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packed up her paints and canvas and moved inside her house. She side-stepped the boxes of tile, plumbing and construction supplies littering her living room. Not for first time, she regretted not allowing Logan to take control of the renovations. When he had seen the plans on her dining room table a few months ago, he had offered to oversee the project for her. He had experience with historic homes and jumping through the numerous hoops required to get approvals and permits.
    Although the company he shared with his brother typically handled commercial construction, they had a small residential side that tackled jobs for friends and family and a few charities around the city. But she had wanted to do this herself and had let her stubborn streak get her into this mess. Living in construction was driving her crazy. She really wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take.
    Blaire dropped her armload of supplies on the kitchen table and looked around, at a loss for what to do next. She considered eating an early dinner but food wasn’t what she craved at the moment. No, what she really wanted was Logan, naked and between her thighs. She could just feel his lips on her neck, his rough hands against her skin. Her face flushed at the image that streaked across her brain.
    Feeling turned on and excited, she locked her front door and scurried upstairs. The second her feet touched the hardwood floors of her bedroom, she started peeling off clothing and dropping it haphazardly. She strode to her shower, flung back the curtain, and lifted the lever.
    Wincing in anticipation of an ungodly racket, she slowly turned the shower knob toward hot. Pipes clanged and shook as water snaked its way through the ancient plumbing. The shower head vibrated and sputtered before spewing water. She warily eyed the shower head, wondering whether or not it would survive yet another shower.
    She just couldn’t wait for the plumber and his crew to start their work. Two more days. Just two more days…
    Moving away from the tub, she opened the linen closet and grabbed a towel. She snatched a hair clip from the counter and secured her hair in a loose bun. With an outstretched hand, she tested the water’s temperature. Satisfied, she slipped her towel over the bar which badly needed replacing and stepped into the tub. She tugged the curtain closed, and for a long moment, she simply stood beneath the warm spray of water.
    Lightly scented body wash foamed as she kneaded a pouf between her hands. With slow swipes, she pulled the lathered pouf across her wet skin, reveling in the silky sensation of the soap. She rinsed the pouf and hung it on a shower caddy hook. Eyes closed, she allowed her hands to slide down her soap-slicked sides, to follow the curve of her hips and snake along her stomach. She imagined Logan standing just behind her, his fingers gripping her waist, his thick cock pressed against her backside.
    Teething her plump lower lip, she slipped her fingers between her legs. Her clit jumped at the first sensation of her fingertips gliding across the pink nub. A soft whimper escaped her lips. She angled her hips forward as her fingers slid between her folds, petting, penetrating. She thrust two fingers into her core, moving them slowly in and out as her mind conjured visions of Logan kneeling before her, his fingers in her pussy, his tongue on her clit.
    Legs shaking, she leaned her forehead against the wet tile for support. Standup orgasms were harder to achieve in reality than they were in fantasy. Her free hand squeezed her breast, pinching and rolling the overly sensitive nipple. Desperate to come, she moved her hand down her sudsy front until her fingers found her clit. Rubbing tight circles with one hand, Blaire continued thrusting into her slick channel with the second.
    Her hips rolled and rocked. Quaking breaths shook her body. Her lower stomach tightened as ecstasy built between her legs. Hot and pulsing, it demanded her full attention.