We say goodbye and I lie there staring at the ceiling, knowing Logan is probably right down the hall in his bedroom by now. He could be doing the same thing I am.
My hands shake as I bring up my phone and type “Logan Stone marriage photos” into my browser. There’s my drunken face front and center. I click on the link for some gossip blog and refrain from reading the article, zooming in on the picture like Molly said to do.
I stare at Logan’s face and try to look at him as someone on the outside might. We’re both looking at each other. I have a bouquet of fake flowers, and Elvis and his wife have just thrown birdseed that’s sprinkling down on us. Logan and I are laughing at one another, but it’s the look on our faces, like we’ve known each other forever, that gets me. It’s as though there’s an inside joke only we share.
I scroll down on the page. There’s another picture of us where Logan has me pressed against the open door of the SUV, our lips on one another’s. My hand is fisted in his shirt as if I’m afraid he’ll get away. The next picture is me crawling in the car and Logan entering right after me. The last picture is of the SUV driving away.
There are so many reasons why I look carefree—tequila likely the biggest—but I don’t get that comfortable with men usually. And never in only one night. Maybe I do need to explore this thing between us.
I leave my phone on the bed and sit up, gaining the fortitude to make the move I should’ve earlier. Rising from the bed, I stare at the door as if it’s a wormhole portal that’ll take me to another dimension. Do I have the guts to see what’s on the other side?
Before I second-guess myself, I walk over and open the door, then I tiptoe down the hall. I knock softly on the door of Logan’s bedroom, but there’s no answer.
I have a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, at odds over what to do. Go back to my room and forget this whole thing or take a chance and hope it ends up okay?
The doorknob twists in my hand and the hinges squeak as I inch the door open, finding an empty bed. That’s when I hear water running.
This is my chance. He never has to know I was here. Go back now before I get hurt.
I shake off the negative thoughts and think about the look on Logan’s face coming out of the chapel. He’s right. There is something between us and I’ve denied the pull too long.
I walk through the bedroom to the giant master bath with a soaking tub, two-person shower, and two vanity sinks. This is probably where Logan hoped we’d stay together, but I accepted his offer for the other bedroom.
The glass shower door is steamed over, so I can’t see him. My hand shakes as I wrap my fingers around the metal handle to pull the door open. I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath before slowly inching it open.
Logan startles then stares at me. He doesn’t have to ask me what I’m doing there. Our gazes lock and I step into the shower, joining him.
“Please… just don’t hurt me,” I whisper.
His arm wraps around my waist and he pulls me to him, under the stream of water, soaking my pajamas so they stick to me like a second skin. “I’ll protect your heart with my life.”
He bends down and presses the gentlest kiss to my mouth. I savor the softness of his lips compared to the rest of his hard body pressed to mine. My arms wind around his neck, all my worries fading when his tongue slides into my mouth.
I’m so upset that I don’t remember the first kiss we ever shared, but if it was as good as this one, then I know why I said, “I do.”
Urging me backward until my back hits the wet tiled wall, he breaks our kiss to stare at me. “Does this mean?”
I nod, answering his vague question. “I’m in.”
My favorite smile of his, the shy one, emerges and my heart flips and flops inside my chest with happiness.
“About damn time,” he mumbles, and his finger and thumb undo one of the buttons on my silk pajamas. He groans at seeing the crevice between my breasts.
Another button comes undone. I watch his masterful fingers unclothe me, finally pulling the wet fabric from my skin and leaving me bare from the waist up. His right hand molds to my breast and his lips descend on mine again, his tongue sliding against mine instantly. I knew he’d be a great kisser. Patient but persistent at the same time. His hard length rubs against my stomach, and I take him in my palm.
“God, you feel good,” he says, bucking slowly into my hand while I pump him up and down.
Our tongues fight for dominance. His hand squeezes my breast, his thumb running over my already pebbled nipple. I want him so badly, I find it hard to control myself. My leg wants to rise over his hip so he can slide himself between my legs.
As if he can read my mind, he stops kissing me and sinks to his knees on the shower floor, simultaneously pulling my pajama shorts down my legs. I fight the embarrassment of being completely naked in front of him as he looks up at me with devilish eyes. His hands slowly urge my legs apart and he swings one over his shoulder, his finger running along the length of my core.
My hands fall to his hair, my fingers threading through his blond strands. He replaces his finger with his tongue, licking his way up to my clit before toying with it with the tip of his tongue.
My head falls back to the tile. I have no words to describe how good his mouth feels on me. Why did I wait this long? He’s masterful in his movements, shifting from gentle to building more pressure over and over again. His tongue and fingers move in tandem until my orgasm sits right on the precipice. I’m so close, and I’m sure my sighs and panted praises clue him in that I’m about to come.
He doesn’t hold back. If anything, he stretches the rubber band further until I can’t hold back any longer. My body jolts when I come, tipping forward away from the tile wall, and every muscle fiber in my body tenses before they go limp.
“Holy shit,” I murmur.
Logan smiles at me from between my legs and I take a mental snapshot of this moment, determined to remember it always.
His shoulder digs into my stomach as he throws me over his shoulder. “I’m not even close to being done with you yet.” He turns off the water then steps out of the shower and walks us into his bedroom, where he deposits me on the bed.
“We’ll get it all wet,” I say.
“Exactly.” He winks and climbs on me, situating his hard length between my legs.
My body buzzes with anticipation, and I push away all my worries and fears so I can enjoy a night I’ll never forget. Not this time.
Chapter Twenty
“I gotta ask you a question and I want you to be upfront with me.”
Logan
I really hope I didn’t fall in the shower, hit my head, and this is all a dream. Crawling up the bed, careful not to put all my weight on Nikki, this feels like a dream come true. Especially since I’ve had to relive the memory of having her pressed to the glass in the hotel suite.
She winds her arms around my neck, her fingers fiddling with my wet hair, bringing me down so our lips meet. Her body is so soft and silky, it’s a struggle not to just slip inside her.
“Let me get a condom,” I murmur, breaking off the kiss, not wanting to get off her.
I reach into the nightstand where I put them since I’ve hoped she’d come into my bedroom at some point.