Lust Read online

  Lust

  Penny Wylder

  Copyright © 2018 Penny Wylder

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or businesses, organizations, or locales, is completely coincidental.

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  Contents

  Books By Penny Wylder

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Books By Penny Wylder

  Books By Penny Wylder

  Filthy Boss

  Her Dad’s Friend

  Rockstars F#*k Harder

  The Virgin Intern

  Her Dirty Professor

  The Pool Boy

  Get Me Off

  Caught Together

  Selling Out to the Billionaire

  Falling for the Babysitter

  Lip Service

  Full Service

  Expert Service

  The Billionaire’s Virgin

  The Billionaire’s Secret Babies

  Her Best Friend’s Dad

  Own Me

  The Billionaire’s Gamble

  Seven Days With Her Boss

  Virgin in the Middle

  The Virgin Promise

  First and Last

  Tease

  Spread

  Bang

  Second Chance Stepbrother

  Dirty Promise

  Sext

  Quickie

  Bed Shaker

  Deep in You

  The Billionaire’s Toy

  Buying the Bride

  Dating My Friend’s Daughter

  Big Man

  Trapped with My Teacher

  My 5 Bosses

  Good Girls Say Yes

  His Big Offer

  Dangerous Love

  The Roommate’s Baby

  Perfect Boss

  Cowboy Husband

  Knocked Up By Her Brother’s Enemy

  1

  My sister’s engagement party is the last place I want to be, and I’m furious about it. This is something I should be excited for. Instead I’m dreading it because I might run into Sam. Sammy. Samuel Logan. The man who broke my heart. And even though I like to pretend otherwise, I never really recovered.

  I’ve compared every relationship since to him, even if I try to put it out of my mind. It’s probably not fair to compare things to the explosive, all-consuming, power of first love, but I can’t help it. It was perfect, or at least it was in my mind. And I haven’t experienced anything since that’s come close.

  We’ve lived in the same town our entire lives and haven’t run into each other since that awful prom night. But go figure, my sister is going to marry his little brother, and the party’s at his family’s estate. He’s going to be here, and I’m going to do my best to just stay clear of him entirely, but just in case, I’ve made pulled out all the stops to make a smoking hot impression: Plunging neckline, smoky eye, and heels so high that my feet are going to kill me tomorrow.

  Totally worth it.

  I pull into the driveway and I roll my eyes when I see that they’ve hired valets for the evening. I mean, I really shouldn’t be surprised. The Logans are town royalty and practically made of money. One of the valets—so young he’s practically a kid—runs over to me as I pull up to the house. He’s got a big grin on his face and I can’t help but smile back. At least he’s having a good time. I do my best to avoid looking at the enormous house behind me as I hand him the keys, and I’m still standing there a few minutes after he’s driven off in my car.

  I can do this. I can. I have to do this for Rose. There’s a pressure growing in my chest. A heart attack would be a pretty good excuse to skip this party. But I know I’m not having a heart attack. That’s the downside of being a nurse: no delusional self-diagnoses. Taking a deep breath, I turn to face the house. It looks the same, in that way that houses tend to do. Like it hasn’t been eleven years since I last stepped inside. Like the man who lived there didn’t shatter my life.

  Time to get this over with. I walk up the stairs, and the sound of my high heels on the steps seems really loud to me, almost like thunder. My heart is beating fast, too. I need to keep it together. A man opens the door for me as I approach, and it takes me a second to recognize him. “Benjamin?” The Logan’s long time butler. He was always kind to me.

  He looks at me. “The elder Miss Monroe. It’s been a long time.”

  “Yes. It has.” I force a smile.

  “Enjoy the party.”

  I sigh. “I’ll do my best.”

  And then I’m through the door. Thankfully Rose is the first person that I see. “Hi!” she squeals and pulls me into a warm hug. I’ve been working long hours and it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other. It’s been touch-and-go with us since she and Thomas got together. I’m grateful that he saved my father’s bakery, and I’m happy that she’s happy, but I still harbor resentment toward the Logans. Thomas seems nice, but it hurts to see him. And because of that, I’ve kept my distance from Rose.

  “Hi,” I say, hugging her back. “It’s good to see you.” And it is. Rose has been like a different person since she and Thomas got together. Lighter, more carefree. I can’t help but think this is who she’s meant to be.

  “I’m so happy you’re here,” she says, “because I was promised that as soon as you arrived I could stop greeting people at the door.” Looping her arm through mine, she pulls me further into the house. “Thomas, look who showed up.”

  Thomas turns, and smiles when he sees me. “Hello, Fiona.” There’s a light hug and a kiss on the cheek. Thomas has always been sensitive to my history with his brother. He likes me, but I think he knows why I avoid him.

  “Hey.”

  “So now,” Rose says, abandoning me and allowing Thomas to wrap his arms around her, “it’s your turn to stand by the door.”

  “Is that so?” he says with a smile, leaning down to kiss her.

