Instantly he was engrossed in the college game, reaching blindly for a plate of food and a fork.
Rachel settled into the seat across from him, watching him. She knew she was staring, but she couldn’t help it. And, with Logan occupied by the game, he was totally unaware.
He was a puzzle to her. He was beautiful, both inside and out, she was learning. The outside she’d seen for a long time. But, inside, with his dedication to his players, his program, the town . . . And, he could have any woman he wanted. She thought of Kelly. He’d said that was long over. But, still. Kelly was beautiful. And yet here he was. In her hotel room. Oh no, she wasn’t deluding herself that this BBQ offering was anything more than another attempt to get into her pants. But, what if it wasn’t? He wasn’t trying that now. He was mindlessly chewing and deeply engrossed in the college game. Maybe he just came to hang out?
“You going to watch the game?”
She roused herself out of her thoughts and found Logan looking at her. She nodded.
They dug into the leftovers, each taking several bites, then trading off. He blindly relinquished his plate when she reached for it and accepted the one she offered without breaking eye contact with the screen. He sat forward in the chair, his elbows propped on his knees, a plate of corn on the cob, potato salad and beef brisket covered in sauce in one hand, a fork in the other. His thighs were wide and his feet sat flat on the carpet in front of him. They weren’t touching, but she could feel him. His whole body radiated heat like a furnace. The air conditioning was running in the room but not at a rate that would ever keep up with the heat the man next to her produced.
The LSU quarterback threw an interception and Logan shouted something about the receiver missing the play call.
Rachel glanced briefly at the TV screen but couldn’t quite focus on what was happening. She found her gaze drifting back to the man sitting next to her. She studied his profile. Sun-kissed skin, his chin and neck showing the beginnings of a beard. She watched his jaw and throat work as he chewed and swallowed his food. His nose and high cheekbones pointed to his strong ancestry. Her fingers convulsed on the fork she held. How she itched to run her fingertips over those whiskers. Would they be rough and prickly? What would it feel like if he kissed her, moved his lips over hers, rubbed his cheek against her face, or breasts, the inside of her thighs.
Logan shouted and pumped his fist.
Rachel inhaled deeply, drawing some much needed oxygen into her sex-starved brain.
He turned to her and said, “Did you see—?” He broke off and stared at her, his gaze moving from her lips to her eyes and then settling on her lips.
She watched his nostrils flare as he inhaled. She caught the rise of his chest and then she looked into his gaze. The blue irises burning to a hot, intense stare. She couldn’t turn away. If her life depended on it, she would have succumbed because she couldn’t draw her attention from the heat she saw there.
He blindly sat his plate on the coffee table then did the same with hers. He leaned forward and clasped the back of her neck, his hand moving through her hair. He drew her toward him. He leaned forward until he was less than an inch from her face, his hot warm breath fanning over her nose, her lips. She smelled butter from the corn, sweet and tangy sauce, and pure Logan.
Her lips parted and he captured her mouth with his. She felt her eyelids drift shut, her body lean into his and a sigh escape her parted lips. The texture of his beard-roughened jaw scratched her lips and the sensation was better than she’d imagined. She felt her body melt against him and desire pool low in her abdomen.
He moved out of his chair and kneeled before her. He applied pressure to her nape drawing her closer until his chest was pressed against hers. Hard muscle and searing heat burned against her skin. Her nipples were firm points against her bra, straining toward the man who held her with only a hand cupping her neck and his lips imprisoning her own. His hand on her neck gently massaged, his fingers alternately moving in tight circles against her skin and in her hair.
Logan shifted slightly, forcing her lips to part further, sucking softly at her upper lip and then moving to her lower one. She reached a tentative hand up, wanting to touch him, needing to touch him. She brought her finger tips to his jaw, letting them journey from his jaw bone to just below his ear and then to where their lips were now feasting. As if blind, she allowed her fingertips to learn the feel of his beard, just as she’d dreamt of doing moments before.
