She laughed at herself. Nothing about this situation was normal.
Standing in her bedroom in her warm, fluffy robe and slippers, she tried to decide on what to wear. Did she bother to get dressed, knowing why he was coming over? Did she wear lingerie, or was that overkill? Did she just stay naked under her robe, the easy access way? She huffed out a sigh of frustration. Why was this difficult to figure out? It wasn’t like she was going out with him first. They were just staying here, at her house . . . spending the night in bed and having sex.
Her face flamed as she thought about their short but sexy tumble last week on her couch . . . the way Logan’s hands and mouth had felt on her body. A little shiver went through her and she couldn’t help but smile. She turned back to her dresser with determination. Lingerie. Men liked lingerie. He was doing her the biggest favor ever. The least she could do was wrap up the package in pretty and make him smile.
At eight o’clock sharp, the doorbell rang. Bubbles barked and did her thing, racing to the door, as a new rush of excitement flooded Tess’s body. Oh God, oh God . . .
She opened the door and a whoosh of frigid air hit her. “Oh!” she gasped. “Whoa, it got cold out there!”
“It did.” Logan’s green eyes glittered beneath his wool cap, pulled low. His words came out on a white cloud. “Luckily, I finished up by seven.”
She grabbed his arm to pull him inside. “Jesus, even your coat is freezing!”
“Yeah, well,” he said, “it’s about five degrees out right now.”
“And you were working outside today?”
“Yeah. But then I went home, took a hot shower, ate. I’m fine, Tess.”
She looked him over. He wore a royal-blue parka over his regular outfit of fleece-lined hoodie, jeans, work boots, wool hat, and heavy gloves. His cheeks were ruddy from the cold, and the look on his face showed he was amused and a little confounded by her concern. So she grinned and said, “Okay, tough guy. Glad you’re here and inside now. Let’s get you warmed up.”
“Sounds good.” His eyes took on a playful sparkle. “Funny thing is . . . I can think of a few ways to do that.”
Her heart started beating a little faster. “Mmm. Me too.”
They stood there and grinned at each other, the air around them crackling.
“But how about we start with some hot tea?” she said.
“That’d be great, actually.” He pulled off his hat and gloves. Bubbles nuzzled his leg and let out loud, staccato barks. As he unzipped his parka, he crouched to pet her. “Hello there, little miss.” His large hand stroked across her fur and she licked his skin. “Kisses hello? Well, don’t I feel special.”
Tess smiled. The man was adorable with her dog. Total gold star for him. “Take off your coat, go sit by the fire and warm up. I’ll make you some tea.”
Ten minutes later, they sat together on the couch as he sipped some black chai tea. She noticed how his gray and green sweater set off his eyes, that pale mossy color she’d never seen on anyone else. The ends of his hair were still a little damp from his shower. His large, powerful frame took up space . . . actually, just his presence did. She liked that about him; her Viking hottie, big and commanding even when just sitting quietly. With a soft smile, she curled up into the arm of the plush couch, tucking her soft robe under her legs.
“So . . .” He cleared his throat. “How are you tonight?”
“Fine. Nervous, but fine.”
The corner of his mouth curved up. “Really? Well then, I’ll tell you the truth . . . I’m a little nervous too. I thought it was silly to be, but . . .”
She smiled. “Same here. Why are we nervous? It’s not like we’ve never done anything before. We’re friends, we like each other, we trust each other . . .”
“All that’s true. So I don’t know.” He sipped his tea. “Maybe because it’s not . . . I don’t know, an organic thing, how we planned this tonight? It’s not a natural progression, a spontaneous thing, like the other times we got carried away?”
“I guess.”
They sat in awkward silence for a minute. The fire crackled and popped in the fireplace. Bubbles crossed the floor and went to her doggie bed, circling around in it three times before flopping down.
“I trust you, Logan,” she said softly. She offered him a little grin. “It’ll be fine.”
His eyes warmed at that. “I’m glad. You can trust me, Tess.” He set the mug down on the glass coffee table, then turned to face her. He reached out his hand, open palm up, and she slipped her hand into his. “We’ll get this done. You’ll have your baby. One way or another. Just have faith.”
