by Karen Booth
Stupid straight and narrow. Of course she wasn’t fine.
He pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “Huh. Maybe you’re right. Well, first time for everything, right? Unless you’d rather fully immerse yourself in the role of my fake, serious girlfriend and seduce me.” He rolled to his side and propped up his head with his hand.
“I have plenty of roles to play right now, thank you. Let’s just get some sleep, okay? We have a long day ahead of us and I’m exhausted.” She gingerly climbed beneath the covers. That one movement caused goose bumps to pepper her arms. Why her body had this unrelenting reaction to Logan was a mystery. She only knew it was a constant, and even after all the years of ups and downs, showed no sign of abating.
She flipped off the lamp, plunging them into darkness and quiet. She rolled to her side, away from him. He shifted in the bed, but he did what he always did, which was more of a flop than a gentle roll. She tried to ignore it. Tried to pay no attention to what her body was telling her, to snug herself up to him, let him envelop her in those arms, keep her warm, make her feel safe.
He shifted in the bed again, except this time she heard his slow and measured breaths. He’d dozed off already. He’d always been like that. His body seemed to have little trouble finding sleep.
She turned to her other side, which was far more comfortable. That put her close enough to touch him, to feel his soft breath against her face. It was hard not to continue to cling to an alternate version of what had happened after the reunion. Thoughts of what this moment might be like if things had been different, if he hadn’t called things off. If they’d kept it together all summer. If he’d just believed that they belonged together. The same way she did, however much it pained her to acknowledge it.
Reaching over, she pulled the covers up over his arm. She’d always care for him. That wasn’t going anywhere. She knew that much. And he might be the father of her child. That wasn’t going anywhere, either. Her mind leaped ahead to the end of the weekend, to that moment when she would tell her parents. Maybe she should’ve had the DNA test. But then again, if she had, and the baby wasn’t his, Logan would remove himself from her life forever.
She placed her hand on her lower belly. If she was being completely honest with herself, there were far too many moments when she really wished that Logan was the dad. She wouldn’t treat the baby any differently if he wasn’t the father, but her heart really wanted it to be Logan. At least there had been love between them at some point. And despite their problems, they were friends. If there was a problem, she’d be able to call him, and she knew with certainty that he would help her. He would play the role of dad beautifully if that was what he became. As to the question of the role of husband and whether that day would come with her, the answer was no. She was too certain that friendship and attraction were not enough to sustain them. She needed him to love her.
Seven
“Ow! Ow!”
Logan opened one eye to darkness.
“Ow!” Jules yelped again. The bed shook.
He flipped on the lamp, wincing at the light, but alert. He hadn’t really been asleep. Just dozing and replaying the kiss, along with her insistence that she’d felt nothing. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“Sorry. It’s my leg. A cramp.” She tossed back the covers and practically folded herself in half.
Scrambling out from under the comforter, he raced around to the other side of the bed. “Give me your leg.” He grabbed her ankle, using both hands to flex her foot.
“Ow!” She reached for him, her face scrunched up in agony.
“Just lie back and try to relax.” He gently raised her foot and planted it against his chest, massaging the calf muscle to unwind it from its painful contraction.
Julia knocked her head back on the bed and rocked it back and forth, a smile breaking across her face. “Oh, thank God. It’s going away.”
Logan pressed on her foot a little harder with his shoulder to get the full stretch while caressing her leg. Her skin was impossibly soft, conjuring so many pleasurable memories, accompanied right now by enticing visuals. Her pajama leg had slipped down to the middle of her thigh, revealing the part of her that he most loved wrapped around him. His hand spanned the back of her leg, rubbing from ankle to knee, up and down, the feel of her velvety skin slowly driving him mad, and yet there was no way he was about to let go. “Better?”
“Much. I keep getting charley horses in my sleep. It’s a pregnancy thing. I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“You didn’t really. I was basically awake.”
“I hope I wasn’t snoring.”
He laughed quietly. “You weren’t. I was thinking about last night.”
Several heartbeats of silence played out. “Last night?”
“The kiss. I don’t want to give you a hard time about it, but am I crazy? Was there really nothing there?”
She chewed on her lower lip. Something of substance was running around in that beautiful head of hers, and he really hoped it wasn’t the endless loop of denial. She sighed and looked him in the eye. “There was something there. There’s always something there. Can’t we leave it at that?”
Back and forth, he continued rubbing her leg. She was perfectly fine now. Her cramp was gone. He could walk away. Except that he couldn’t, especially not after she’d finally told the truth. There in the soft, early-morning light, he couldn’t get past how gorgeous she was. Rich brown hair splayed out against the white of the sheets, pleased grin on her face as she gave in to his touch, and then there were the sounds coming from her mouth. He kneaded her leg a little deeper with his fingers.
