A slow, lazy smile spread across his face. “You were listening.”
It was confirmed—he absolutely had no idea what effect he was having on me.
We reached the hotel before I knew it. As we strode through the lobby my mind was on him. On his smile. His scent. His low-slung pants. It wasn’t like I was thinking about some unreachable fantasy. I was thinking about him. And me. And fucking.
As we got into the elevator and it started to move, I became all too aware that my body was humming, buzzing with need. In the confined space, it was taking all of my strength to fight against the lustful desire that was trying to make its way deep inside me. I’d told myself to push him out of my thoughts, but how could I do that when he was right beside me, exuding whatever it was that kept drawing me to him?
Logan glanced over at me and I knew the moment he became aware of my lustful trance. I felt the blood rush to my face, and I swallowed hard. My parted lips and heavy breathing were a dead giveaway. Not to mention my nipples felt like diamonds, and there was a steady pulsing between my legs that was beginning to ache.
He leaned closer.
He knew now what he was doing to me.
My clit was throbbing.
Space.
I needed space.
Thank God, the elevator doors opened and I used that as my cue to put some distance between us. With long strides, I stepped out ahead of him and but then turned back to see how Clementine was doing. Her eyes were closed and her head tilted to the side of the stroller. She’d fallen asleep on the walk back to the hotel.
Why I let it happen I don’t know, but my gaze rose, and again I found myself staring at those lips. Those lips that had to send women everywhere reeling—I knew they did. With a dry throat, I managed, “Looks like she decided it was nap time.”
Logan dropped his own gaze. “Will she wake up when I move her?”
I smiled. “No, she’s a good sleeper. She’ll sleep a solid two to three hours.”
He looked at his watch and seemed to be calculating something, as if time was of the essence. “How about you stay here with her and I’ll head over to the boutique and see if the garage door opener is in your bag?”
I contemplated the suggestion for a moment but found nothing wrong with it. “Sure, but I’m almost certain it must be.”
The more time that went by, the more I began to think I was overreacting.
Logan stopped in front of his hotel room door and pulled his key card out. Intently, I watched him. I couldn’t seem to drag my eyes away from him. Once we were inside, he pushed the stroller to his bedroom. I watched as he transferred Clementine to the crib. He was getting more comfortable with her, although he still looked worried that he might break her.
I couldn’t help but laugh at that thought.
He turned around and peered curiously at me.
With a lift of my brows and a rise of one shoulder, I shrugged it off and then reached for the blanket that was at the end of the bed. As I covered her, I met his eyes and whispered, “Thank you.”
Feeling warm, I unzipped my fleece and tossed it where the blanket had been. His eyes turned hungry as I circled the bed and a shiver danced down my spine. This attraction between us was too much. I didn’t know how to deal with it.
Dropping my gaze, I waved him out of the room. My purse was on the table and I went for it. It was best if he left. Digging inside, I found my keys and pulled them out. I took the key for the boutique off the loop and handed it to him. “Here you go. The boutique is closed on Sunday and Monday, but Peyton might be there. Just in case she’s not, the pass code for the alarm is . . .” I faltered.
He was standing right beside me. Excitement stirred in the air. He was so close that I could smell his heavenly scent. He smelled of the soap in the shower and he smelled like pure man. For some insane reason, I wanted to bury my nose in his neck and sniff him.
Shoving the key in his direction, I finished, “two-five-six-nine. If you forget it, just spell
blow
.”
Instead of taking the key and leaving like I thought he would, Logan swirled it around his own key chain and set it on the table. Then he stepped even closer. So close our bodies were almost touching.
I wanted them to be.
Then they were.
Like magnets, we were drawn together.
He had leaned forward just a bit and then his fingers were on my face, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear.
Feeling electrified, my body jerked as his flesh came in direct contact with mine, and my breath caught at the intensity of the physical connection.
“I want you,” he whispered at the same time he lightly nipped at my bottom lip. “Right now.”
I nodded, silently telling him I wanted him too—and right now.