Her throat thickened from his gentle, supportive words. “Thank you.”
He smiled, then said, “Know what? Come here, but turn around. Sit with your back to me.”
Her brows furrowed as she looked at him, not knowing what he wanted. But she did as he asked. His large hands swept her long hair away, then settled on her shoulders and began to gently knead them. A moan of pleasure fluttered out of her.
“I’m scheduled for a massage next week,” she said, “but the hell with that. You’re so hired.”
He laughed, a deep rumble from his chest. “Trying to help you relax a bit, that’s all.”
“You can tell I’m that tense?”
“Yup.” His fingers made tiny circles along her neck and her eyes slipped closed. “So,” he said casually. “Top five favorite Beatles songs. Go.”
She snorted out a laugh. “Oh please. Like I could pick only five.”
“I knew I liked you.” His hands smoothed back down to her shoulders, working magic. “This robe is so soft . . . it’s nice. But it’s kind of in the way. So, um . . . you wearing anything underneath? I’m thinking it’d be easier to just massage your skin.”
Without a word, she undid the knot of the robe and let it slide off her shoulders. She heard his breath catch as her dusky purple negligee was revealed to him. Wanting to see his reaction, she turned her head to peek over her shoulder. The mesmerized look on his face made it worth it. “For you,” she whispered.
“Jesus,” he murmured, his eyes locked on her body encased in silk. He fingered one spaghetti strap over her shoulder. “My God . . .” He licked his lips as his eyes traveled over her body. “I have a confession to make.” His hand ran slowly down her bare arm, then up again. His eyes met hers and held. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. And I’ve always thought that. From the moment I first saw you. That’s the God’s honest truth.”
“Wow.” She turned a little more to better meet his now hungry gaze. “Thank you. I’m very, very flattered.”
“You’re very, very beautiful.” His hands skimmed up her arms, then turned her away from him to resume his massage. As he rubbed her shoulders, he cleared his throat. “That nightie is stunning on you. I can’t wait to peel you out of it.”
She smiled brightly, mentally congratulating herself. “Glad you like it.”
“Like it? Full disclosure: I’m totally turned on right now. You take my breath away, Tess.”
Her breath hitched, but she managed to say, “Good to know.”
“Yeah, well . . . all we have to do now is get you a little more relaxed . . .” His warm, powerful hands were so gentle on her skin, Tess couldn’t believe it. “So. You can’t pick only five, fair enough. I don’t think I can either. So just tell me some of your favorites.”
Her mind was cloudy with growing desire; it took her a few seconds to figure out what he was talking about. Oh, Beatles songs. Right. Okay. “‘Blackbird,’” she started. His fingers kneaded the muscles in her neck. “Um . . . ‘I Will.’ ‘Julia.’ ‘She Came In Through the Bathroom Window.’ ‘Across the Universe.’ ‘Paperback Writer.’ ‘Taxman.’ ‘She’s Leaving Home.’ ‘Two of Us.’”
“Ohh, ‘Two of Us’ is an all-time fave song of mine, period. Excellent choice.” Logan’s hands never ceased or strayed from her neck and shoulders. She was turning to putty. “Th
ose are all good ones, ma’am. You’re a true fan. I approve.”
“Are the Beatles your favorite group?” she asked.
“One of them,” he said. His fingers stroked her skin without demand, giving nothing but tenderness. She felt like she was slowly melting into a big, pleasured pile of goo. “I like classic rock best. Mainly from the sixties and seventies, some eighties. Not much after, say, Pearl Jam and Soundgarden. Guess I’m a bit of a throwback.”
“Thor is an old-school rock god,” she teased. “I can see that being your style.”
“What do you listen to?”
“A little of everything . . .”
They talked about music for a while, her back to him, his hands comforting on her skin and his deep voice soothing in her ear. She gazed at the fire and felt herself loosen up; he successfully calmed her body and distracted and quieted her mind. By the time he gently eased her back against his chest, she was totally comfortable.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Like a warm puddle of mush,” she replied. “You’re good at this. You’re a genius, actually. I’m completely relaxed now.”