“That feels so good.” Her voice was a sweet purr, uttering words he’d heard her say many times over their reunion weekend. She arched her back, then settled into the bed. Through the thin fabric of her tank top, he couldn’t help but notice that her nipples had responded in a positive way. It took everything not to reach out and touch them. Not to lower himself to the bed and slip those skinny straps from her shoulders, cup her voluptuous breasts in his hands. Kiss her. Make her admit again that she felt something.
“Good. I’m glad. I like making you feel good.” He couldn’t have cared less that his words dripped with innuendo. All of the troubles and rough spots between them seemed so inconsequential right now. With the morning hours stretching out before them, all he wanted was to make love to her. He’d not only satisfy the thirst for her that never went away, he was certain that he’d know how she felt. He was tired of trying to interpret everything she said and did. The two rarely matched up.
With each pass of his hands, he made his journey a bit longer. He reached her slender ankle at the top of the pass, and now he was venturing beyond the back of her knee, lower and lower on her thigh.
“I could just stay like this all day.” She put her hands behind her head and smiled. “My legs were killing me after all of that running around and standing all day yesterday.”
“We don’t need to be anywhere until your dress fitting, right?” That was at noon. He glanced at the clock, rubbing her leg, never losing contact. It was only a few minutes past seven. They had time. Oh boy did they have time. Everything in his body tensed at the idea, blood now fiercely coursing through him. Breathing became tougher, nearly forced. Thinking wasn’t much easier. Would his way back in really be this simple?
“Yes. But don’t talk about the wedding. It’ll ruin the mood.” She closed her eyes, her full mouth relaxed, a look of near-bliss on her face.
The mood. There was no mistaking that phrasing. He slowed the pace of his hand, dipping below her knee, inching lower along her thigh. All he could hear was his own heartbeat thumping in his ears and a breathy hum from Julia. He knew that hum, and it meant only one thing. His hand kept going, inches beyond previous passes. She didn’t flinch. Her eyes remained closed. His body reacted with an abrup
t stiffening in his chest, warmth creeping down his torso and below his waist, the most primal of responses to the beautiful creature in his clutches. Was this going to happen? Or was he still asleep, and stuck in a dream?
* * *
Whatever Julia could say about Logan and the ways in which he made her mad or hurt her, the man had amazing hands—one might go so far as to say he was gifted. And then there was his incredibly firm chest. With her foot planted against the muscular plane, she appreciated how solid it was.
His hands might have started as givers of therapeutic massage, but there was no mistaking their new role as tools of seduction. She had zero inclination to fight it. She didn’t care to think about it. It was too good to be bad. Maybe this was what they needed to figure things out—work out their problems in bed.
He dipped his hand lower, his grip on the back of her leg just strong enough to tell her his intentions. Or at least what she surmised as his intentions. She begged the universe—please don’t let this be another time when she’d managed to read him wrong. Her body was becoming far too accustomed to the idea of what could be coming next—Logan’s sleeping attire on the floor, followed quickly by her own.
His thumb rode along the inside of her thigh, his other fingers clamped around the outside of her leg, his palm creating heat and friction. Slow and rhythmic, his movements brought about a trancelike state, one in which she didn’t care about repercussions or what might happen to her stupid heart if she let Logan back in. She only knew that she wanted him in. Inside. Her.
She opened her eyes, one at a time, nervous she’d built this all in her head, and all she’d see was a disinterested Logan. Her truth-seeking brought a rich reward—his eyelids heavy with desire. How she loved seeing that expression on his face. It was the sexiest thing she could imagine. So sexy that she was sure there was no luckier woman anywhere on the planet right now. They were all alone. The door was locked. Clothes coming off and kissing and touching and lovemaking...they all felt possible now. She squirmed against the bed, goose bumps popping up along the surface of her skin. Her face flushed with dry heat, as if she were basking in the sun. Every inch of her wanted him.
“Have I mentioned how good that feels?” she asked, pleased with how genuinely seductive her voice was.
“It feels good to me, too.” His gaze was so intent, eyes dark and focused on her, as if he had nothing on his mind but consuming her.
But he wasn’t making a move, and now her brain was searching for the next thing to say. He hadn’t left her with an opening. He hadn’t led her to the next step. Perhaps he was waiting for her to take charge. Not surprising considering the way things had gone since Wednesday afternoon. She’d put him in his place more than once.
She wiggled her toes, then dug them into the skin of his chest. His hand was on one of the heavenly downward passes. He was mere inches from her center now. Her pajama pants were as bunched up around her upper thigh as they could be. If he wanted to go any farther, he’d have to slip his hand beneath the fabric.
“My pajamas are in the way.” She held her breath, waiting for his response.
“I noticed. What do you want to do about that?”
The low rumble in his voice made her back arch again. He wanted her to say it. If she was going to repay the pleasure of the last few minutes, he deserved as much. “I want you to take them off.”
His eyebrows bounced, conveying a cockiness he’d earned. “I’m a big fan of that answer.” He gently lowered her leg until it was hanging off the edge of the bed like her other.