His tongue pushed into her mouth and she moaned, leaning more fully into him, sagging against him, her bones limp with wanting. His hand on her nape tightened slightly, effectively holding her firm against his mouth while he continued the assault on her lips, her senses, her mind. She was falling, falling against him, into to him. And she couldn’t let that happen.
She brought her hands up against his strong chest. She was going to regret this, she knew she was. Somehow she found a working, thinking part of her brain. It gave her the power to stop what would ultimately not be a good idea. With her hands on that oh-so-hard, oh-so-hot chest, she gave a slight push.
Logan straightened, lifting his mouth from hers a fraction. His eyes boring into hers, searching, questioning.
“Okay?”
She felt heat suffuse her entire body. Maybe this was a bad idea. She should definitely listen to reason. But, right then, she decided to turn a deaf ear to reason. She wanted Logan. Now.
She nodded shakily then leaned forward and kissed him.
Rachel couldn’t think, she couldn’t speak, she couldn’t breathe. All she could do was feel as Logan molded his mouth to hers feasting, imploring her lips to let him in. That decision took all of one second now that she’d made up her mind. Her mouth operated on pure need, pure instinct. She wanted him.
She opened up to him and his tongue found its way in to play with hers. His hand at the back of her neck was doing that same thing it had done before—holding her in place and wreaking havoc on her senses, sending shock waves of heat up and down her spine. He brought his other hand to rest on her hip, his big long fingers dipping low on her backside. Then he palmed her hip and hauled her closer to him. Heat pooled low in her abdomen, lower, and she reached her hands up to loop around his neck. Her fingertips brushed against the hair that curled onto his collar.
He moved away and she blinked at him. Lost without his mouth and heat, she stared.
He smiled and stood. Then he looped his fingers through hers and pulled her to stand. Thankfully he held on tight because her legs were not in the least bit interested in holding her up.
Standing wasn’t in his plans anyways. He pushed her against the bed, his long legs walking her limp form backward, until she felt the bed against her legs. His strong arms held her, kept her from falling to the bed, but they did nothing to keep her from the free fall her mind and senses were taking. She wasn’t thinking, wasn’t registering rational thoughts. Only Logan and hot, wet kisses. And, the wonderful pressure of his hands, one on her neck and on her hip. She didn’t want him to stop. She needed to take a breath, needed air to formulate a thought, to process the sensations of what was happening, but his mouth wasn’t letting up, and, Lord, she didn’t want him to. If he kept kissing her like this, she’d be a very happy woman.
“Rachel?” Logan asked, his voice low and rough.
He’d only drawn his lips away enough to form that one word, but she felt them move against her own mouth, felt the air from his mouth whisper against hers. She swallowed convulsively. She met his gaze and saw brazen desire, pure and primal. Need equal to her own.
Since forming a simple “yes” required more brain power than she could muster just then, she nodded.
He sealed his lips to hers and bent scooping her under the knees. Her eyes flew open. She’d known Logan was strong, but he’d picked her up as if she weighed nothing, light as air, a bag of cotton, a bundle of feathers! He held her high in the air, nestling her against his chest. Rachel felt a moment of anxiety that was quickly smo
thered by his lips and body against hers.
With a strength she didn’t know she had, she moved her lips away from his. She needed a minute. Just one, to get a modicum of control, no matter how small. She was about to have sex with Logan Hastings and exactly how did she feel about that? That thought got all of about one second of brain time before she decided she didn’t want to think about how she felt about that. What she felt were strong arms holding her as if she weighed nothing, a warm, tender mouth kissing her as if he couldn’t get enough and neither showing signs of ending anytime soon.
Slowly she opened her eyes, her gaze settling on the rapid and uneven rise of his chest. She slid her gaze to his richly tanned neck and noticed his pulse leaping at the base of his throat, then higher until she was staring into his eyes.
Logan’s brows were drawn together forming a crease in the center.
She nodded.
