The Pleasure Planner by Larkin Rose

Author:Larkin Rose
Language: rus
Format: epub, pdf

The Pleasure Planner

ChaPTer Ten

Logan took several steps back, her lips curled in

distaste—the scent of another woman on Bree’s

skin provoked a raging torrent of anger and jealousy.

She had no right at all to feel anything, let alone jealousy.

Yet, she couldn’t fight off the biting sting of the green-eyed

monster. Bree was hers, or rather, tonight, she wanted her

to be…wanted her to be hers, and hers alone. She suddenly

felt like a kid with a new toy, and wanted to covet her prized

possession, but that sexy package reeked of someone else’s

scent.

“What’s wrong?” Bree sat up and reached for her, her

expression begging Logan to come back to finish what they

both craved.

“You smell like you’ve just fucked someone else.”

Logan felt the sting of her own words, the snarl behind each

syllable, and she didn’t care. She resisted the urge to scream

at Bree, to shake her, and then fuck her until all thoughts of

any other woman faded to mist.

Bree’s smile only fueled her rage. Logan sucked back

a growl.

“It’s a long, complicated story, and that relationship

is now over.” Bree pushed off the press and took a step

• 105 •

larkin rose

forward, but Logan stepped back, sure if Bree touched her

she’d combust with sexual hunger. Or worse, not care that

she’d come at the hands of another woman, and fuck her

anyway.

Logan shook her head, mainly to knock the

uncharacteristic thoughts from her mind. She didn’t do

jealousy; it wasn’t in her nature. But dammit if she wasn’t

ready to sling Bree over her knee for a spanking to make her

forget the hands that’d just roamed her curves.

Logan clenched her fists. “You just fucked another

woman, and now you want me to fuck you as a consolation

prize because she dumped you?”

Bree gasped and her eyes widened. “No, that’s not…let

me explain.”

Logan suddenly wanted to retract every word, conscious

that she’d just stepped over the imaginary boundary. “I

don’t want to hear your fucking explanations. Do I look that

desperate?”

Bree’s glare turned steely and her eyes filled dangerously

fast with hatred. “Desperate? You dare to call me desperate?

So it wasn’t you I interrupted on your knees in front of Penny

Carrow?” Bree closed the space between them, her fiery

glare pinning Logan in her spot. “I don’t recall ever being

desperate enough to fuck a client. You’re nothing more than

an artistic whore.”

Logan opened her mouth to defend herself, and then

realized she didn’t have a defense. It was true. She’d fucked

her clients—many of them. Was it to keep them coming back,

to keep her pockets filled with the thick tips they seemed

eager to stuff in her faded Levi’s? She was fooling herself if

she tried to believe anything different. Had she done it for

the fuck, or for the fame? Hadn’t she fucked hundreds of

women, clients or not? Would it matter either way to Bree

• 106 •

The Pleasure Planner

to hear that pathetic excuse? Bree would only believe the

picture painted before her, and Logan couldn’t blame her.

Bree was right. She was desperate, but for what, she didn’t

know. It sure as hell wasn’t the free pussy delivered to her

doorstep by the rich and famous, or anyone else for that

matter.

“You’re a coward and a disgrace to your grandparents.

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