After a moment of deliberation, Jordan shook her head and stifled a sigh before sitting back on the

red cushioned sofa.

It was a big house but very tastefully decorated. But then again, Emily James was a sought-after
interior designer, wasn't she? It was only reasonable she'd pull no stops in decorating one of his
son's homes.
Logan James's head of security had refused to let her in at first, saying Mr. James was busy and
won't be available for the evening as he had guests in his villa. She'd insisted, telling him she
can wait. She wanted this done with, so she could forget about him and move on. She was
absolutely certain he'd refuse her terms.
That had been over an hour ago.
A maid had offered her something to drink while she waited. The mansion's guards had left her
alone and went back to their duty.
The shadows near the northeastern perimeter two-foot thick, ten foot high brick wall that
surrounded the obscenely large property belonging to one Logan James, Jordan Swan scowled up at
the perfectly set bricksvery good for aiding her plight of scaling the wall.
She dropped the bag onto the ground off to the side so that it wouldn't be in the way when she hit
the ground. That done, she turned over and lowered herself over the side once more. There was a
slight ledge, so she was able to hang onto that, at least for a moment, as she drew a deep breath and
pushed off just enough so that she wouldn't hit her head on the way down.
Landing flat on her back in a thick bed of lush grass, she lay perfectly still for several seconds as
she struggled to catch her breath again. Nothing was broken, she decided as she cautiously moved
her arms and legs. If the wall had been any higher, though, she would never have tried to get down
that way.
It had surprised her, she had to admit. A man as spoiled and pretentious as Logan James had
comparatively little security installed around his home. There were a handful of cameras along the
wall, but most of those were on the outside at about fifty- yard intervals. Gross negligence, in her
opinion, especially since the area where she'd climbed over was pitch black in the shadows. Rolling
her eyes as she sat up slowly, she had to wonder if her opinion of him could possibly get any
worse . . .
`Don't be stupid,' she told herself grimly as she pushed herself to her feet and retrieved her case. `Of
course it could.'
The next problem was crossing the wide expanse of yard. Bathed in the bright light of the full
moon, there was nothing to provide any sort of cover, and even if she skirted around the perimeter,
sticking to the shadows, she'd still have to chance crossing the yard somewhere.
Face scrunching up in a frown of concentration, Jordan shook her head and started moving. If she
was going to be his attorney, he'd better get used to the idea that she'd be around to pester him even
at the most inconvenient hours. If he didn't like it, well, then he was free to find someone else who
was willing to put up with his ration of crap.
It didn't take long for her to reach the relative cover provided by the shadows falling around the
mansion. The arrogant man didn't even have security cameras out here, and she wrinkled her nose

