Seven of Hearts

2. Leah

2

LEAH

M y dress fluttered behind me as we ran through the hotel lobby, laughing and heading straight for the elevator. I pressed my palm to the top of my dress to keep the soaked fabric from sliding against my skin. Thanks to the padding in the bust, I didn’t need to wear a bra. The downside was that the waterlogged dress felt gross.

We dashed into the elevator. It took Logan a few tries to get the third-floor button to light up. The doors closed, and the elevator car lurched up. I stumbled at the sudden jolt and tipped into him, letting out a squeal.

The happy buzz of liquor danced along my skin. I wasn’t drunk—just blissfully light.

“Careful,” Logan said, his eyes lowering to me as he slid his hands around my waist to steady me.

God, that felt so good.

It was unfair, really. Logan had only gotten better with age, growing out of the broody teenage heartthrob I used to know, and becoming a stunning specimen of a man.

His dark hair was artfully messy after a long day of wedding festivities. Stubble covered his jaw, although he had been clean-shaven that morning.

I wonder what that stubble would feel like between my . . .

Logan’s hands tightened on my ribs, his thumbs grazing my breasts. “You all right? Do I need to get you some solid food?”

It had been quite a while since dinner...And even then, I hadn’t eaten all that much because I was making sure Kylie had everything she needed.

I hiccupped.

A boyish smirk curved up the side of his mouth. “Yeah, you need something to eat.”

“Pretty sure everything is closed,” I said as the elevator came to a stop. I braced for the lurch, but it never came because Logan’s hands never left me. “You’re not in the city anymore. This is Beaufort.”

Logan slid his hand onto the small of my back, guiding me down the hall. “That’s the beauty of room service.”

I leaned to the left as we stopped at Room 328, tipping into his shoulder. “I don’t wanna take up your night. You’re probably tired.”

The door clicked open, and he turned on the lights. “The hair dryer’s in the bathroom,” he said.

The Taylor Creek Inn was tastefully decadent. Sleek countertops and thoughtful touches, like fresh flowers and artfully folded linens, decorated the room. One of the welcome bags I had helped Kylie put together was sitting on the TV stand. It didn’t look like Logan had unpacked at all.

I slipped into the bathroom and reached behind my back, but couldn’t grab the zipper. My muscles strained as I reached a little farther.

Almost . . . just a little . . .

Ha! I arched my back and yanked the zipper down. The hem of my dress snagged under my high heel and pulled tight. I lifted my foot to free the heel from the fabric, but it pulled more, yanking me back. Everything spun as I teetered backward. I let out a shriek as my butt slammed into the slick tile floor.

“Leah!” Logan bolted inside with a look of panic on his face. “Shit. Are you hurt?”

I let out a groan. “My butt’s gonna be bruised.”

“C’mere,” he murmured as he reached to help me up. His hand threaded into my hair. “Watch your head with the counter.”

The tiled floor was blissfully cool, especially because I had been sweating for most of the day.

Cold air danced across my chest as I scrambled away from the sink. “The AC feels so good,” I said.

Logan’s grip tightened. “Leah.”

“Huh?” I said as I looked around for the hair dryer.

“Your tits are out.”

I met his eyes and blinked. “What?”

Slowly, brooding brown eyes left mine and lowered. “Your...”

I looked down, finding not one, but two nipples on full display. Stupid zipper...

“S-sorry,” I stammered. “I just—the zipper—I couldn’t reach it—and?—”

He let out a heavy breath as his fingers flexed around my biceps. “Fuck...”

The profanity sounded reverent.

Thanks to the liquor, the full realization was delayed. “Oh my God. My tits are out. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he blurted out.

I stared at him as he stared back. A rush of pent-up adolescent feelings came roaring in all at once. I had always wanted Logan, but he had never wanted me. Never even looked at me. But now he was. And I didn’t want him to look away.

I wanted him. Badly.

“I think I should probably—you know—dry off.”

“Right," he agreed, though his eyes never left me.

“Best man coming in to save the day,” I said right before my dress fell to my feet. “Shit.”

Logan let out a heavy breath as he took me in. “Goddamn.”

I scrambled to pick up my dress to cover myself, but I only managed to tangle my heels in the fabric with each attempt.

I slipped again, and Logan swore. Arms banded around my waist as he caught me against his chest. “Has anyone told you that you’re clumsy enough to be a danger to yourself and others?”

“A time or two.”

Before I could make sense of what was happening, Logan was lifting me and setting me on the countertop beside the sink. He had already shucked off his tuxedo jacket, but he stepped back to look at me as he unbuttoned his dress shirt.

“Here,” he said as he took it off and draped it around my shoulders like a cape. His hands lingered, smoothing down my arms to my hips.

He wanted to cover me up after eye-fucking me on the bathroom floor? What kind of mind game was that?

“What?” I asked. “Everyone has nipples. It shouldn’t be that shocking.”

Logan’s eyes flicked to me, then to my chest as he picked up my dress and reached for the hair dryer. “Not everyone has yours.”

