Magic Kiss (Hope Falls Book 11)

by Melanie Shawn

  What am I doing?

  A sudden realization hit Emma like a slap in the face. This wasn’t a date, and there was the definite possibility that Logan may have changed his mind. It wasn’t like he’d seemed overeager to agree to this plan in the first place. What if he didn’t want to go through with this and she was all dressed up with no one to do?

  That would be awkward, and the one thing this scenario didn’t need was more awkwardness.

  Change of plans. Instead of waiting there like Logan was her prom date, she would go to her room, throw her sweats on, and pull her hair up, and if he came home and sought her out, then she would know that it was on like Donkey Kong. If he didn’t, then he could back out of their arrangement without them having to have the “it’s not you, it’s me” talk.

  Emma opened the slider door. She’d made it halfway across the living room when the front door opened. Then she froze mid-stride and stared at Logan who was playing the role of headlights opposite her portrayal of a deer in this production of An Awkward Midsummer Night’s Dream.

  “Going somewhere?” Logan’s baritone voice filled the silence as he stepped inside and lifted his aviator sunglasses off his head.

  She couldn’t help but notice the round bulge of his bicep on his sculpted upper arm.

  Why did this man have to be the epitome of sexy?

  Why did everything he say sound so sensual?

  Why did his lips taste so good?

  Why did the feeling of being in his arms have the effect of feeling safe and dangerous at the same time?

  It really wasn’t fair. In the last six years of being single, Emma had scoped out the playing field. She hadn’t exactly gotten into a game, but she knew the players and their stats. Men like Logan just didn’t exist. Even in her books.

  “Emma?” He took a step closer, his brows knitting as his eyes narrowed on her with the laser focus that made her feel like he could see her soul. “Are you leaving?”

  “Oh…I was just…” Clearing her throat, Emma moved her feet together so that she didn’t look like she was participating in a game of freeze tag. “I was going to go change.”

  “Change?”

  “Yeah. I was going to put sweats on.”

  Start walking! her inner voice screamed. But she was trapped. Trapped in the milk-chocolate gaze that held her in place like a beam of light from a ray gun in a science fiction movie.

  At a knock on the door, he turned his head. She would’ve stayed there, frozen in time, the entire night if Logan hadn’t looked away. The second his stare was no longer directed at her, her feet heeded her earlier command. Putting one in front of the other, she made it to her room even though her legs were as wobbly as wooden pieces at the end of a Jenga game.

  She could hear Logan’s voice as she closed her door. She had no idea who was at the door, but the high-pitched voice told her that it was a female. His string of admirers had slowed somewhat since she’d shown up, but they still trickled in. Honestly, it didn’t matter who it was. All that mattered was that they’d given her the opportunity to execute her Plan B. Hide in room. In sweats.

  If Logan showed up at her bedroom door, great. If not, fine. They could both forget this whole thing. It would be business as usual. No harm, no foul.

  Her internal pep talk was working as she reached behind her back and tried to grasp the zipper. She couldn’t get it from that angle, so she tried over the shoulder. No go. How she’d been able to zip it up in the first place was a mystery, since she couldn’t seem to reach it to do the opposite.

  “I’m so stupid,” she mumbled to herself, growing more and more agitated. “Why did I think I could do this? Like I can pull this off. Yeah, real sexy.”

  “Need some help?”

  Spinning around, she saw Logan casually leaning against the doorframe. His athletic body filled the space and sent shocks of tingles exploding in her like popcorn in the microwave.

  “Who was at the door?” she asked, trying to ignore her internal pop, pop, popping.

  Shrugging one shoulder, he said, “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I didn’t ask their names.” He pushed off the door and walked towards her, his long legs carrying him across the room in two powerful strides.

  A breath away, he was so close that a feather wouldn’t fit between their bodies. With bare feet, Emma was at least a foot shorter than Logan, and even in four-inch wedges, she had to tilt her chin up and let her head fall back to make eye contact.

  Her heart pounded rapidly as she slowly moved her stare up over his muscular chest, past his strong neck, over the panty-melting five-o’clock shadow that covered his jaw. She paused only for a moment on his full and luscious lips before finally reaching his coffee-colored gaze.

  Every single nerve in her body felt like it was raw and exposed. She was shaking with awareness as the air between them crackled with electricity.

  She had no idea what was going to happen, but her body was certainly enjoying the anticipation.

  Chapter 17

  ‡

  “Turn around,” Logan commanded roughly.

  A shiver of lust ran through her, flooding her with desire. Without hesitation, Emma pivoted on her heels, her shoulder brushing his hard chest.

  For a moment, he didn’t move. But she could feel his heavy breath on her shoulder, the heat radiating off his body. There was a buzzing in her head that was accompanied by the audible thumping of her heart. Inhaling to steady herself, she only spiked her arousal further when the woodsy, clean scent that was uniquely Logan’s filled her senses, making her want to bury her nose in his throat just like she had all of those years ago in her kitchen in Seattle.

  When the brush of work-roughened fingertips swiped across the back of her neck as her hair was moved to one side, she sucked in an audible breath. From just one featherlight touch, her core contracted and her body shook with need. She had to lock her knees so they didn’t buckle under the weight of her arousal.