  The way he kisses her, I have to look away. It’s too intimate. I’m so, so happy for Rose, but I also want what she has. I want that kind of happiness. Rose pulls away laughing. “Go!”

  He does, making it back to the front door just in time for another guest to enter. Rose floats back to me. “You look great, by the way.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you want food?”

  I glance over toward the piles of food in the next room, and my stomach turns. I’m too nervous to eat. “I’m good for now, I think.”

  “Well then, let me give you a tour,” she says. “This place is amazing. I haven’t spent that much time here, and every time I come I discover a new room.”

  My stomach jumps into my throat, and the words stick behind my teeth.

  Rose freezes. “Shit. You’ve been here before. Probably more than I have.”

  “Yeah,” I clear my throat. “A long time ago, though.”

  My sister pauses, tilting her head and looking at me in that way she has—like she’s reading my mind. “Drinks. We need drinks.”

  “God, yes,” I say and follow her over to the bar that’s been set up for the party. I don’t want anything complicated, so I order a vodka cranberry. Tasty enough to drink quickly and strong enough to take the edge
off.

  “I think we can safely say that this is a success,” a voice says from behind us.

  Rose turns with a smile and hugs a woman I recognize as Vanessa Logan. Samuel and Thomas’s mother. “I think so too!” Rose says.

  Vanessa looks at me, and even though it takes her a second, I feel the moment she recognizes me. “Fiona,” she says.

  “Hi Mrs. Logan.” Vanessa was always a bright spot in the Logan family, and after everything happened between me and Samuel, she tried to reach out to me. I couldn’t bring myself to talk to her. If I could go back and do it again, I’d take the comfort she offered. “It’s really good to see you.”

  She reaches out and puts a hand on my shoulder. “You too, darling. Now that you’re part of the family we’ll have to catch up again. Maybe do lunch?”

  “I’d like that,” I nod.

  Turning, she gestures to two men standing a little behind her. The air between them is thick, and they’re pointedly not talking. “You remember my husband, David?”

  The older man raises an eyebrow and looks at me. Unlike Vanessa, there’s no recognition there. I reach out and shake his hand. “Fiona Monroe, Rose’s sister,” I say.

  “And this is my eldest, Robert.”

  The younger man turns toward me, and I can see a passing resemblance to his younger brothers, but he’s different. Less polished. He’s just as attractive as his siblings but he seems out of place here, like the suit he’s wearing is the most uncomfortable thing in the world. I don’t think we’ve ever met before. Robert shakes my hand. “Hello.” He seems bored.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “I remember you,” he says with a soft smile. “We may have met in passing years ago.”

  “I’m sorry that I don’t remember.”

  He laughs. “It’s fine. I believe you had other things on your mind.”

  I blush because being with Sam was the only thing on my mind at that time. I’m saved by someone I don’t recognize coming up to our little grouping. “Rose, Vanessa, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

  Rose glances at me. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  She and Vanessa move across the room, and David drifts away to talk with some other men. I recognize a few other guests as rich businessmen from Hawthorne. I realize that I’m glaring at them when Robert says, “Enjoying the party?”

  “What?” I’d forgotten he was there, and I smooth out my face immediately.

  He points to my hand. “You’re holding onto that drink like it’s a lifeline.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Well…”

  He chuckles, but it doesn’t sound like he actually thinks it’s funny. “You don’t have to explain to me. I don’t really want to be here either.”

  “Parties not your thing?”

  “Sure,” he says. “We’ll go with that.” He orders a beer from the bar and takes a sip. “I don’t blame you, by the way.”

  I do a double take. “I’m sorry?”

  “For glaring at my father.” The look he shoots in David’s direction…the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ comes to mind. I’ve never liked David Logan, because he’s always seemed cold, distant, and strict. The incident with my father’s bakery hasn’t exactly made him popular in my family, but I never got the impression that he’s a bad person. Or that his family didn’t like him.

  “Your sister seems nice enough, but my family doesn’t deserve nice. Especially not him.” He nods over his shoulder at his dad.

  I glance over at David, conversing with his group. I’ve never heard anything like this before, and it’s a little startling. What is there about David Logan that would make his son look at him like that? I’m about to ask him when I hear my name called from across the room. Rose is waving me over.

  Looking back at Robert, he gives me a tight smile. “Go. And good luck with your speech.”

  “Speech? What speech?”

  2

  Fuck.

  “Are you serious?” I’m looking at Rose, and she doesn’t look like she’s kidding. Please let her be kidding.

  She makes a face. “I asked you when I sent the email about the party. Thomas and I are having a smaller wedding, so we thought we’d do the best man and maid of honor speeches here.”

  I shake my head. It’s coming back a little now. That email was months ago, and I went into avoidance mode at the thought of a party here in this house. God, I feel like an asshole. “I’m so sorry, Rose. I didn’t prepare anything.”

