by Petrova, Em
She claimed he pushed her away. He’d never held any woman closer.
Their relationship was unequal? Never in his life did he feel more balance than when he was with Jordana.
Not telling her about what he’d done with Triton Press sooner? A regret. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d known it wasn’t smart to keep it from her, but surely, she had to know her creativity ultimately did the hard work.
He took a shower, a long one, letting the water pour over his tense back. After dressing, he switched on the TV, even though he had no intention of watching anything. An ad came on about a bestselling author’s novel being made into a movie next month and his heart squeezed.
Jordana would be published next year. Ever since she told him the news, he’d been toying with several ideas of how they’d celebrate. A party at the Ritz with her friends and family, if she wanted. Or perhaps a trip to New York City. A two-week cruise. He’d gauged what she would’ve liked the most, and he’d decided spring in Paris would be perfect. Couldn’t wait to take her there.
Though he’d been to France many times, he imagined it would be ten times better with Jordana at his side. The way she saw places and things, especially for the first time, was like viewing the world with new eyes, even if he’d seen it a thousand times already. Part of the reason why he hadn’t tired of taking her absolutely everywhere—and following her wherever she went. From the farmers’ market to the library to a duck pond, she exuded wonder and enchantment in everything. She lived for pure pleasure, and even when he was reluctant, she’d cajole him to do the same.
The way things were going now, it didn’t look like he’d be planning anything with her, let alone a celebration next spring.
He’d never planned something so far in the future with a girlfriend, but he’d made the reservations without thinking twice. Why?
Because Jordana wasn’t just some girlfriend. She was much more. He thought she knew that. Hadn’t he been showing her in every way possible?
It wasn’t enough. She wanted to hear him say those three words. Three little syllables that so many people said at whim, on a daily basis, without meaning it. A simple declarative sentence that was hollow if the actions weren’t there to back them up. What was better? To say I love you, or to show it?
If he showed her how much he cared, then why was he losing her?
The offer to help her pay her rent had been given on impulse. Desire was humming through his veins at the time, and the need to find a quick solution to her moving woes had come to the forefront, along with his own selfish motive to bring her near him. The rents were exorbitant in his neighborhood, and even though he got the impression she was wise with her finances, she didn’t make enough to live within his sphere.
He, on the other hand, had millions to spare. It was a rational offer. It wasn’t as if he offered to pay for her rent entirely, just the difference. Essentially, he would be like a roommate, responsible for his half. After all, he’d be able to spend more time with her there since the commute would be cut considerably. She’d save money on gas, time on the road, and lessen the headaches of being in traffic. And she wouldn’t have to take on a real roommate to cover the expense. What was the problem here?
Not once had he ever considered doing this for a woman. No doubt, the ones in his past would’ve jumped at the chance to have a place half paid for. But not Jordana. She didn’t want to borrow one of his cars either, even though they sat in the garage most of the week. Again, he wasn’t giving them to her, just wanted to let her borrow one for an indefinite amount of time. The Jag, the Mercedes, and especially the Tesla were better than the decade-old sedan she drove. Jordana deserved the best.
Her words rang in his head.
I don’t want to lose myself in you.
It wasn’t as if he’d tell her what to do, how to dress, where to go. Did she think he would assume he “owned” her like a kept woman if she said yes to these things?
He sighed.
No doubt, that’s exactly what she thought.
Jordana had been independent and self-reliant since her parents died. She was used to taking care of others. Now someone wanted to take care of her and she refused it. Not unless he professed his love, perhaps.
In his household, the L-word was rarely, if ever, used. He never heard his parents say it to one another, and he had been told love was something for the sentimental and needy. The word held so much influence. It transferred, stole, and created power from one person to the next, and Logan knew by saying it, he’d be exposing a new vein.
Even though she was unlike any woman he’d ever known, it was scary to surrender to these deep feelings. She was perfect for him, but a strong man couldn’t submit to perfection.
Even his mother gave her blessing, something he didn’t expect. When Jordana told him how she’d confronted her, he’d been shocked, to say the least, and impressed she stood up to his overbearing mother when most women wilted in her presence. Jordana even dared his mother to get to know her, and she didn’t hold a grudge against her because of her actions.
Jordana was truly one in a million.
“Do your best to keep this one, Logan,” his mother had instructed over the phone. “She’s got style and guts. I like her.”
Though her opinion hardly mattered, her shift in attitude toward Jordana made things a whole lot easier. Too bad he kept making things harder.
Neil texted him, asking if he wanted to meet for drinks, and Logan considered it, tired of his own miserable company.
Just as he grabbed his keys, a message on his phone indicated he had an email. He stopped to check it in case it was work-related.
The sender? VegasClick Photography. Curious, he opened the email:
Happy Holidays!
We apologize for the delay in sending your photo from the Stone and McAvoy gala. Technical difficulties. Hope to see you again!
The VegasClick Team
What photo? He opened the attachment and his heart tripped at the sight.
Whatever sign he needed to know Jordana was the one for him, to erase his fear, he got it.
***
Jordana waved goodbye to Casey and started the walk up to her building.