  The reverberation of her zipper being pulled down like an erotic soundtrack was the next thing that registered in her lust-addled brain. Then the crisp evening air drifting into the room through the open window spread on her now bare back.

  Her mind was racing. Were they really going to do this? Was this really going to happen? Were they really about to have sex?

  As she waited for the answers to materialize, she noticed that her chest was rising and falling in heavy pants. Maybe she should’ve been embarrassed that she was this affected and all Logan had done was unzip her dress, but since she needed to commit every second of this encounter to memory—for research, of course—there was no room in her brain to process humiliation. She could be shy and awkward tomorrow. Tonight, she wanted to fully immerse herself in the situation.

  Instead of thinking, she focused fully on feeling. She let go and stopped trying to analyze what was about to happen. In a move that was very unlike her, she consciously gave complete control to the man standing behind her.

  For so many years, she’d had to be the one making every decision, driving every action, responsible for every outcome. She’d not only been the captain of the ship, she’d been the crew as well. Tonight, she was handing the wheel over and allowing Logan to steer her wherever he wanted to go.

  His finger trailed from the base of her neck, down her spine, to her lower back in an unhurried pace. Then, with just as much leisure, it moved back up again. Before she’d caught her breath from the rush of wild need that had assaulted her senses from his exploratory touch, his hands trailed across and over her shoulders, taking the straps of her dress with them. The soft fabric slipped down her body with ease and fell to the floor.

  She stood perfectly still—other than the rise and fall of her breasts heaving. Her legs, which had been wobbly before, now felt like she was attempting to stand on noodles, and she was afraid they wouldn’t hold her for much longer. All of her strength was absorbed by heightened stimulation.

 
; “God, you’re beautiful,” Logan whispered reverently against her ear before pressing his lips on the sensitive skin below her lobe.

  At the crash of passion his kiss had ignited, her fear was realized and her legs crumbled beneath her. Before she fell even an inch, Logan’s arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him. His hold pinned her body against his, supporting her while his mouth worked magic, peppering openmouthed kisses up and down her neck.

  She closed her eyes as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her, luxuriating in the sensations cresting through her body. His large hands spread across the bare skin of her stomach, tugging her even closer to him, and his jean-covered, rock-hard erection pressed firmly against her backside. Tilting her hips, she rolled her body against his thick, steel member as her hands reached up and gripped his biceps, her fingers digging into the muscles she’d been drooling over since she’d arrived.

  When one of his hands moved past her hip, she opened her eyes to watch its progress. The stark contrast between his tan skin and the fair skin of her lower belly, was truly an erotic picture. But what was even more erotic was seeing and feeling his fingers slip beneath the waistline of her silk panties.

  “Open your legs,” he rasped.

  With her left leg, she stepped as far as she could, but her progress was stopped by the dress that was pooled at her feet. Just as she was about to lift her foot and rid herself of the constraint, Logan’s fingers dipped down between her legs, brushing over her distended nub, and she cried out as pleasure radiated from his touch.

  “Mmmm, so wet,” he murmured huskily as he slid his fingers easily along the seam of her opening, touching her with gentle authority.

  Her body contracted against his touch as a pleasure built in her belly.

  “That feels so good. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” she pleaded as his fingers continued to intimately stroke her.

  Every cell in her body felt alive with roaring urgency. Just because she hadn’t been with anyone in six years didn’t mean she didn’t know her body. She did. And her pleasure train was definitely on the track for a head-on collision at Orgasm Junction.

  A sting of disappointment twisted in her heart at that realization. His masterful touch felt so good that it was almost too good. She didn’t want this feeling to be over, and although she’d written plenty of heroines who’d been able to achieve multiple orgasms, she’d never been able to make it into that particular club.

  Closing her eyes, she hoped that if she didn’t have any visual stimulation, it would slow down the process—but that backfired big time. The second her lids shut, her other senses became more acute. The pressure and friction of his fingers stroking her became even more intense. The sensation of his rock-hard length rubbing against her in a sensual rhythm, sent a shock of bliss radiating from her core.

  “I don’t… I want… I can’t…” Her nails dug into Logan’s muscled arms as she tried to articulate her desire to draw this out as long as possible.

  Evidently, she didn’t communicate what she was feeling, because instead of pumping the breaks, Logan floored the gas pedal and slid one of his thick fingers inside her while his thumb simultaneously rubbed her swollen nub.

  That was it. The release she’d been desperately trying to keep at bay flooded through her.

  Logan’s finger worked in and out of her in smooth, measured strokes as he hissed, “Damn, you’re so tight. So fucking tight.”

  The heat of breath on her neck and the boldness of his words catapulted her up and over her peak.

  “Oh God… Oh, oh…oh, yes!” she cried out as she was seized with a rush of sensation so intense that her body shuddered uncontrollably.

  She leaned her head against Logan’s solid shoulder as she rode out the wild waves of ecstasy cresting through her. Every time she thought her release was drawing to a close, his finger would thrust deeper or his thumb would graze with just the right amount of pressure over her clit and the strong, powerful tidal wave of bliss would claim her again.

