“Just be nice. Maybe wear some of the things I packed for you.” The lingerie Anthony tucked into the bag flashed before her mind. No way.
She cleared her throat. “Like what?”
“Something that makes you feel like a woman and not a drone.”
“I’m not a drone.”
Logan’s muffled laughter tickled her ears. Could Anthony hear that?
“Then when he flirts, flirt back. And don’t say if.”
“And then what?” She hugged her knees closer, looking about the room for the quickest exit. If she got out of the tub while he was behind the steamy shower door, she might be able to escape without revealing too much.
“You see if you like it. If you don’t, shrug him off. If you do, well then, you do.”
Her mouth opened and then slammed shut. Anthony had a point. It was her choice. She could be in control as easily as Logan could. What happened next could be entirely up to her.
“Think about it. And be nice.”
“Yes, dear. It’s late. I’m going to turn in.” She asked about her fish and made her goodbyes to Anthony, then switched off the phone, through with work for the night. She set it in the basket of scented bath gels Logan had set out and looked around again, hoping to find a towel she’d missed.
But her plan of a quick escape was foiled when Logan shut off the shower. The only towel in the room disappeared into the shower, being used by Logan to dry his hard body. He opened the door and the stretch of his taut, golden flesh over the powerful muscles mesmerized her. The desire to touch him, just to see how his smooth skin would feel beneath her hand, threatened to overwhelm her.
Instead, she closed her eyes and tried to hide the shaking of her body by clutching her knees, folding herself as tightly as possible into the center of the deep tub. Never before had she thought herself capable of such a frightening, intense need. This was for movie heroines and fairy tales. Not hardworking, well-educated, career-minded—
“Breeze, you’re shaking. Is the water that cold?” His hand skimmed the water. She felt each ripple as it caressed her body. She peeked open one eye for a split second to see him crouched next to the tub. What if she looked down?
“It’s just my nerves.” She quivered, her mind a whirl of erotic possibilities. She tried to will the shaking to stop. “I can’t get over that I’m naked and you’re naked, and you’re staring at me, and you must think I’m a different kind of person because I don’t know how to be casual about this and I—”
The fast pace of her anxious rambling came to a halt when she sensed the room go dark behind her closed eyelids. She’d noticed the slight flicker of candlelight before, but when she opened her eyes all was dark, except the thin sliver of light journeying through the bedroom from the living room.
“Better?” Logan whispered, touching her face. His thumb traced over her lips and she shuddered for a whole new reason.
She nodded into his hand, relieved by the darkness. Taking a deep breath, she remembered how a few moments before she had ached to see him as she watched him showering. She met his gaze, the side of his face outlined in the dim light.
So much of what she felt for him was hard to understand. But in this moment she knew with exacting certainty she would regret not making love with this man for the rest of her life.
Moving his hand to her bare shoulder, he inched his face closer to hers and whispered, “Let it be a fantasy. If there were no consequences, what would you do?”
She lifted her hands out of the water, wet palms gliding over his smooth cheeks. She softly brushed her lips across his, testing to make sure this was what he wanted. Gently, she pressed her lips fully against his mouth.
Terrified her desire for this man might consume her, she needed to go slow and keep the upper hand. She traced his features one by one, first with her fingers, then her mouth. She mapped his cheeks, nose, brow, eyelids, jawline, neck, so she would remember everything.
She ran her fingers through his still-damp hair and tasted his lips. She took his lower lip between hers, noticing the difference between the soft outside and smooth inside. She switched to his upper lip and he shifted next to her. His lips parted and she began to lose track of the what-ifs and maybes. All that mattered now was what she felt beneath her fingers. The smell of the soap on his skin, the taste of mint in his mouth.
He pulled away, and she whimpered at the loss of connection. Until he slid into the tub behind her, the warm, silky water all that separated them. And then he drew her back close to his chest and there was no separation at all.
She made a conscious decision to release her knees and melt back into him. To relish how sensitive her skin had become, how she felt his breath on her temple, his cheek at her ear. His arms enveloped hers and pulled her close.
She leaned her head back onto his shoulder, relaxing and allowing her hands to slip downwards and sink into the hard muscles of his thighs. His breath was hot on her neck as his hands traced down her arms and splayed his fingers between hers.
Beneath the water, his hands flowed back up her body, over her stomach to find her breasts. Cupping them, he traced round her nipples as they pearled and hardened beneath his fingers. She brought her arms out of the bath and overhead, weaving her fingers into his damp hair. She pulled his mouth down to meet hers, showing him her pleasure.
He slid his hands down her hips, stroking her belly, massaging her inner thighs. He parted her legs slightly, just enough for him to maneuver his hand between them. His fingers barely brushed the patch of curls there. His touch was light, growing more assured until his entire hand cupped her.
Slowly, he moved his hand up and down. The pressure increased and he moved his hand in circles. Three fingers traced her sex, one finger slipping inside. He spread her outer lips and traced her inner lips the same way. His fingers explored, teasing the space between her lips, her clitoris, circling but never entering her.
Her legs fell open farther as she relaxed. The rhythm concentrated, though he kept his touch light until she pressed into him, wanting more. Losing herself in the hazy sensations, her own hand found its way to his, encouraging him. He slipped a finger into her and she gasped at the new sensation.