The search for a new place was triple exhausting. She’d found a couple apartments that were okay but nothing she wanted to commit to. It was Christmastime, and the very last thing she wanted to do was spend it home hunting.
Regret had kept her awake every night. She’d pushed Logan away and practically accused him of being too kind and generous, which now seemed so silly in hindsight. Of course, she wouldn’t accept his offer, but she’d be sure to show her appreciation he even suggested it. Over the last couple days, she’d come to realize their relationship wasn’t as unequal as she’d perceived it to be.
It’d been fear Logan had all the power because of his money and the fact he had more influence in his world than she ever would. Those things translated to dinners at five-star restaurants, diamonds on her wrist, and meeting the movers and shakers of the Bay, but they didn’t bear much weight on their relationship.
Logan never flaunted what he could provide versus what she could, only asking for her company in his cold world of the upper class. Yet, she’d thought it was too much to ask because she wanted something in return.
It’d been premature and selfish to demand such a thing from a man who didn’t know love like she did. Who’d never witnessed it in his parents or in a woman who didn’t have a second agenda for his wealth and status. Even though she didn’t demand material possessions, she’d still behaved like a pouty, ungrateful child and she wished she could go back and react differently.
As she got to the top of the stairs, she noticed a package sitting in front of her door. It was small and rectangular with no return address. She walked into her apartment, and after shedding her coat and hat, she opened it, revealing a shiny black box. Carefully moving the delicate tissue paper aside, her lips slowly parted with a soft intake of breath.<
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It was a framed picture of her and Logan, taken in Vegas at the party. While she looked up at him with a mischievous light in her eyes, he looked down at her, grinning, his arm locked around her waist. The photographer had taken this without them knowing; she remembered the moment well.
She took the frame out of the box, and a card fell to her feet.
Picking it up, she read:
The night I fell in love with you.
Her knees buckled and she sank to the sofa, hands trembling.
Just then, her phone rang. Logan. She sucked in a shaky breath and answered. “How did you ever find this?”
“I’ll tell you later. I’ll tell you everything you need to hear.”
She closed her eyes, and a tear escaped. At least it was a happy one this time. “Where are you right now?”
“Driving up and down your street like a crazy person.”
Her heart leaped. She went to the window. “How long have you been down there? I just got home.”
“I dropped off the box, left the car running, and I’ve been circling the neighborhood for half an hour trying to find a place to park. I was going to wait here all night until I heard from you.”
She laughed softly. “What if I didn’t ever call?”
“I was going to beg next. Then I thought I’d seduce you. Make love to you. Show you how I feel. I still want to do all of those things.”
Gazing out the window, she smiled. “Come to me.”
“As soon as I can. If only I could park the car on the roof.”
She laughed and hung up. When she heard the knock on the door, her heart was pounding so hard she thought she’d never catch her breath. And still couldn’t when he stood there in front of her, handsome, with hunger in his eyes.
She sighed. “That took way too long.”
He swung an arm around her back and kissed her, and she slammed the door behind him. His kiss was so insistent, so intense, she had to hold on to him as he turned her once, twice, in her living room.
***
Her cheeks were cold, but her lips were warm, supple, and salvation. Her whimper urged Logan to deepen the kiss, outrun his hunger. She tasted like heaven, like home. A place he never wanted to run from again. God, did he love her. So much so, it stunned him. But not with panic this time, with hope. The hope his future wouldn’t be so bleak, so predictable, so lonely, as long as he kept loving Jordana. He drew back and gazed into her hazel eyes. This was his chance to make it right. Make her his.
“I want you to know—”
“Me first. Please, me first,” she interrupted, voice shaken. “I was wrong. I was pushing for more when I had no right. I’m sorry, Logan.”
He shook his head in disbelief. She was going to let him off the hook, but she shouldn’t. Not when she deserved a man who would love her thoroughly, daily, and without hesitation. A man who would say it out loud. “You pushed for more than I what was giving, and I needed you to, because it was the only thing you ever asked of me. You were right. All I was giving you were superficial things. The one time you finally asked me for something real, and there I was, refusing to give in. It’s all I know how to be. To hold back, to have the upper hand. That’s what I know about relationships.” He sighed, gripping her upper arms. “Which amounts to zero. It’s not a good excuse, but it’s true, and I’m sorry.”
She cupped the side of his face. “We’re both learning. It’s a process, but something we should go through together.”
His throat closed up. She was everything to him, and he’d almost lost her. It was hard to imagine why it was so difficult to tell her how he felt before, as the words begged to be spoken now. “I love you, Jordana,” he told her, voice raspy with emotion. Her little gasp proved she wasn’t expecting him to say the words, even though she must’ve known—surely, she must’ve known—he would say them now. “I’ve been wasting time not telling you, and I’ve known for a while. I fought against these feelings like nothing I’ve ever fought before. Sounds stupid, but a little part of me loved you from the very first night we met. Something inside me knew I needed you in my life, and like the greatest fool alive, I tried to control it. And when I saw that picture tonight, it hit me. I loved you before I even made love to you. It’s written all over my face.”
***
As he gazed down at her, his blue eyes tender and sincere, she knew he wasn’t saying those three words simply for her benefit. He meant them.