as she carefully pushed her way through the thick branches of the bushes outside the windows. She
figured that she'd be better off to make sure that he really was misbehaving before she stomped in
there with all guns blazing.
The living room window was open, and what was meant to be a quick glance stopped her short as
her mouth dropped open, as a livid flush shot to the surface of her skin as she stared in almost
comical horror at the debacle unfolding inside.
Oh, my God, she muttered, pressing a hand to her mouth as her eyes widened in complete
disbelief at the scenario laid out before her. Sure, Rosalie had told her what he going to be doing
that night, and yes, she'd certainly believed itat least she thought she had. Maybe, she realized as
she tried to make herself back away, maybe she hadn't honestly believed that even he could be that
completely debased. Seeing it happening, though . . .
`I-it's like a train wreck,' she thought wildly but couldn't make herself look away. Good Lord.
Bottle blonde identical twins, all right, with extremely large, extremely fake-looking breasts, damn
it. One was bouncing up and down on the disgusting man's penis while the other was straddling his
head, keening like a puppy as she writhed and fondled her breasts.
Ooh, yeah; ooh, yeah, she squeaked. Logan was sprawled on the floorlifting his hips in a steady
rhythm, though how he could possibly keep it up was beyond Jordan. The woman on his face
leaned forward, licking at the other one's nipples as her breasts bobbed obscenely. It was completely
disgusting, wasn't it? Completely, utterly, insanely . . .
Don't give yourself a black eye, honey, Jordan grumbled under her breath.
He was moaning and groaning and carrying on, too, which only managed to add to Jordan's overall
disgust with the entire affair as the other twin leaned forward, as the women felt up each other's
breasts, their tongues flicking out to lap at each other.
That's it . . . suck those titties, baby . . . Logan encouraged them from the floor. Jordan smashed
her hand over her mouth to keep from snorting out loud despite the marked flush that she could feel
burning her skin.
Logan reached up, burying his fingers into the nearest twin. She squealed and bucked wildly,
showing absolutely no shame as she rocked against him. Jordan thought that she heard him chuckle
but wasn't sure since it was hard to make out anything over the din the women were making. The
girl riding him leaned back, bracing herself on her hands while the other one jiggled her palm
against her twin's clitoris to make her come. Oh, baby! Oh, Logan! Ooh, you're so big! So huge!
I'm gonna come! I'm gonnaI'm gonnaI'm gonna . . .!
She crumpled to the side, her breathing labored and harsh as she huddled on the floor. The girl
Logan was fingering yanked the condom off of him, drawing him in completely as Jordan shook her
head in disbelief.
`Dear God, he is huge!' she thought, unable to repress the complete astonishment that the woman
was actually able to take him in completely. Something like that couldn't possibly be natural, could
it? Had he had some weird surgery to make his penis larger or something? And why wouldn't she
put that past him?
Even as she wondered that, though, he unleashed a loud growl, lifting his hips and thrusting himself

deeper into the poor girl's mouth, and she swallowed fast as he jerked her head down hard. From
her vantage point, Jordan could see dribbles of semen escaping the woman's lips despite her efforts
to swallow all of it. With one last, long groan, he collapsed against the floor, stroking the blonde's
hair as she and her sister licked him clean.
`Nasty, nasty . . . disgusting, just plain disgusting,' Jordan fumed, shifting slightly as a dull
throbbing registered in the back of her mind. She wasn't turned on by what she was seeing; God,
no . . . It was the single most deplorable act she'd ever born witness to! Men like him should be
dragged out at dawn and shot, damn it! Still . . .
Still, as much as she hated to admit it, it was hot, blazing hot even.
Jordan could feel her own face flaming, and as much as she hated to admit it, she felt as though her
body was unraveling, a series of tiny explosions that only served to set off a deep-rooted ache.
She was breathing heavily, herself, her hands shaking as she stared through the window. The girls
were screaming in earnest now, each of them driven forward by Logan's thrusts like a really twisted
perpetual motion machine, and Jordan gasped, jumping back only to collapse against the side of the
house when she saw it: his eyes staring directly into hers with an unfathomable expression on his
face as he continued to fuck the twins.
`Oh, God . . . I have to get out of here . . .' she thought, pressing an icy palm against her forehead.
`He saw me, didn't he? He saw . . .the pig . . .'
`A hot pig,' her conscience agreed. `A really, really hot pig . . .'
She heaved a disgusted sigh, crossing her arms over her chest as her expression darkened. Women
like those two were the kind who based their worth on how many guys they slept with. That they
would degrade themselves in such a way was proof enough, as far as Jordan was concerned. `Just
wanted to sleep with the rock star, huh . . .?'
`You know, you were almost that bad when you were younger,' her conscience pointed out
reasonablytoo reasonably.
Jordan wrinkled her nose and stubbornly shook her head. Her wild days were well in her past now,
and even though she would be the first to admit that she'd done more than her fair share of really
stupid things, she also knew damn well that she had entirely too much self-respect to denigrate
herself like that now. Leave it to a man like Logan James to single out and prey upon girls like those
girls who hadn't yet learned that there was more to life than just being some rock star's plaything .
..
`Now you sound completely preachy,' the voice in her head stated.
Maybe she did, but still . . . as disgusted as she was by the appalling display, she couldn't help but
feel a little sorry for those girls, too.
The front door opened a few minutes later, and Jordan ducked. The sounds of the women's voices
were easily discerned, and Jordan scrunched down a little more when the flicker of headlights
approached.
Are you sure you have to make an early night of it? one of the twins asked, her pout obvious in
her tone.

