps?"

Logan groaned softly, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "You're not making this easy."

She shrugged, her tone teasing. "Maybe I don't want it to be easy."

"Bethany," he said, his voice firmer now, though still tinged with that infuriatingly attractive restraint. "I'm trying to show you that I'm serious about this—about you. If we rush things tonight, I'm afraid it'll cheapen what this could be."

She blinked, her chest tightening at the raw honesty in his words. "And what do you think this could be?"

Logan's gaze softened, and for a moment, the cocky grin and teasing remarks were gone. He was just... Logan."Something that matters."

Bethany didn't respond right away, the weight of his words settling between them. She knew he meant it—every word—and that made her want him even more. But this wasn't just about desire anymore. It was about trust, about understanding what was forming between them.

Finally, she nodded, her lips quirking into a small smile. "Alright, Mr. Gentleman. I'll give you this round."

Logan exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "You make it sound like a negotiation."

Bethany laughed softly, nudging him playfully. "Oh, it is. And don't think for a second that this is over. But... I respect what you're trying to do."

"Good," Logan said, his grin returning. "Because you're worth doing this right."

She rolled her eyes, her heart racing even as she tried to play it cool. "Fine. But you're still staying for coffee. I'm not ready for you to leave just yet."

Logan's gaze softened, and he gave her a small nod. "Coffee sounds perfect."

Bethany couldn't help but feel like something had shifted between them. Logan wasn't just a fleeting attraction or a charming distraction—he was someone who saw her, who respected her. And that terrified her almost as much as it thrilled her.