“Mission accomplished.”
“And then some.”
“Great. But you’re not going to fall asleep on me, are you?” His voice, low and playful, vibrated from his chest against her back as his arms slipped slowly around her.
“No way.” She tipped up her chin to look at him. He was already gazing down at her, an interesting mixture of calm assurance and growing desire clear in his eyes. His hand slid up her side, skimming her ribs, the side of her breast, over her shoulder. Their gazes locked. She reached up to touch his face, running her fingertips along his beard until she pulled his head down. Their mouths met in a sweet kiss.
She felt the flames of desire flicker and spark inside her as they kissed, the delicious heat building at a slow and steady pace. He shifted her in his arms for better access, his big hands sliding along the silk as they settled into a full embrace. Her mouth opened and his tongue swept inside, tasting her, consuming her bit by bit. The kisses deepened, a slow, sensual burn. He lifted her up to sit on his lap, facing him, pressed against him, so he could wrap his arms around her and hold her close. Her fingers sifted through his hair as the kisses burned hotter. Fire seared through her body, want and need rising in her core. She rolled her hips against his erection and he groaned into her mouth, his fingers digging into her hips.
“Are you ready?” he asked in a thick whisper against her lips.
She nodded even as her heart rate took off like a shot.
“Then let’s go to your room,” he said, kissing her jaw, her chin, then back to her lips. “You deserve a bed, to have this done right. Not here on the couch.”
She only nodded again. The air felt stuck in her lungs.
Without missing a beat he stood, lifting her with him, holding her against him in his strong arms.
“What are you doing?” she asked in surprise as he cradled her.
“Carrying you.” He kissed her, long and deep, holding her securely. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”
She did as she was told. Breathless from his gesture, swept away, she dipped her head into the crook of his neck. “My room’s at the end of the hall,” she whispered against his skin.
“I know where the master bedroom is,” he assured her.
Seemingly without effort, he crossed the length of the living room, went up the stairs, and down the hall to her bedroom. The only light in her room was the dim softness of one small lamp on the dresser. He set her down carefully on the king-size sleigh bed and smiled down at her, sweeping her hair back from her face.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” she whispered.
He silenced her with a deep, commanding kiss, aligning his large, warm body with hers. With a whimper of submission, she let herself drown in sensation. They held each other and kissed, letting the passion build. Any traces of her initial nervousness or awkwardness were fading away. She wanted him more with each minute.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she finally said.
He grinned, then sat up and pulled his sweater off over his head, tossing it aside. Then he stood up and pushed off his jeans. Standing before her in only tight navy boxer briefs, Tess sucked in a breath at the sight of him. She’d known he had a great body because it was obvious, but seeing him unclothed for the first time . . . He was magnificent. That six-foot-four frame had muscles everywhere. His arms, his chest, his abs, his thighs . . . good Lord. The Thor nickname was perfect, really, whether he liked it or not. She got up onto her knees and reached up to let her fingertips drift through the light dusting of hair on his broad chest, over the Celtic tattoo on one strong shoulder . . .
“Damn,” she murmured in appreciation. Her fingers ran eagerly over his skin, warm and firm. His eyes blazed as he watched her explore his body. “And you think I’m gorgeous? Look at you . . .” She moved in to press her lips to his chest, her mouth trailing along his skin, kissing, licking, nipping at him everywhere.
His breathing now staggered, his voice dropped low as he said, “Glad you like what you see. That must help . . .” His hands threaded through her hair.
“I like what I see, what I feel . . .” Her teeth scraped his nipple and he hissed, his fingers tightening in her curls. “Mmmm.”
“Holy hell,” he breathed, letting her take control for a moment, obviously enjoying her touch. Then he asked, “Tess, before we . . . is there anything I need to do?”
She pulled back to look at him and joked, “I can only think of one thing.”