  Through the entire glorious experience, Logan was whispering sensual words of encouragement in her ear. He told her how sexy she was. How badly he wanted her. How good he was going to make her feel. How wet she felt. How turned on she made him.

  Every word he spoke served to push all of her erotically charged buttons and send her soaring to heights she’d never been to before. With each touch, each whisper, each stroke, she trembled on the edge of infinity.

  After the last spasm rocked her senses, her body went limp, drained of every drop of energy. When Logan scooped her up into his strong embrace, she let herself luxuriate in his potent strength. Resting her head on his chest, her eyes still shut, she was overwhelmed with the sense of safety and security emanating from his cradling hold. She’d had to stand on her own two feet for so long, it was amazing how good it felt to let someone else carry her. Literally.

  As he lowered her, her eyes opened and she had to push down a tiny bud of disappointment that the short distance across the room to her bed had not been just a little longer. The bed dipped beneath her as Logan gently laid her on the soft, cool comforter. After kissing her lightly on her lips, he pulled his arms from beneath her and stood. The second his body was no longer in contact with hers, she missed the connection and her heart sank.

  That feeling of loss was short-lived though. Logan lifted his shirt up and over his head as he stared down at her with a heat that could’ve set a whole forest on fire. Her eyes roamed over his broad shoulders, which were rounded with muscle, across the smooth, solid wall of muscle that was his chest, and down the steely contours of his rippling abs.

  His body was the epitome of male perfection.

  Emma’s mouth went dry as he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. Her heart was beating a mile a minute as she anxiously waited for the great unveiling. She’d felt his arousal pressed against her for the first time five years ago in her kitchen and hadn’t been able to get the image the sensation had inspired out of her head. Since she’d been in Hope Falls, she’d been lucky enough to have felt it again, but it had always been trapped in the confines of clothing. For a split second, she feared she’d built his manhood up into something of mythical proportions. There was no way reality could live up to the fantasies that she played in her head over and over again.

  A tingling thrill spread through her as Logan hooked his thumbs in the waistline of his boxer briefs and pants. Then he pushed them down, freeing his straining erection. Her fears were put to rest when he stood up. What he was working with was somehow more magnificent, more spectacular, more impressive, than anything her imagination had envisioned.

  “Wow,” she whispered with a twinge of disbelief.

  A small grin pulled at Logan’s mouth before he slowly tugged her panties down and off her legs. Then he unhooked her bra, and slid the straps down her arms.

  His eyes hungrily roamed over Emma’s body. The room was lit with an orange haze from the evening sky, illuminating the entire space. The only sound was their combined pants of labored breathing.

  Emma had never been particularly shy about her body, but before this moment, she would’ve believed that a situation like this would’ve made her feel vulnerable. Insecure. But somehow, lying totally bare beneath Logan’s stare was having the exact opposite effect on her. She felt emboldened, confident, and sexier than she’d ever dreamed she could feel.

  When he joined her on the bed, her legs automatically opened in invitation. He climbed over her, his erection nestling against her center. As he hovered above her, her hands ran up and down his back. The weight of his large body above her unearthed and opened a box of feelings she’d buried long ago. This was what she missed the most. A tear pricked at her eye, so she shut them, hoping that he wouldn’t see.

  His body stilled, growing tense—her emotion hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  “What’s wrong?” The genuine concern in his voice caused her eyes to fill with moisture.

  Logan started to move off her, b
ut she gripped his back, holding him in place.

  Opening her eyes, she took a deep breath. Her voice was shaky as she assured him, “I’m fine. It’s just… This feels so good.”

  His entire body relaxed against her, and a sigh of arousal escaped her mouth.

  “We’re just getting started.” An enticing smile pulled at his lips before he lowered his head and kissed her neck.

  She closed her eyes, giving herself completely over to this night. To this passion. To Logan.

  *

  “Hmmm.” Emma’s soft moan vibrated against Logan’s lips as he suckled the base of her neck.

  Her body writhed beneath him, and with every slight movement, the primal ache of restrained need throbbed heavier through him. His dick pulsed painfully as it slid up and down the wet folds of her center. Her juices coated his steel-hard shaft with every pass.

  As his mouth moved over her collarbone, her breathing grew shallower. Her pebbled nipples rubbed against his chest, his mouth watered and his erection swelled with the knowledge that he would have them in his mouth.

  Normally, taking his time with women wasn’t a difficult thing for Logan. Foreplay had always been something he’d excelled at. No matter how turned on he was, how badly he wanted to get to the big show, he’d always been able to settle in for the long game. That wasn’t the case with Emma. With her, every ounce of self-control he’d easily tap into during sex was slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. He was holding on to it, but just barely.

  Every cell in his being was screaming for him to drive into her wet heat. As much as he was trying to go slow, his body was rebelling against his attempts. Each rock of her eager hips brought his thin thread of control closer to snapping.

  Tonight, when he’d come home and seen Emma dressed up and looking like a scared, trapped animal, he’d decided that nothing was going to happen tonight. He’d made up his mind that anything physical between them could only come if and when they talked about things. About the past. About what that meant. About whether or not their being together was actually a good idea.