Jordana’s eyes welled up with tears as she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. He wound his strength around her body, and love wrapped around her heart. “I love you, too,” she whispered.
“Thank God for that.”
What a joy to hear it and to say it. “I’m sorry I got so upset about Triton. I wanted to earn a contract and I did. All you did was give it a little luck, which doesn’t happen to authors every day. Please don’t think I’m not a thousand percent thankful for what you did. It’s just…” She shrugged and pulled back, chin beginning to quiver. “I’m not used to dreams coming true.”
“Well, guess what? I’m only getting started.” He kissed her quickly, and her emotions calmed, replaced with warm desire. “I want to become an expert in making you happy. I could become damn good at it.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You’ve already outdone yourself.”
“Not even close. One thing you should know about me is that I’m never satisfied.”
“Oh?” Snaking her palms inside his coat, she started to move it off his shoulders. “Never?”
As he trailed his lips up across her jaw to her chin, his arms tightening, she inhaled sharply. With their noses touching, he replied, “Never. I’ll always want more of you.”
He finished shedding his coat, and she went to work on his shirt buttons. Already she was aching for his body, his lovemaking, imagining how much more amazing it would be now with nothing holding either of them back. “Then I guess all I can do is try.” She smiled.
His skin was fiery hot under his shirt, and as she smoothed her hands down his chest and abdomen, his breathing hitched. She gently pushed him down on the sofa, and the feral heat in his eyes ignited her lust. She took off her sweater and climbed in his lap, raking her hands through his hair, gazing into those bright blue eyes. She kissed his brow, the top of his cheek, his nose, as he whispered her name.
While his palms slid up her back, she moved her hips. She could feel his erection, and her need for him dampened her panties. His grip tightened and he thrust up with a moan, pressing his cock harder at her sex. He shook, digging his fingers into her back. Brushing her lips on his, she teased him, even though she knew he was on the brink.
His fingers started at the hook of her bra and she pulled back. “Wait.”
“Wait?” His voice was rough. “Baby, why?”
“There’s one more thing.” She set her palms on his shoulders. “I love you. And I know you were only being practical and thoughtful offering to find me a new apartment and offset the cost so I could move closer to you, but I’ll never be okay with that. You paying my bills, even in the smallest amount. Okay?”
“Woman, you drive me wild.” He locked her in his arms and pushed off the sofa. She gave a yelp at the sudden move, and he tapped her butt as she wrapped her legs around him. “We’ll talk about that later,” he asserted, marching to the bedroom.
He shifted her higher with her face hovering above his. Nose-to-nose with him, she asked, “What do you mean we’ll talk about it later? There’s nothing to discuss.”
“Have you signed a lease yet?”
“No.”
He grinned up at her. “Then the conversation is not over. As I said, later, but you might as well know now, you’re moving in with me.”
Did she hear him right? “What! Logan, I can’t.”
“Why not? I want you near me every night, and I want to start that as soon as possible. I love you, Jordana, and you love me. The timing is perfect. You need a new place and I have rooms gal
ore. The more I think about it…” He stopped at the edge of her bed and gently laid her down, “The more I don’t see any other way. Move in with me. Or I’ll move in with you. Except, I have no idea where we’re going to put my piano.”
“I…”
He kissed her neck, held her down, and mimicked rocking inside her. “Move in with me.”
She briefly closed her eyes, unable to think or make any decisions, let alone a major one like that. “I’ll…oh, God,” she breathed as he cupped her breast. “I’ll th-think about it.”
“No,” he stated, voice thick and raspy with lust, “tell me now.”
“Logan.” It came out as half plea, half surrender. “This isn’t fair. You can’t expect me to make a decision like this without, oh…” she groaned as he slid a hand under her leggings and inside her panties. “Without thinking it th-through.” She groped for his pants, beginning to unfasten them. Once he was inside her, he’d drop the subject.
Suddenly, he pulled out of her arms and stood. “I won’t touch you until you agree to it.” There was a mischievous glint in his eye.
She sat up on her elbows. “Why, you…that’s blackmail!”
“Actually more like extortion. Blackmail is when one person threatens to reveal information about another that is socially damaging or embarrassing, but extortion is a form of theft, when one obtains something through coercion.”
How did they go from getting hot and heavy to defining legal jargon? She kicked at him playfully. “Either way, moving in together is a big deal. I don’t think you’ve really considered what it means, Logan.”
“I know what it means.” He crossed his arms, and she tried to hide her smile. “I know what I want. And when I want something, I don’t see the point in wasting time. Life is short, and it took me way too long to find you.” He shrugged. “I told you I was relentless. Or was it ruthless?”
A bubble of laughter escaped. “You’re a bit of both.” There was a worry in his eyes, worry she’d say no. She reached for his hands and held them, swallowing at the small lump in her throat. Once again, she had to make a choice. She should’ve known he would want everything once he gave her his heart. His gaze softened as he looked at her, showing a tinge of fear and vulnerability and a clear expression of how much he loved her. “Okay,” she spoke so quietly, she wasn’t sure he heard it. “I’ll move in with you.”