He towered over her as her vision drifted across his strong shoulders, down his muscled chest and defined stomach. Her eyes dipped lower, and she relished the thought of what would soon be hers, as there was no hiding his current enthusiasm—and readiness—for sex. His warm fingers curled under the waistband of her pajama pants, sending a shiver down her spine as he shimmied the fabric down her legs. She never wore panties under her pj’s; it always felt like an unnecessary extra layer of clothes. Aside from her tank top, she was as bare to him as she could possibly be.
They hadn’t marked this first moment of vulnerability when they first made love after the reunion. They were both too eager, all action, stopping for few words. At least the first time. There was a stillness to this moment, an anticipation that left her breathless. Perhaps it was because this time they’d arrived by chance, the two of them falling together, as was their natural inclination.
He stepped out of his boxers and she had to shift up onto her elbows to admire him, all chiseled physique and masculinity. A sly smile crossed his heavenly lips as he stretched out on the bed next to her. He cupped her face and kissed her softly, gently. He took his time. She loved that about sex with Logan. He rarely rushed, and she was always the priority, even when they were both feeling frantic. His tongue wound in languid circles with hers, enough to make her feel dizzy. Their two kisses yesterday had taken hours to shake off. She’d be lucky if she could stand up straight anytime soon after this one.
He flattened his hand against her belly and slipped it underneath her top. She sat up for a second and removed it, then settled next to him again. His hand slowly crept to the flat plane in the center of her chest, fingers smoothing up over the top of one breast; blood rushed to flood her skin, tightening her nipple.
“I don’t want to hurt you. You’ll have to tell me what’s too much.” He gently circled the hardened peak with the tip of his finger, teasing and making her crazy in the process.
“It all feels good right now. All of it.” She watched as he lowered his head and gave her nipple a soft lick, swirling his tongue around it before drawing it into his mouth. She closed her eyes and reached down between them, wrapping her fingers around his steely length and stroking.
A low groan left his throat and his mouth returned to hers, kissing her with greater vigor than before. He rolled to his back and pulled her with him, inviting her to press her full body weight into his. They fell into a kiss both soft and intense, different from the other kisses this weekend. There was a freeness that hadn’t been there before—probably the feeling of setting aside her reservations. She rocked her body against his, craving deeper contact, everything between her legs hungry for him.
Luckily, no birth control was necessary. She straddled his hips, not giving up on their mind-blowing kiss, their tongues winding in circles as the scruff on his face faintly scratched at her cheeks and chin. He had the most amazing smell in the morning—the faintest traces of woodsy cologne, blended with sleep. It was intoxicating and all his own. She raised her bottom and took his erection in hand, guiding him inside her. Her eyes drifted closed as he filled her perfectly, inch by inch. The sense that she’d reached the promised land was immense, probably because she remembered exactly how good this would be, but it was an odd sensation—her body immersed in quiet jubilation and eager anticipation at the same time.
He took her breasts into his hands, squeezing, then raising his head and sucking on each nipple. The tension inside her had been quickly building already, but that sent her racing for her peak. She kissed him again, wanting to languish in this beautiful moment, knowing that whatever happened this weekend, she would at least have another beautiful memory to stow away in her head. He slipped his hand between their bodies, his thumb finding her apex. He wound it in tiny circles, knowing exactly how to play this, and she luckily could dictate the pressure with her body weight. Still, it was as if he’d been born with the instruction manual for her body inside his head, and he pursued a tempo that perfectly matched the rhythm of his thrusts.
His breaths came shorter now, much like hers, and the muscles of his torso and hips began to coil tighter beneath her. The peak was upon her, her breath hitching in her chest, and everything around her was falling away...everything except Logan. The waves kept coming, and then he cried out with a forceful thrust, his arms reining her in tightly.
She collapsed against him as contentment enveloped her. She was exactly where she’d wanted to be from the moment she first saw him two days ago—safe in his embrace.
Logan didn’t hesitate to pull her back into their kiss, the motions of his lips helping her savor this blissful moment.
Then Logan’s cell phone rang.
It registered as a minor annoyance with Julia, but he ended the kiss, rolling away from her. “No no no,” he groaned.
She smiled and smoothed her hand over his stomach. She wasn’t about to let technology cut this short. “Let it go to voice mail. We have all morning.” She drew a lazy circle in the center of his chest with her finger. “Now where were we?”
He closed his eyes and moved her hand. “I hate to say this, but we’re done for the morning.” The phone continued its interruption. “That ringtone is literally the only sound that can ruin the mood.” He rolled away again and strode across the room.
“Just ignore it. Come back.” She patted the mattress, wishing she could transport him back to where he’d just been.
“It’s my mom. I have to answer it. She’ll just keep calling if I don’t. Plus, the mere thought of my mom makes a repeat performance impossible.”
Julia sighed and scooted back on the bed, resting her head on the pillow. She pulled the sheet up to her chin. The moment was indeed over.
“Mom, hey. I’m sorry I haven’t called. Things have been crazy busy since I got here.” He cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder, pulling a pair of basketball shorts out of his suitcase and tugging them on.
And there went my view.