The feeling of his lean, muscular body pressed against mine only served to further ignite my desire. With a desperation I didn’t understand, I pulled myself closer. Close enough that my hard nipples pushed against his unyielding chest.
Logan made a sound of approval deep in his throat.
I wanted to close my eyes but couldn’t. I had to see him. I looked up into his eyes, those light and dark eyes, and lost myself in him.
He looked at me like nothing else mattered but having me.
I shivered from that look alone.
It wasn’t long before his hands were running up my sides and when he lifted me, I wanted this like I’d never wanted anything. Responding in the only way that made sense, I wrapped both my arms and legs around him and then did just what I had wanted to do—buried my face in his neck. With my lips touching his skin and his scent invading me, my senses came alive. The edges of his hair tickled wonderfully against my cheek. The feel of his hands, now firmly grasping my hips, seared me as if he were branding me. His heavy breathing was all I could hear.
What came next happened so fast. We were moving. He was setting me down on the sofa. His hands were dragging up my body to the hem of my shirt. He lifted it over my head, leaving me almost bare. Putting his hands all over me.
My body hummed with pleasure. My belly tightened, thighs trembled, and my clit pulsed. With shaky fingers I unzipped his sweatshirt and he helped me take it off. Then I grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and his chest was bare too. Now, both our hands were all over each other.
With a lick of my lips, I allowed my eyes to graze over him—he was the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on. No,
handsome
didn’t convey how devastatingly good-looking he really was. Maybe
ruggedly beautiful
better described him. I’d have to come up with the perfect phrase. He was soft and hard at the same time, muscular but not overly so. The line of his jaw, the shape of his nose—they were hard, but his features were softened by those incredible hazel eyes outlined in dark, thick lashes.
My gaze slid down. Seeing the lines in his muscles made my heart beat fast, watching the flexing of his biceps had me biting down on my lower lip, and the way his abs rippled down into the waistband of his pants caused my body to clench with a need that I’d never felt.
Logan dropped his gaze. I noticed yesterday in the shower that he didn’t look into my eyes when he was fucking me. Today, I was coming to the conclusion that was also true when it came to foreplay.
It was fine. I didn’t want to talk. He preferred not to look into my eyes.
We both had hang-ups.
I understood that.
I accepted that.
But right now, they just didn’t matter.
He made up for his avoidance of eye contact by moving in a way that told me he was determined to have me. He pulled off my sneakers and tossed them to the ground and then he took off his shoes. In silence, he lowered himself onto me, and there was no denying how much he wanted me.
Heat flared in my belly.
I forced myself to believe we weren’t on opposite sides and I focused on his movements.
Everything became this man.
Everything he did was all I could think about, including the way he slid his hands to the back of my neck and pulled the ponytail holder from my hair. I even thought about how although he wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t rough. I especially liked the way his fingers tangled in my locks and tipped my head back, exposing my throat.
Oh God.
Then he slid those soft lips down my skin and his fingers followed.
I felt each beat of his breath and mine.
Logan didn’t stop until he reached my bra, and when he did, his tongue licked the lacy edges of the fabric and then his fingers pushed one of the cups to the side.
Excitement danced in my belly.
My nipples were tight, like hard steel tips. No, they were hard, aching steel tips. When Logan skimmed his thumb over one, I sucked in a breath and nearly gasped. But when his mouth closed around it, and I felt tongue, teeth, and lips all at the same time, I practically whimpered.
It felt so good—warm and wicked.
Eventually, my squirming must have given away how much more I needed, because Logan stopped his ministrations to my breasts and worked his way back up to my throat. That torture was equally sweet as he sucked the sensitive skin between his teeth along the way. The bites didn’t hurt, but they did send sensations ripping through me.
We were on the sofa and room was limited, but still I bucked beneath him with writhing need. Like a lioness out of her cage, I felt wild. My hands found the back of his head and I threaded my fingers in his hair. Tugging it, I pulled him to my mouth where I wanted those lips on me.