Jordan shifted slightly so that she could see through the network of branches, and she smothered a
gasp as she slowly shook her head. Logan laughed, the jerkthe very naked jerk. He didn't even
have the decency to get a pair of pants on before he'd strolled outside, and dark or not, that was just
a damn stupid thing to do, in her opinion. His property wasn't nearly as secure as it ought to be, was
it? What if some paparazzi had scaled the wall like she'd done? That's all the idiot neededhis
penis plastered all over the morning's papers . . . Sorry, ladies . . . I've got an early morning
interview tomorrow. Gotta be my best, right?
A very large, very tall, very intimidating looking man got out of the car but didn't shut it off, loping
over to the group with a wide, broad grin as he chuckled under his breath.
Need somethin', Logan? he drawled.
Logan chuckled as the twins whined a little more. Ladies, this is Kurt. He'll take you home. Hell,
he'll even check out your place to make sure no one broke in and is lying in wait to molest you
while you were gone.
Kurt chuckled back. Take them home, huh?
Please.
One of the girls uttered a small, `hrumph'.
Can we stop and get some beer? she asked in a plaintive tone.
Oh, I think that could be arranged, Kurtreplied. Logan, you know about that, right?
Logan nodded once. Yeah, I knew about that.
Kurt shrugged. I figured . . . Now, ladies . . . you ready to go?
They seemed reluctant to leave, of course, but they did, linking arms with Kurtas the latter led the
way to the running car. The girls stopped long enough to blow kisses at the miscreant rock-star
before ducking into the vehicle. Kurt gunned the engine, swinging the car in a tight circle before
screeching out of the driveway, leaving a lingering stench of burned rubber in the balmy night air.
Logan didn't move to go inside, though. Standing on the porch until the car sped through the gates
and out of view, he heaved a sigh and slowly shook his head So, you gonna stay in my bushes all
night, Jordie or you want to come inside?
Jordan squeaked out an indignant yelp that she cut off abruptly as she shrank back into the shadows
as far as she could. He couldn't know that she was there! That was ridiculous.
He sighed and shuffled off the porch, taking the few strides necessary to separate himself and her
before he reached out, grabbed her wrist, and tugged her out of the foliage.
You suck at spying, he pointed out with a lazy grin.
I wasn't spying, she blurted suddenly, glad that the darkness hid her blush from his entirely tooperceptive eyes. He stood in a shaft of moonlight, though, and damned if the bastard wasn't grinning
from ear to ear. Your security just sucks.

Oh, my security caught you on camera. They also knew that you're my attorney, so they let it pass.
By the way, why don't you just use the front gate next time?
She snorted, completely irritated. You let me wait for hours!
He frowned. Did the boys did tell you I was busy? Damn, if I'd known you'd be over, I would've
told them to interrupt me, twins or no twins. From now on, you'll be my priority, Bitty-Belle.
Jordan heaved a frustrated sigh then turned on her heel, prepared to make a grand exit by stomping
away in a complete huff. Logan was faster, slipping an arm around her waist and drawing him
firmly against his chest.
Give it up, baby . . . I know damn well that you were watching . . . and I know damn well that you
liked what you saw . . .
She froze, unable to move, unable to think as a completely unfamiliar and savage jolt of desire shot
through her.
Wh-what? she breathed, swallowing hard to force down the sudden thickness that was blocking
her windpipe.
He chuckled in her earthroaty, softvastly disturbing. You know, I never would have though
that you'd be so fucking hot under your business suits, he went on. I can't believe that Rosalie
didn't fuck the shit out of you . . .
With a gasp as he ground his hips against her back, she jerked back to throw him off balance then
yanked herself out of his grasp, whipping around to glower at him.
You're disgusting! she bellowed, her anger igniting once more. Nasty, gross, sick! Let me tell
you something, Mr. James: women were not put on this earth just to fornicate with you! You have to
be the vilest, most loathsome bastard alive, andand why the hell are you laughing?
And he was laughinglaughing so hard that no sound was actually coming out of him. Shoulders
shaking, body quaking.
Jordan was in the middle of contemplating the idea of beating him senseless when his hand shot out
again, and he turned around, heading for the house and dragging her along behind him.
He was still laughing when he closed the door and slumped against it inside. She might have
protested a little more, but the huge poster mounted on the short wall across from the door had
drawn her attention. Logan James in nothing but a pair of underpants that he was holding down just
a too low, he wasn't smiling in the picture, but he didn't have to be. All the musclesshe'd have
thought that the image had been airbrushed if he hadn't been standing in front of her naked..The
way he was posed, the briefs didn't actually cover him, either. Half of his large cock was showing,
the other half was delineated so well in the tight undergarment that absolutely nothing was left to
the imagination. For several seconds, Jordan stood, transfixed, caught somewhere between abject
disgust and a deep appreciation of the artistic quality of the photograph . . .
Ah, the one and only time in my adult life that I've ever worn a pair of those, he quipped. Wanna
see my house?