He snorted out a laugh. “Well, yeah, that. But I meant, like . . . I don’t know, anything else? To help you. I don’t know, during, after . . . ?”
She blinked as she realized he was serious. “Oh.” God, he was such a good guy. “Well . . . it’s going to be a little awkward, but as soon as we’re done, I need to raise my hips. That helps, supposedly.” She flicked her chin toward the curved wood headboard of the sleigh bed. “I figure I’ll just swing my legs up over that. Maybe you could shove a pillow under my hips. That’s about it, I think.”
“Easy enough.” He leaned over her, slowly easing her back to lie down again. He hovered over her, leaning up on his elbows as his body settled on top of hers. With a playful grin, trailing his fingertips along her face, he murmured, “All right then, Long Island Lady. Let’s get you pregnant.”
Chapter Sixteen
Tenderly, Logan lowered his head and consumed her mouth with his in a deep, sumptuous kiss. Talk about pressure to perform. If they could just get this first time out of the way, get past the awkward fumbling as they learned each other . . . the chemistry was there. The trust was there. They just had to get past the first round.
She needed him to be a calm, assuring presence. He sensed that as soon as he’d walked through the door. The look in her eyes . . . He’d seen such vulnerability there. It wasn’t what he’d come to expect from her, and made him immediately want to comfort her and put her at ease. And yes, he’d done that, but now he had to seal the deal.
He wasn’t in bed with her just because he was a lucky guy and this gorgeous woman was attracted to him. He was there for a very specific purpose, and that was the most important thing.
It helped that they liked each other. It helped that they were friends now. It helped that they’d spent some time together, getting to know each other more and getting more comfortable around each other. It helped that she’d worn that unbelievably gorgeous nightie, the soft color so beautiful against her delicate skin, the satin and lace enticing him. But he had a job to do.
“Tess . . .” he whispered against her skin. Biting down softly on her earlobe, drawing a gasp from her, he trailed his lips and tongue along her neck. “Close your eyes. Stop thinking. Just feel. It’s going to be okay.” He reached up to caress her body over the smooth silk, marveling at how perfectly her small breast fit in his large hand, like she was made for him. He covered
her in kisses. “It’s going to be better than okay. If you let yourself go a little, I’ll make sure it’s going to be great.” He fondled one breast, then the other. She undulated under his touch, her nipples pebbling through the silk. His heart beat harder, lust flooding him, making his cock swell. “We’re going to make this happen. If not tonight, then another night. As many tries as it takes. But we got this. So relax, Tess. Okay?”
He pulled up to look at her, and her eyes seemed to glow with appreciation. Finally she smiled and whispered, “You’re a really good friend.” She sifted her fingers through his hair, gripping his head to bring his mouth back to hers.
He kissed her deep and hot, letting the growing hunger inside him take over. She responded instantly, kissing him back with matching passion, their tongues tangling. They kissed, caressed, pressed their bodies together, letting their hands roam and their mouths devour.
He kissed his way down her body over the soft silk, down between her breasts, down her belly . . . He nudged the hem of the negligee up with his face until he could kiss the skin of her belly.
“Your beard is tickling me,” she whispered. “I love it.”
He smiled against her skin and circled his tongue around her navel, then trailed it lower. With a gasp, her fingers twisted in his hair as her breathing got choppy and soft sighs turned into needy moans.
He ran his fingers over her satiny panties and felt the heat there. The thin material was already damp. A surge of something like victory rushed through him; she was with him, as aroused as he was. He peeled the panties off of her, trailing his fingers down her thighs and following the motion with hot, openmouthed kisses. He’d been dying to let his hands run up and down her mile-long legs from the first day he’d seen her, and this was a dream come true. He savored it, letting his mouth follow wherever his hands traveled.
She moaned louder now, nudging his head back to where she wanted him. He wanted it too; he was dying to taste her. He sealed his mouth to her warm folds, spreading her legs wider with commanding hands. She cried out, her fingers in his hair, and her hips rose to meet him. He devoured her, feasting on her without stopping, her passionate response making his own desire burn hotter in his veins.
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