He groaned, and that was when his hands slid down from my breasts to my hips to inside the waistband of my pants. He didn’t take them off right away and although I wanted him to, I didn’t want his mouth to leave mine either.
Luckily, it didn’t have to.
He somehow knew what I needed and his palm pressed against my clit on the outside of my panties. Again, I writhed beneath him. I’d never felt this sexually charged. I was thirty years old, a self-proclaimed sexually repressed adult, and I was melting beneath this man like a sex-starved teenager.
Soon, I was reduced to nothing but a body of tingling nerve endings. The way his fingers slid inside my panties and found my slick heat electrified me from head to toe. He knew what he was doing, though; he took his time, teasing me, gliding up to caress my clit and back down.
Over and over.
He remained quiet except for the sounds of sucking in a breath and a few groans.
I’m not sure if he read my signs or didn’t want to talk because he feared waking Clementine, but either way, I was glad for it.
This was far too enjoyable to end. In truth, I’m not sure I could end it.
Breathless, I moved my hands to his bare shoulders and slid my tongue down his throat, and just like he had, I pulled his skin between my teeth. I might have been rougher, he might have a mark—I wasn’t sure. I just couldn’t control myself.
His responding groan told me he was burning just like I was, and his body language told me not to stop, so I didn’t. Not until I had to. Not until I couldn’t focus on anything but his fingers dipping inside me. The way it felt when he slid them in and out. The circling of his thumb, the movement of his hand, the wetness I could feel dripping onto my panties.
I couldn’t believe it but I was going to come—like this—beneath him, with our pants on and his hands inside my panties. Oh, yes, I was going to come, right now. I didn’t do this. I hardly ever came from a man’s touch alone. It took moving mountains, hours of men trying, to make me come. Yet I was already tipping over the edge.
Sensation after delicious sensation was all I could feel. And they were coming one after the other, fast and furious. So much so that my fingernails dug into his skin as dizzying amounts of pleasure surrounded me. Logan didn’t stop. He kept the pace up and I rode his hand.
And then I completely shattered, biting my lip to stifle my cries as my clit spasmed over and over, each spark of pleasure causing me to cry out.
Logan kissed my neck and slowed his fingers as my body shuddered beneath him. When my grip on him let up, he cupped me as he had in the beginning, his palm pressed tight to my sex.
My body was limp and sated. I felt amazing, but then I made the mistake of thinking how I’d never enjoyed a man making me come like I just had. The thought caused me to freak out a little.
Was I now going to be a sex addict like my father?
I tried to catch my breath but couldn’t at first. When Logan went to kiss me, I turned my head and his mouth landed on my cheek. Mine landed in the crook of his neck. Since his eyes were closed, I’m certain he thought it was just mechanics.
With a deep inhale, I caught his scent and immediately started breathing more steadily. He calmed me without even knowing it and wanting more of him, I moved my mouth to find his. I wanted to lose myself in him again.
Even though my body was limp and languid, his lips on mine were all I needed to restoke that fire that was already burning within me. Not only did I want to feel more of what I’d just felt, I wanted Logan to feel the exact same thing. The idea of give and take was what stopped me from thinking what my mind had just been skating around.
With desperate urgency, I found his pants and unzipped them. He helped me out again by shoving them down. When he stood before me in only his black boxer briefs, my arousal escalated to an alarming level.
I needed to touch him.
There.
My fingers grazed along the outside of the soft fabric and he was long and full. I just had to see him. With a prowess I had only ever made myself exhibit in the past, I eased off those Calvin Kleins. I was doing this willingly. My sexual interest in Logan was anything but forced. In fact, I had to take a moment to admire him. The leanness of his body didn’t reflect the fullness of his cock. I wanted him.
Sex was next on the table. It was a fact. Since my limbs were no longer in a Jell-O-like state, I reached for him and stroked him up and down. He was silky soft and really hard. Logan made a noise and I looked up. As soon as our eyes collided, he dropped his mouth to my ear. His voice was tight, low, and thick with need when he whispered, “Let’s get your pants off.”