She gripped the side of the tub, accepting the pleasure he offered. He moved his finger in and out, side to side, then circular. His thumb massaged the button where all her nerves joined. Deep moans escaped her as he found places within that brought a bliss she never knew existed. Her hips rocked and her breath caught in her throat. Tiny ripples of delight fluttered through her body, each pushing out a tiny pant.
Her movements slowed and his hands traveled up her hips, ribs, arms, to find her hands and bring them back under the water. He hugged her to him again, just as they had begun.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“What?” She turned to see him, trying to make out his expression in the darkness.
“For trusting me.” He kissed her eyelids, fluttering her eyes closed. “Let’s get you dried off before the water gets cold.” He stood behind her, the sound of water sluicing off his body heating her passion-drunk mind.
“We could stay here.” She didn’t want to move, to risk breaking the spell of the moment. He stepped out of the tub and then lifted her over the edge.
“Not for what I have in mind.”
Logan laid her back on the bed and kissed her, their lips engaged in a battle that couldn’t be won. He wanted to make love to her, to be inside her in the most primal way. After exploring her body in the tub, he doubted her first catastrophe of an experience had been more than a fumble.
Focusing on something other than the pounding ache in his groin, he found the need for release nearly impossible to ignore. She was soft and supple and willing beneath him, but he couldn’t take her, not yet. Breaking through her wall of resistance had been nearly impossible. If he caused too much pain, she’d never let him through again.
He slid his lips against her mouth, over her cheek, down her neck. He kissed away the citru
s of the bubble bath until he again learned the sweetness of her skin.
She pulled at his shoulders, parting her legs beneath him so his body felt her heat. His gut clenched as he fought the instinct to plunge into her. If he did, she’d never be with him again, might not ever risk making love again, period.
He trailed kisses down her collarbone. His hands enjoyed the plump flesh of her breasts, feeling every ripe nuance. She arched her back and he leaned to the side, propping himself on an elbow.
In the bath he’d tried to be so very gentle, unsure of what she’d allow. Now he could explore, learn, teach her what she liked. He lavished attention on the tops, cleavage, undersides, everywhere but at the tiny buds puckering for his touch.
“Is this about making me beg?”
“A little.” He flattened his tongue against her nipple but kept it perfectly still.
“Please,” she panted, pulling her hands through his hair and trying to force him to move. He stayed still. “Logan, please, it’s like every inch of my body is pulsing, aching for you. Please, take me.”
He threatened to explode with every word, so he moved up her body and silenced her mouth with his. Even her kisses promised sex now. Everything was barreling them down a road he knew they had to travel slowly.
“Breeze,” he whispered against her ear. “We have to go slow, okay?” Her hands brushed down his body, almost catching the part of him that told him going slow was unnecessary. Gripping both her wrists he pinned them over her head. “It’s going to hurt if you’re not ready.”
“I’m ready.”
“No, I mean, it’s going to hurt anyway, but it will hurt more if—”
“Why?”
He smiled down at her wide-eyed innocence. So worldly and intelligent in some ways, wholly innocent in others. “You’re really tight.”
“Are you sure you’re not just flattering yourself?”
He laughed at her bravado and released one of her hands so she could explore. He kissed her neck as her palm inched down his body. He let her fingers curl over him for as long as he could stand and then tugged them away as fear fluttered in her eyes.
“But bodies are designed for this, right?”
“Of course. But there’s no need to rush.” From one corner to the other, he explored her mouth until her attention was back in the now and not the later. Silencing all the questions she had that he didn’t know the answers for. He’d heard stories that sometimes it just didn’t work. Maybe that’s why her first try was such a bust.
Not this time. He even welcomed the challenge. Thinking of how to make things work logistically would keep him from embarrassing himself. And remind him to enjoy every minute, every inch of her.
The curve of her neck, the shell of her ear, a tiny spot just behind her earlobe that made her pant.
“We should get it over with if it is going to hurt anyway.”
Logan groaned and kissed her again. “Stop thinking about it.”
“I can’t. Now I’m scared.”
“Then we won’t.” He knew it was a lie, but he wanted to take the edge off for her. “But I still want to play.”
He kissed her neck, his hands roving her body. Slowly learning every curve, every soft dip and silken rise, until she was writhing beneath him, lost in the fog he tried to rise above.
His touch was slow, deliberate, unhurried. Because they had all night. And he’d use every minute of it if it meant hurting her less. But she didn’t seem inclined to wait, wrapping one leg around him and nestling his arousal against hers. And then she started rocking.
It nearly killed him, but he let her, focusing on her breasts to keep from becoming lost in how hot and wet she became where their bodies met. She mewed, her thighs quaking as she came.
Shifting to the side, he slid a hand between them, caressing her slick folds. His finger slipped easier this time, but like in the tub, the second did not. Rather than forcing anything, he circled her opening with his finger and slid his body down.
He kissed a trail over her breasts and down her belly, pausing at her belly button, swirling his tongue around and around until her hips began to rock again. Enough so he could part her legs farther and hook one over his shoulder.