She blinked at the incongruous statement and question, still a little too culture-shocked to object
when he took her hand again and led her to the left.
The wall the print was mounted on wasn't as tall as the room and wasn't as wide, either; like an open
air foyer. He led her down four steps into a small alcove. The length of the room was nothing but a
configuration of windows that ran from floor to ceiling. A number of plants were displayed around
the room, and in the middle of the darkly stained hardwood floorteak, maybewere two off
white chaise lounges, richly upholstered in padded velvet. They looked comfortablereally
comfortable. Logan chuckled again but didn't bother turning on a light.
I meditate in here, he said. She shot him a quick glance and shook her head.
You meditate? Ri-i-ight . . .
He chuckled again and shrugged. No, I do . . . I'm a real mess if I don't.
She snorted but didn't answer as he took her hand and dragged her up the steps into the main living
room again. Wrinkling her nose since she'd seen quite enough of that particular room through the
window, she was vaguely surprised to see that the room had been straightened up though the
remnants of dinner still sat on the table nestled in the far corner near the window where she'd
watched.
This room, too, had the same hardwood floors though a huge plush area rug covered a lot of it. Rich
burgundies and greens with accents of blues and golds, the rug was Oriental in style and
undoubtedly very, very expensive. A thick brown fur rug graced the hearth near a gigantic fireplace.
On the far side of the room near a wall that seemed to be nothing but a configuration of windows
flanking two huge lead glass doors stood the strangest looking metal sculpture she'd ever seen. So
chaotic that it appeared to be little more than wires and strips in no real order, she stared at it. The
longer she stared, though, the more her perception of the piece changed. There was an understated
quality to it, almost erotic, very evocative . . .
Pretty cool, huh? A friend of mine made that, he said, staring at the sculpture in a wholly
appreciative way. You want a glass of wine'?
Shaking herself out of her reverie, Jordan turned away from the sculpture and shook her head. No,
thank you.
Suit yourself, he replied, stopping at the table beside the steel bench sofa to retrieve his wine
glass before sauntering off toward the table to refill the glass.
Lip curling as she thought of those women eating dinner with him before they took turns being used
by the odious man, Jordan was abruptly reminded exactly why she'd come over here. Taking a deep
breath and interrupting Logan's babble about the different things that took up space in the large
room, she whipped around to face him, only to stop short when she remembered a moment too late
that the unsalvageable man was still very, very naked.
Mr. James, will you please put some clothes on?
He blinked and glanced down at himself before casting her a cheeky grin.
I could, or you could just get naked with me, he suggested a little too hopefully.