He bent, then, gently laying her on the bed, his mouth never more than a breath from hers. He tasted better than she remembered. Desire flooded through her. She couldn’t get enough. He settled along her side, the length of him searing her through her pants and tee shirt and she wanted both off. Now. Having made her decision, she wanted to feel his bare skin against hers.
He moved his palm from her neck to her shoulder, down the length of her arm, and back to her elbow. She reached her own hands up to hold his mouth in place. The need to taste him so great, she wasn’t going to let him move away from her.
The hand at her elbow moved to her breast and Rachel knew she needed her shirt off. The heat from his large palm over her entire breast was tearing her apart. She needed more of him. She lifted up, pushing into his hand, her hips pushing into his. She could feel his erection and knew he needed to be naked, too.
She drew away long enough to gasp for air, sucking large gulps into her lungs. He moved his mouth to her neck and, oh man, Rachel thought his hand on her neck had been too much? She was about to fall off the cliff from a lot of kissing and heavy petting and they both still had on all of their clothes.
He walked his hand down the length of her shirt and teased at the hem. She knew he was going to dance his fingers underneath the shirt. She held her breath in anticipation, in need. But, instead, he bunched the material up into his hand, fisting the material along his path to her breasts, until the shirt was up over her bra-covered breasts. He wasn’t deterred, shoving the material up over her breasts and baring her to his gaze. The cool air teased her already tight nipples. Logan lifted up on his elbow. She knew he was staring at her and she felt a moment’s relief that the light was off. Her breasts were . . . fine, but since she hadn’t gotten around to her no-chocolate program, or low-carb, no-fat, vegan-only program and only just started thinking about a running program, she was grateful for the lack of light.
Logan shifted away from her on the bed and reached over, turning on the bedside lamp.
Rachel squeezed her eyes shut tight. She felt a blush like she’d never had in her life color her bare chest, mottling her neck and leaving blotchy patches on her face. She was pretty sure at any moment Logan was going to roll off the bed and out of the room. She was certain in his time in the NFL he’d been with some super-star hotties. None of which were her, not in any way shape or form.
With her eyes tightly closed, Rachel waited for the mattress next to her to dip and bounce signaling Logan’s departure. She waited. Held her breath. And waited.
Nothing happened.
She opened one eye, keeping the other closed tight.
She rolled her eye up to Logan’s face, not at all eager to see the expression there. She wasn’t the same girl she’d been. She was filled out, she was a woman. And, she liked chocolate.
The look she saw was not what she expected. He wasn’t disgusted. He wasn’t straining to leap off the bed.
“God you’re magnificent.” His gaze was trained on her chest.
Her other eye popped open and she knew she was scowling, but he wasn’t kidding. He was staring at her, and not in a bad way. He worked his free hand under her back and unfastened her bra, then slid it off, dropping it to the floor. Then he brought his index finger to his mouth, running the tip over his tongue until it was wet and glistening. Then he touched her nipple.
“You’re beautiful.” He stroked his saliva-coated finger around her distended nipple. Around and around.
Rachel inhaled sharply as a line of need raced down her midsection. Then he cupped his hand under her breast. She shot her gaze to his and saw only raw desire.
Logan bent his head and used his mouth to exhale moist heat over the breast he held, pressing his lips to the underside of her exposed skin. Rachel couldn’t help it. She moaned.
She fisted her hands in the sheets next to her hips and couldn’t keep her body still. Her mind was filled with the sensations his soft lips were evoking and at last, God yes, at last he settled his lips over her nipple and she nearly cried out. He moved his other hand to cup and pinch and tease her other breast and she thought for sure she was going to come.
Suddenly it didn’t matter that the lights were on and her woman’s body was bared to him. All she could concentrate on was keeping herself from bursting into flames. Thank goodness breathing was automatic, because if she’d needed to remind her body to inhale, she’d be in big trouble.