“Logan? What—” A high-pitched squeal rang through the room when he licked from her sex up to her belly button. She fisted her hands in his hair, tugging it tighter with each panted breath.
“Breeze?” He nibbled at her belly, unable to maneuver.
“That smile.” Releasing her grip, her hands drifted down to frame his face. “When you smile like that, you melt me.”
“I’m trying to.”
“You don’t even have to try.”
Something stirred within him that had nothing to do with physical longing or wanting to make this right for her. A tickle deep in his soul. But it was so much easier to kiss her belly than analyze what it could be.
He spread her thighs wider, opening her to him completely. She gasped as he explored, her fingernails scratching at his scalp. He continued to swirl his finger around her opening until he could finally fit two inside. Mission accomplished. Now it was time to make her beg.
He fluttered his tongue against her bud until she bowed off the bed. Then he switched to lazy circles, teasing around it, but not touching. She wiggled, trying to catch him, pressed her fingers to his scalp, but he would not be moved.
“Please,” she finally whimpered. “Just once more.”
He fastened his mouth on her, taking her higher while he curled his fingers inside. She came hard, pressing him to her as she bucked and writhed, chanting his name. He kept going until her body stilled, stretching her with his fingers while his mouth provided pleasure to override the discomfort.
Laying her legs on the bed, he kissed his way up her thigh and reached onto the nightstand for a condom. She lay back on the pillows, her arm across her forehead, a goofy grin playing at her delicious mouth.
“This is what boneless feels like.” She bit her lip, so he leaned closer and did the same, nibbling a kiss across her grin until her lips parted, her arms reaching for him, her legs parting in welcome.
“Breeze.” He protected them and then nestled himself between her legs. “If it—”
“Stop thinking and keep making love to me.” She pulled him back into the kiss, a kiss so scorching his lips felt like they were on fire, like he could melt into her.
Joining. He wasn’t supposed to be scared. But the primal rush of emotions, the raw desire to crawl into her body and never come out swirled in the lust-filled fog that was his mind. He tried to shake it, to distract himself, but the world shrank as he positioned himself. She tilted her hips upwards, opening for him like a blooming flower.
She sucked the breath from his lungs as he filled her, digging her fingernails into his arms. He stilled, letting them both grow accustomed to the sensation. He’d never experienced anything so intense, and not just physically.
She released the breath she held, her body relaxing. He began to rock against her, in her, through her. She ran her hand up and down his back in time with the rocking, her lazy moans urging him on. He started to thrust in and out but her moaning stopped. Since she was so tight, thrusting became secondary, and he focused on the rocking, gripping her hips in one hand and grinding her against him.
Her breath caught, her hands holding him in place as the spasms began. The clenching, pushing and pulling of her innermost muscles shocked him. He came in a violent throb that shook him so deep he nearly collapsed, his vision narrowing until all he could see were her eyelids fluttering in ecstasy.
She went limp beneath him, her breaths slow and shallow as she stretched her arms overhead and purred like a cat. He wanted to stay inside her, to make her come again so he could feel her release around him, but he withdrew, saving that for another day when he wouldn’t have to worry so much about hurting her.
“Are you okay?” he asked, rolling them to their sides and curling himself behind her.
&nb
sp; She hummed a response, snuggling back into him. “I can’t believe I thought I’d had sex before.”
He chuckled, squeezing her tighter. “It’s an honest mistake.”
“Thank you.” She pulled his hand between hers, kissing his fingertips. “You were amazing.”
“As were you.”
“Next time we can focus on you.” Her body stiffened. “I mean, if, you know, you ever want to try it again.”
“I already booked a flight to Michigan.”
“Michigan?”
“Next Saturday. Scheduled a day off so I could stay Sunday night too.”
She spun to face him. “For Nitrous?”
“For you.” He kissed her gently, but she deepened it, reaching a hand between them to grasp his rebounding arousal. “Baby, you shouldn’t push yourself. You’ll be too sore tomorrow.”
“Then teach me how focus on you.”
Beep. Beep. Beep. The alarm blared for two seconds before Breeze’s hand found the switch. Jolted into consciousness, she looked at the numbers. Five fifteen. She could count on one hand the number of times she didn’t wake up before the alarm sounded and still have fingers left over.
“Come on, the sun’s not even up yet.” A deep voice rumbled behind her.
She froze. Her eyes widened, her breath becoming rapid and shallow as she realized last night hadn’t been another dream. Her chest tightened and she squeezed her eyes shut.
What had she been thinking? Why hadn’t she been thinking? My God, Breeze, where was your impulse control?
“You’re so cold.” He wrapped his body around hers like a blanket, nestling his head in her hair. “Breeze?” He craned his head up and she hid her face in the pillow. “Are you okay? Your heart is racing.”
“No,” she whispered, biting her lip. How could she possibly explain how she felt without ruining the memory of an amazing night? How could she make him understand how frightened she was? A teeth-chattering, knee-quaking kind of terrified.
“Oh.” His whisper puffed against her neck and he lay back down. In a flash the blanket covered both their heads.
“What are you doing?” She turned to face him in the blackness.
For Kicks Page 9