  Rose smiles. “That’s okay. I think toasts are a little better when they’re not planned anyway. Just say nice things about me. You’ll be fine.”

  “I will one-hundred percent not be fine. I will vomit. I will pass out. You can’t make me speak in front of all these people. Please.”

  “You will be fine, and I’m not going to make you,” she says. “But it would mean a lot to me if you would.”

  I groan. “You’re the worst.”

  “And you love me,” she says, giving me a quick hug. Then she shoves a glass of champagne in my hand and takes another for herself. She taps a spoon against her champagne flute, and the light ringing sound brings the guests’ attention to her. “It’s time for the toasts!” Rose says, projecting so everyone can hear.

  Then she steps aside and I’m in the spotlight staring out at a large crowd, bigger than any group I’ve ever spoken to. I clear my throat. “Hi. I’m Fiona, Rose’s sister. She told me about this toast a couple of months ago, and I forgot.” There are a few scattered chuckles. “So I am totally unprepared. But that’s pretty much par for the course for me.”

  I keep looking back and forth at different people, because people are looking at me. “But Rose is never—”

  Everything goes still when I spot him. Samuel. He’s standing in the back of the crowd and he’s staring right at me. God, if I thought he was hot as a teenager—and I did—he’s so much hotter now that he’s a man. What could have been described as lanky limbs have filled out, and he’s grown into his features. He’s got those intense blue eyes that all the Logan boys have, and for just a second, I forget the fact that it’s been eleven years. Looking at him, I’m transported back to my high school years and having the time of my life with him.

  I realize that I’ve paused long enough that people are wondering if I’m crazy. “But Rose is never unprepared.” I finish my sentence.

  “As long as I can remember, Rose has been rescuing me. Whatever scrape I managed to get myself into, she managed to get me out of.” I look over at Rose. “She still manages to do that. But since she’s always the one who’s been doing the rescuing, she never really had the same kind of support that I had. Until she met Thomas. Or should I say, she met him again.”

  There’s laughter, and I glance back at Sam. He’s not laughing, but his eyes are unerringly focused on me. They’re burning into me, and I can’t tell if what’s behind them is anger or lust. Either one will burn me alive. I have to keep talking. “The Rose I know now, with Thomas, is who she was meant to be. She gets to let go and know that someone has her back. And I’m glad she found that at a time when I wasn’t able to give it to her.” Unexpected tears rise to my eyes, and I blink them away. Sam is still looking at me, but he looks troubled now. I look away. “I’m so happy for you both,” I say, nearly choking on the words. “Cheers to the happy couple.”

  “Cheers,” everyone raises their glasses in response.

  Rose gives me a hug. “See? It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Not for you,” I say. “I’m really sorry I haven’t been there for you.”

  “Stop.” She pulls away. “You’re here now. And you’re not going to beat yourself up at my engagement party, right?”

  “Right,” I say, trying to laugh. But I feel hollow. This, seeing Sam…I wish I could be happier right now.

  I need a few minutes to just be by myself, and I know Rose will be sad if I leave early, so I head to the bathroom. There’s a group of women waiting in the hall outs
ide the bathroom, and I can’t stomach the thought of someone trying to talk to me about Rose or the toast. That’s fine. I know where another bathroom is. It’s nicer, and I doubt anyone’s in there. It’s upstairs.

  My heart beats like a galloping horse as I walk up the stairs, and I have the paranoid sense that someone is going to come up behind me and ask me what I think I’m doing. But no one does.

  The bathroom is deserted, and I take a few minutes just to breathe. It’s so much quieter up here, almost peaceful. Even if I don’t think I could ever be peaceful in this house. I can’t bear to go back downstairs yet, and so I walk around the upstairs of the house. It’s both so familiar and so foreign. I recognize art and furniture from eleven years ago, and I see new additions to the house, too. Before I know it, I’m standing in front of the door to Sam’s room. Or his old room. The door is open, and I feel drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It’s been updated since I last saw it. More adult furnishings and linens, and a distinct lack of posters on the wall. But it’s the same bed.

  I walk inside. I can’t help it. I’m being pulled in, just like I always was. It’s the same bed where I had my first kiss. The same bed where Sam and I lost our virginity to each other. But this room, even though it still bears the stamp of my memories, feels empty. Sam doesn’t live here anymore.

  “When I saw you come upstairs I thought I might find you here.”

  3

  I whip around to find Sam leaning in the doorway, a half-smile on his face.

  Here, up close, he’s even sexier than I had thought during the toast, and my mouth is dry with the sudden want that I feel. I shouldn’t want that. I should want to kick him and scream at him, take out eleven years of frustration until he understands the agony that every thought of him brings me. But my body doesn’t want that. It wants to touch him.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I just needed a minute away from the crowd—found myself here.”

  “You never were one for crowds,” he says.

  “No.” We’re smiling at each other for a second, and then it’s over. I shouldn’t be here.