Logan moved his attentions from her breast, his lips traveling down her abdomen, caressing her pale skin, cast in a gentle, and somewhat forgivable, glow by the bedside light. His long fingers came to the waistband of her yoga pant and she knew her core was about to be displayed to him. If he followed suit as he had with her shirt, the pants were coming off in one motion. She opened her eyes and found him watching her. Waiting. Expectant, but waiting for her go ahead.
She couldn’t speak and offered him a shaky, sex-addled nod.
He had the rest of her clothes off in the space of a second and was again kissing her senseless. She vaguely registered that he was fully dressed next to her. But, since forming words was completely beyond her at that moment, she went with it.
He molded his mouth to hers, while his fingers moved over her breasts, touching and squeezing, palming and loving. Her legs moved restlessly on the bed, her core blazing and begging.
His mouth moved from her lips, licking over her chin and neck, and settling on a distended nipple. She cried out. Sex had never been like this. Had to be the magazine.
And Logan.
His mouth made magic against her breast while his fingers made their way lower and lower, until she was crying out. He was touching her, opening her, his long fingers moving in her curls and parting her thick folds. Oh God!
Then his mouth was moving down, following the same path as his fingers and she was lost. She closed her eyes and raised her hips to meet his mouth. No way could she have done anything else.
Hot, wet, him and her. There was no beginning and no end. Only sensation. Pure, blissful desire.
Her head rolled on the bed and she moved her hands restlessly over her breasts, through his hair. She’d never felt anything like this before. She was going to split apart. Logan was between her legs, feasting, his greedy tongue tasting her, not letting her catch her breath. His broad shoulders kept her legs from closing, keeping her open for him.
She was going to die from this. Split apart in a million glorious pieces. She was so close. His lips teased her, nibbled and sucked, licked and fit to her. Then, with his mouth still on her, he entered her with his finger, first one, then two. He moved his expert fingers, applying just the right pressure . . .
And, she came. Flying into a million little pieces of bright light and bliss. And, oh God. She would gladly die like this.
But he wasn’t finished. He kissed the inside of her thigh, rubbing his wet mouth against her, then he made his way back up to her. And, settled his mouth over hers. She almost came again. The taste, the slick wet taste and the intimacy of it had her floating and falling.
Then he was pulling away and she was rea
ching for him.
He reached down, next to the bed and was back with a silver foil pack in his hand. Thank goodness his mind was working, because hers was in an orgasm-induced coma.
He moved over her. The weight and heat of his hard, muscular body so welcome she moaned and squeezed her eyes shut. No way did she want this to end, and what did that say about her?
“Rachel,” Logan whispered, snaking kisses across her closed eyelids, her brows, the bridge of her nose. “Open your eyes, baby.”
She might not be able to have a coherent thought, but she could follow basic commands, especially when they came from this beautiful man.
“I want to see your eyes when I enter you. I’m going to make you come again.”
Oh God, yes. Please.
Her eyes held his because she couldn’t, if her life depended on it, focus anywhere else. She felt the thickness of him pushing between her folds, past them to her inner core, all slick and wet and ready for him.
She lifted her hips.
He entered her. One stroke, then another. One more and she was cresting, her hips moving in time with his. He brought his mouth down to hers and began a slow assault that had her mind filling with only Logan, his touch, his hard length moving inside of her, his tongue dancing with hers.
Rachel couldn’t help it, she was riding a wave of sensations that were threatening to pull her apart and she was powerless to do anything but roll with it. Any other option was unacceptable. She turned her head away, his mouth on hers too much. Her head rolled on the pillow, she was so close.
Logan must have sensed her need and moved one hand between them, touching her where their bodies met, stroking, applying just the right amount of pressure. Then he squeezed her there, just a little, between his fingers. “Come on, Rach, come for me.”
And she did, a rocking wave and blissful heat and energy and, oh Lord, she was ruined for any other man. Only a few more strokes from Logan and he was coming, too, a harsh breath stirring the hair by her ears and then he collapsed onto her, his breathing as ragged as hers.
Rachel's Redemption Page 11