Jordan sighed and counted to twenty then on to fifty for good measure. I don't think so, she
replied icily. I didn't come over here for a . . . social call.
Right, right, he agreed indulgently. You came over to crawl around in my bushes.
Sucking in a breath so sharply that it whistled, Jordan resumed the mental count before she dared
trust herself to speak to him again.
I came over here so that you could read and sign my contract, she insisted, digging into her case
for the papers that she'd grabbed almost as an afterthought.
He chuckled again but moved away, swiping up the tattered jeans that were carelessly tossed on the
floor. He tugged them on but didn't bother to fasten them. Jordan figured that was as much of a
concession as she was likely to get.
I still don't see what the big deal is, he said as he moved toward her again. I'm at home, for
fuck's sake . . .
Don't make me add a naked clause to it, she shot back, sighing. She was really starting to hate
that sexy grin of his .
I got it; I got it . . . you sure you don't want to see the rest of my house first, Bitty-Belle?
I just want you to sign the contract, she pointed out. Now if you'll just Cutting herself off
abruptly as he tilted her chin and dabbed at her cheeks with a tissue.
Dirt, he said, in a completely casual, friendly way. Fingers warm and infinitely gentle, he didn't
smile as he worked and Jordan almost forgot that he was naked.
Your eyes are green, she murmured.
He blinked, his gaze slowly coming to rest on her. Yeah, so?
They were brown the other day.
He smiled a real smilea true smilea smile that lacked the hint of a smirk or even the slightly
mocking overtone that she'd caught glimpses of before. The effect was astounding, and for several
moments, all she could do was stare.
Contacts, he admitted with a shrug, letting his hands drop away.
Afraid to let people see you as you really are? she challenged.
He chuckled. Let me see that contract, Bitty-Belle.
She shook her head, wondering if she hadn't struck a little too close to home.
He glanced at it, flipping the pages so fast that she knew that he hadn't read them. Narrowing her
gaze, she crossed her arms over her chest, ready to growl at him the moment he said something
stupid.
To her surprise, he shuffled over to the large desk near the wide French doors and scrawled his

signature on the last page.

Here you go, he said, refolding the docket as he ambled over to her once more. Signed, sealed,
and delivered . . . I'm assuming you didn't want me to sign it in blood . . .
Caught off guardshe really hadn't expected him to give in without an argument or even give in, at
all she took it and stashed it into her briefcase again.
Look, I understand that you're used to a . . . more decadent lifestyle, she began. He opened his
mouth to say something, and she held up a hand to stop him. And I'm not doing this out of spite..
Even if you really, really wan to, he grinned and her shoulders slumped because, yes, there was a
small, childish part of her that wanted to see him shackled and away from the public.
I tell you what, he said suddenly, his eyes lighting with suspect inspiration. If you don't want me
to fuck anyone, fine . . . but what about you? You're my attorney so that wouldn't constitute a
violation, right? You got great tits, you probably have the wettest, most delicious pussy. Plus, you've
seen for yourself, I'm not such a bad lay.
Jordan's mouth fell open in complete shock. Just when she'd thought that he couldn't get any worse,
that he couldn't be more outrageous, there he went and proved her wrong. Reacting before she
thought it through, she took the few steps that separated them, hauling her arm back and cracking
the palm of her hand across his cheek.
You're the sickest, foulest, most miserable bastard I've ever, ever met I don't care if you rot in
prison! For that matter, I hope to God you get slammed with the maximum sentence allowable by
law! Forget the contract! Find yourself another attorney, because I quit!
He didn't say anything as she stormed out of the house, despite the slow smile that spread over his
features as he slowly, methodically rubbed his cheek. She hated him. Really, really hated him, and
for reasons that he couldn't explain, the idea that she hated him . . . was intriguing. Oh, maybe she
honestly believed that she did, but that could change. Oh hell yes, that could definitely change.
She'd wanted him. He knew she had. It was all over her face when he caught her in the bushes
pupils dilated, cheeks pink, breathing fast and rapid. It did bother him on a certain level, how the
hell had he gotten so invested in her in just one meeting, but he didn't question it, either . . .
Jordan Day, he murmured to himself, lifting the tissue he'd used to wipe her cheeks clean to his
nose, breathing in the scent of her as he closed his eyes for a long moment, as his smile widened
dangerously. Game on . . .