Addiction

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Sophie drowsed, half dreaming. She cuddled into the chest at her back and pulled the strong arm around her more firmly, clutching his wrist. A soft snore tickled her neck, and she shifted, a tight feeling settling in her stomach. The growing arousal at the curve of her bottom was enough to liquefy her insides and she moved Taylor's hand so it rested high enough on her thigh that his thumb was brushing her panties, and his fingers rested just close enough to her core for her to want him to wake up.

Deliberately, she squirmed, feeling his arousal brush back and forth across her underwear. He groaned, pressing closer, and she smiled. His fingers flexed, squeezing the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, and she rocked backwards, leaving him in no doubt of her own growing excitement.

Wake up, damn you, she thought, her own eyes still closed. She reached behind her to run her hand up his thigh, and then realized he was wearing jeans. Why would Taylor wear jeans to bed?

Oh, God, she remembered. It wasn’t Taylor pressed tightly to her behind – happily, she might add. His hand moved to the flat of her stomach and she gasped as his fingers dipped into the elastic of her panties. He was obviously still asleep, as his snores still tickled the spot under her ear. Her heart racing, Sophie froze. She needed to get the hell out of this bed, she knew that, but something primal in her wanted to see what Logan would do. So, she ignored the voice screaming in the back of her mind that she should move, right now. Her breath coming in short, choppy pants, she lay there unmoving as his fingers dipped lower into her underwear.

My God, girl you have gone mad, she decided, extricating herself quickly and fleeing to the bathroom. Once inside, she took a deep breath and glared at herself in the mirror. “What the hell?” she asked herself in disbelief. “He’s your brother,” she mouthed silently at her own disheveled reflection. “You’re disgusting.” Brushing off the tiny voice in the darkest corner of her mind which reminded her he wasn’t really her brother, she climbed into the shower. She definitely needed to wash away those thoughts.

*

THANKFULLY, LOGAN WAS not in her bed when she emerged, wrapped in a soft white towel. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she dug through her bag for something to wear, coming up with a set of practical underwear and some sweats and a tee shirt and pulling them on over her still damp skin. It was a moment of pure madness, she told herself as she dried her hair and dabbed concealer onto the small batch of freckles dotting the bridge of her nose. Feeling more like herself, she wandered into the kitchen in search of breakfast.

Logan was already there, munching on a slice of French toast. “Sleep well?” he asked her with a smile.

“Uhm, yes thank you, I did.” Was that a trick question? Did he know? Had he been locked in the same half awake state that she’d been? God, she hoped not. That would be mortifying beyond telling.

“Good. Breakfast is served,” he told her, flourishing a giant plate of French toast and motioning to the coffee maker with a nod of his head. “I have work to do this morning. And I’ll probably be out most of the day.” He handed her a clean cup, and she took it wordlessly. “But we can do something fun tonight.”

“Ooh, like what?” she asked, dismissing the earlier events from her mind. It was a sleepy mistake and it would never happen again. No point dwelling on it — she had plenty of other recent mistakes to dwell on, instead.

“How does a trip to the Beer Bunker sound?” He picked up a slim briefcase as he made his way through the giant open plan living area. “There’s a new band playing there tonight that I know you’ll just love.”

“Sounds good,” she replied quietly, her mind turning to her now ex-boyfriend.

“Don’t,” he whispered, appearing before her. He placed a light kiss on her forehead, rubbing her shoulder soothingly. “Don’t think about him.”

“I wasn’t,” she lied.

“Champagne Chimp was never good enough for you, anyway.” He grinned suddenly, and started toward the front hallway again. “And he’ll be good for nothing by the time I’m finished with him.”

“Don’t do anything,” she begged. “Please. I just want to forget him.”

“No promises.” A second later, the front door closed and she was alone.

*