by Zoe York
“I’ll just put this down for you.” She set the mug down on the nearest counter, then turned back to him—and found him very, very close.
Not touching. But close and warm and big, and—
It would be so much easier if she could only stop thinking about his body, she told herself. You never thought about it before yesterday. Go back to that. You’re an expert in not noticing how sexy he is.
But his eyes were dark, bottomless pools that pulled her in and wouldn’t let her go. “I don’t have a lot of practice at this,” he said, his voice full of gravel. “Talking. Feelings.”
She forced herself to take a step back. Her chest ached. Yes, she wanted to burrow into his chest and let him hold her and tell her it would all work out.
But she wasn’t sure that was what was going to happen, so until she was sure, she was staying safely out of touching range.
Logan’s touch was far too distracting to trust—like the rest of him now.
“Drink your coffee,” she said, trying to remember the now clear-as-mud plan she’d had when she woke up.
Right.
She’d wanted to storm into his room.
And then she’d chickened out—which she was doing all over again right now.
A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he reached for the mug and slowly lifted it to his mouth. His eyes never left her face, so she did the only thing she could think of. She turned around and busied herself with setting breakfast on the table.
When she turned around again, Logan’s eyes were trained right where her butt had been.
“Breakfast?” she asked weakly.
“Nope.” He put his mug down. “What were you thinking about this morning? What got you up so early?”
“You,” she breathed. “And the other night.”
He nodded. “Maybe we should have talked about it yesterday.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I needed yesterday just the way it was. A breather in between…”
“In between what?”
Her past and her future. It wasn’t much. Any self-help expert would probably say she was rushing headlong into a mistake, but she didn’t need an expert to tell her what felt right. “Between grief and whatever comes next. I needed to take a moment before I kissed you again, because I wasn’t sure why we kissed in the first place. I thought maybe it was for the wrong reasons.”
“Before you kiss me again?” He leaned back against the counter, and her gaze dropped to his abs. Lower. Oh, God.
“If I came on too strong or something, I want to fix that. Your pace, for real.” He frowned. “But Tor, we can’t put the genie back in the bottle. I want you. I can’t hide that any longer.”
“I see that,” she whispered. In fact, she really couldn’t take her eyes off it.
Now who was objectifying who?
“He’s not going to bite.” He laughed. “Although I could. If you want me to.”
A little squeak slipped past her lips and she pressed them tighter together as she shook her head. No biting. Heat flooded through her at the idea of his teeth on her skin. Definitely…no biting. At all. Not even on her nipples, or her inner thighs, or…
He moved closer and she stepped back. He reached for her hand and she spun around. His back collided with hers and once again she was in his arms, his fingers grazing the line of skin along her belly where her tank only sort-of met her shorts.
She closed her eyes as he held her tight. “When you said you were weak for kissing me…”
“I’m sorry about that,” He murmured. “We got all mixed up at that point, didn’t we?”
“Maybe. I thought you meant it was too complicated, too much, that I was too much, and—”
“Never,” he growled, his breath sweeping across her temple. His mouth settled next to her ear. “You are perfect just exactly as you are. My only weakness was giving in to my feelings when you needed space.”
Her heart leapt. She didn’t want space. “What feelings?”
“I love you.” His palms spread wide against her sides. Her heart hammered hard in her chest, not wanting to imagine that the touch was possessive, but knowing it was—for better or for worse. “I love you, love you. With my heart and soul and all that shit.”
“Don’t go getting all romantic on me,” she said weakly, because even in his characteristically curt way, she knew what he meant—and it made her head spin.
“I didn’t want to stop the other day. I thought I should, so I did, because I always want to do right by you. But you gotta know it took every ounce of willpower I had. And going all day yesterday only hugging you a few times, that was torture for me.”
“Logan…”
“I’m right here.”
She pressed her eyes shut and gave in to the heat blooming inside her. The hot, hungry desire he’d ignited. “What did you want to do?”
“Everything.” He groaned and pressed his face into her hair. “When you were putting sunscreen on, I wanted to strip you out of your swimsuit and taste you all over. When you folded into my arms last night, I wanted to carry you to my room and sink into you. One day, I want you to be mine, Tori. I’m not fooling around. But I know you’re hurting, and I can be a patient man.”
“This is crazy.”
“Yeah. Totally insane. Doesn’t change the fact that’s how I feel about you. And I know this is the worst time to tell you. I get that. But I kissed you, and I can’t take that back. And somehow I gave you the erroneous impression that I was conflicted about that, about wanting you. I’m not. Maybe I should have told you sooner,” he muttered in her ear.
Her heart lurched. “That would have been just as hard,” she whispered, twisting her head so she could see his profile. “And what would have been the point?”
He rolled his shoulders, the planes of his chest hard as they bumped against her back. “Maybe there wasn’t, then. Maybe we needed to wait.”
“You’re still on the other side of the country, Logan.”
“Not right now. Not every time I’ve visited you.”
“And I’ve come to you. But then we have to say goodbye again.”
“Maybe now we’ll stop saying goodbye, and start saying…” He shrugged. “I dunno. How about, ‘I can’t wait to do it all over again?’”
“Do what?”
He squeezed her hips with his hands as he turned her slowly, reverently, and lifted her up to sit on the counter. His face softened as he leaned in close and cupped her cheeks in his hands. “This.”
Chapter Eleven
Logan was kissing Tori before he could stop himself. Her lips were soft against his, and she tasted like coffee. Breakfast might forever give him a hard-on now.
He knew the smart thing to do would be to sit down, eat waffles, and talk about their feelings.
Fuck that shit. He wasn’t waiting a minute more to show Tori what was in his heart.
Besides, his words were always getting twisted up. But when he kissed her before—and every time he touched her—all the pieces came together.
He had to trust that she’d feel it too.
With a little sigh, she opened for him, and he delved deeper, showing her how much he wanted her before back off again. His lips never stopped moving against hers, tasting and sipping. Teasing a little. They had all the time in the world, and he was going to take his damn time in loving her the way she deserved.
She was soft and smooth beneath his touch as he began a delicate, careful exploration of her skin. Her chest rose and fell as he traced his fingertips up her thighs and around the sweet swell of her hips. Her waist fit perfectly in his cupped hands, and when she hitched her legs around his hips and pulled him in, he knew they weren’t going to stop until she screamed his name.
How had he kept his feelings a secret for so long? How had he almost let her marry someone else? He was damn lucky, and never again would he let himself be blind to how potent their connection was. Now that he’d stormed through the brick wall around his desire for her, it
was madness to think about retreating.
His fingers hooked under the fabric of her tank, and they both froze. “May I?” he asked, his voice raw. She nodded, her hair brushing against his face as they looked down together and he peeled the fabric up.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t already imagined her breasts a million times before. Seen them up close in his peripheral vision. Felt them pressed against him.
But this was the first time she’d know just how much he was affected by this soft, feminine part of her. This was the first time he’d be allowed to cup them and taste them, and his cock was throbbing at the promise.
His fingertips found them first as he worked the snug, thin fabric up her torso. A soft crease of skin, then warm, swollen curves. He twisted his wrists around and went palm-first under her shirt, suddenly desperate for the heavy flesh to fill his hands.
Two things happened at once. He found Tori’s nipples, firm buds that sent an almost painful jolt through his core, and she slid to the edge of the counter, finding his erection between her legs.
And that was just about enough of so-called kissing that Logan could handle.
“Come back to bed with me,” he whispered against her mouth. “Let me take you to my bed, Tor.” He was pleading now, rocking hard against her as she sucked on his lower lip and writhed against his touch under her shirt.
But damn it, if he didn’t get her horizontal, he was going to end up fucking here right there in the kitchenette, and that wasn’t how it was going to be their first time.
Maybe their second or third, after breakfast.
“Tori,” Logan ground out, and she tried to drag herself out of the kiss long enough to think about what he’d just asked.
Oh right, his room. She nodded. “Yes.”
Then she was in the air, his hands under her bottom, and he was carrying her to his bed. The blankets were shoved to the bottom of it, the sheets still warm from where he slept on them, and she only had a split-second to process all of that before he was on top of her again, crowding her into the mattress.
Yes. She wanted him on top of her, big and heavy and real.
This was happening. Holy crap. She and Logan were making out in his bed. Half-way to naked and it felt totally right.
This time, their kisses were harder. Deeper. She couldn’t stop touching him, and every time she hit the waistband of his shorts, she nudged them a touch lower. Edged her fingers inside and stroked new-to-her Logan skin.
A hot thrill chased through her as he mimicked her movements, rubbing his knuckles along the elastic of her panties inside her sleep shorts.
“You want me to touch you, Tor? You ready for that?”
She registered his touch first, then his words. Everything was happening a beat before she knew it, like she was underwater.
Was your first time with someone supposed to be perfect? Didn’t that set the bar too high? And they hadn’t even gotten all the way naked yet.
She arched her hips, rolling her mound against his questing fingers. “Please.”
He tugged at the skimpy fabric and slid his hand inside, making her tummy quiver before he circled her hips and palmed her bare ass. He braced his other arm on the mattress next to her head, his fingers playing with her hair as he gave her slow-as-molasses, dirty-as-hell kisses. His tongue fucked into her mouth, his teeth scraped against her lips, and in between each filthy pass, he dragged his eyes over her face, turning her insides to molten lava with each hungry glance.
She was so ready for the panties and shorts to disappear, but Logan had other ideas. He swallowed her moan of dissent as he removed his hand from her panties and grabbed her questing fingers. “Hang on,” he whispered. “I need to taste the rest of you first.”
He tugged her tank top up her torso and she helped him get rid of it. A look of clear adoration passing over his face. It was almost reverent, and her heart softened as he rolled his glance back up to her face. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” he whispered. “I’ve always thought that, Tor. But this is blowing my mind.” His eyes darkened. “You’ve got the prettiest tits. Seriously.”
She giggled. “Classy.”
“Classy is overrated.”
True story. He ducked his head, his stubble scratching against her neck and down her chest as he breathed her in, and she didn’t want anything else. No roses or fancy suits, romantic words or polite distance. She just wanted Logan’s body on hers, every inch of him loving every inch of her. Real and hot and blowing her mind.
He cupped her breasts together, groaning about the size of them in a good way, and she arched her back. Yes. She needed this. She needed him to tell her she was perfect for him. Big boobs, strong legs, soft tummy. All of it. She wanted him to worship her.
Tell him that. Easier said than done. She compromised with her internal girl-power dictator by rubbing her fingers through his hair, urging him closer to her nipples.
He got the message in a serious way. “You like it hard or soft?” he asked as he circled one peak with the tip of his tongue.
“Yes,” she retorted. Seriously, both sounded just fine by her.
He laughed and sucked her into his mouth. Soft, and then hard. And both were amazing. His tongue pulsed against her flesh as he pulled on her, sending a sharp stab of want straight to her clit. She wanted his mouth there, too.
“Oh, that feels so good,” she breathed.
“You like that?”
“Mmm.”
“You like my mouth? God, you taste better than I imagined.” He fluttered his tongue against her nipple, then let go of her with a wet slurp that she’d never forget. Rising above her, he finally pulled off her bottoms. She reached for his waistband but he gently stopped her with his fingers around her wrist. “Not done with my mouth yet, babe.”
Mind reader. She shook as she lay back on the bed. Her legs were splayed wide open, and he was looking at her in the bright morning light, but the shyness she expected didn’t come. His gaze was too warm to let anything but good feelings linger.
He shifted backward on the bed, lowering himself between her legs. The air crackled as he kissed her belly, her thighs, and when he ducked his head to kiss her in between, right there, she wanted to just die from the goodness of it.
“Oh, I like that…” she licked her lips and rolled her hips. “Yes, just like…oh my God. Logan!”
He lazily circled his tongue again through the languorous path he’d just blazed before lifting his head. “Yes?”
“Never stop doing that.”
“That’s the plan.”
It didn’t take him long to work her up and send her flying into a sustained climax that he masterfully stretched for her until she clutched at his head and begged him to stop.
“But you said never stop,” he laughed as he crawled back up her body.
She kissed him soundly, licking the taste of herself off his mouth, and shook her head. “That was crazy talk from a desperate woman. Besides, that made me hungry for a taste of my own.”
He let her shove him onto his back, lacing his hands behind his head as she reached for his shorts. The casual pose belied a tension in his body, though, and she felt it too. Her heart hammered in her chest. They were really doing this. All the way naked. Both of them.
She couldn’t wait. And she was terrified, too. She squeezed her hands tighter in the fabric, then abandoned that and just went for his waistband. She needed her hands on his cock. Needed to feel his vulnerability pulsing against her palm.
“This okay?” she asked under her breath, teasing him as she got her first look at the erection she’d been grinding against. He groaned something about touching him already, but she needed to look first.
He was beautiful. Long and thick, with a pink crown and a slight curve. The heavy length bobbed to a firm stand as she tugged his shorts down to his hips. He made her mouth water, and she slowly curled her fingers around his erection.
Oh yes. Hot and hard. Smooth skin and throbbing muscle.
Her first stroke made him groan, and she slid her attention up to his face, watching as he reacted to her touch. The muscles in his chest and shoulders and neck all strained as he held himself back.
“Good?” she asked. “Softer or harder?”
He laughed roughly, sounding quite affected. “Yes.”
Turnabout was the most fun game ever. She lowered her head and sucked just the head into her mouth, soft and sweet, then bobbed a little deeper and tugged a little harder.
His hands tangled in her hair and she felt his torso flex as he tried to sit up. Blindly, she reached up and pushed him back down again.
She knew what he wanted. She wanted it, too. But the taste of him, little bursts of Logan against her tongue as she worked him up and down with her mouth and her hand… she wanted to imprint this on her memory before they went further.
Inhaling deeply, she pushed him into her throat, letting him feel her work to take him. He shouted her name and she smiled—sort of—around his length. Yes, yes, yes.
“Enough,” he pleaded. “More later. Please. I want inside you, Tori. Let me love you.”
Magic words. Healing words. She pulled off, her mouth wet, and she let him spin her around so he was on top again.
They fit together exactly right. He was hard where she was soft, and their limbs seemed to naturally entwine as they kissed. But they needed something else before they satisfied their shared desire, and unless Logan was a total dog, they weren’t immediately at hand.
“Condom,” she breathed.
“Fuck.” Logan spit out the curse, then shoved himself up onto his knees. His eyes glittered as he looked down at her, his eyes wide. God, she loved how his mind worked. She could see the gears twisting, thinking about alternatives. “Didn’t bring any. Wasn’t planning on this. But we’ll make do. Get creative.”
She grinned. “It’s fine. I have some.” She wiggled out from beneath him and scampered to her room. She’d thought about taking them out of her suitcase when she did her last once-over. Thank God she hadn’t.
When she came back, he was frowning slightly, and he’d tilted his head to the side. “Why?”