My head spun at the comment. I blinked, trying to regain my bearings. “Seventeen-year-old me would have died on the spot if she knew one day you’d say that.”

The admission made him grin. A full ear-to-ear smile had always been rare for him. But he gave it to me. And that felt special.

“Then maybe let’s keep that secret between us and not loop my sister in.”

I studied his bare chest. He had always been tall, even as a teenager. But now he was grown. Filled out. Straps of muscle wrapped around his arms and shoulders, stretching down his chest and abs.

“I should probably be embarrassed, but I think I stopped caring during drink number three.”

He fiddled with the hair dryer, but never made a move to plug it in. “Oh yeah?”

I looked down, cupped my boobs in my hands, and pushed them together. “You’re right. I do have fantastic tits.”

Logan shifted, dropping the hair dryer so that he could adjust the front of his slacks. “You’re gonna fucking kill me. You know that, right?”

The fall onto the bathroom floor had sobered me up, but the blissful haze was back. Or maybe that was lust.

I dropped my gaze to his fly as his shirt slid off my shoulders and draped in the crook of my elbows. “Dying with a hard-on would be unfortunate...”

Logan gripped the edge of the countertop, his knuckles bleaching under the pressure. “We were reminiscing down at the bar...”

“Yeah?”

“So tell me something,” he said as he moved to stand in front of me and slid his hands up my bare legs. “What else did seventeen-year-old you want me to say?”

I tipped my knees open, inviting him to stand between my legs. His hands wrapped around my thighs, spreading them a little farther apart.

My heart pounded wildly as I raked my eyes over his chest. Was his beating just as hard?

I couldn’t possibly tell him all the adolescent fantasies I used to have that revolved around him. It was so cliche—lusting after my best friend’s brother.

But those fantasies weren’t exactly in the past either . . .

I rolled my lips together as he eased forward, sliding his hands up and underneath the fabric of the shirt he had put around me.

“I’m good at keeping secrets,” Logan soothed. “What happens at the wedding stays at the wedding. I’ll be gone on Tuesday.”

Those hands glided over my waist to my ribs. Then, they were grazing the sides of my breasts.

“Tell me all your fantasies,” he coaxed in a soft, hoarse rasp.

Sparks danced across my skin, making my fingertips blaze electric. I needed to touch him. I needed him to ground me; to complete that connection.

I tipped my chin up, leaving only a breath between us as our lips grazed. “They were all you.”

Logan knocked the breath out of my lungs with the kiss. It was desperate and wanton. He grappled for purchase, yanking me to the edge of the counter until we were chest to chest. He tangled his fingers in the back of my hair and yanked my head back. “Open up for me.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. His tongue was warm and slow as it slid against mine. I whimpered into his mouth as I arched my back, pressing closer and closer until he grabbed my thighs and wrapped my legs around his hips.

“Bed,” I whispered in panted desperation when we broke for air.

Logan shook his head. “You had a lot to drink.”

The single pass of his thumb across my tightened nipple had me aching for more.

“You drank as much as I did,” I whined as he rolled my nipple between his fingers. My legs tightened and my toes curled. “Do you have a condom?”

Logan’s eyes darkened. “Yes.”

His shirt dropped from my shoulders. “Then tell me about your fantasies. Or is this one-sided?”

He swallowed, taking me in. “It’s not one-sided.”

I hooked my fingers inside the front waistband of his trousers. “Then one night...For all the fantasies that we never indulged in. I solemnly swear that I’m consenting.” My lips curved into a smile against his. “And Kylie never has to know.”

“You sure?”

I reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, opened the voice note app, and tapped the record button. “Hi, Logan. This is Leah Holloway, politely requesting to be fucked into oblivion at your earliest convenience.” I squealed in surprise as he yanked me off the counter and carried me into the bedroom. “Also, thank you for complimenting my tits.”

I laughed as I was unceremoniously tossed onto the bed. Logan’s phone fell from my hand as I bounced on the mattress. He took a step back, studying me as he slowly shucked off his trousers. Black boxers were painted across his ass and thighs.

“Tell me something,” he said as he grabbed his wallet and pulled out a condom. “How does this compare to your fantasy?”

I arched my back, pushing my breasts toward him. “You haven’t done anything spectacular, but the sight is incredible.”

He cracked another one of those rare smiles. “Is that a challenge?”

“I don’t give out participation ribbons.”

Logan chuckled as he moved between my thighs and rid me of my thong. “Then open your legs and let me earn it.”

He cupped my sex as he shifted one knee between my legs and the other outside of my hip. “Already wet for me? I think that’s a point in my favor.”

“You’re welcome.”

He arched an eyebrow and pressed two fingers against my pussy, scissoring them to open my entrance. “You’re a lot mouthier than you were earlier. You barely talked to me this morning.”

“Whiskey makes me sassy.”

“I like your sass,” he said as he slid two fingers inside me and crooked them, stroking my walls until he found the spot he was looking for.

I squeezed my eyes shut and fisted the sheets as he methodically tested and teased me. He pressed the heel of his palm to my clit, forcing me to ride his hand. I gasped, but it quickly melted into a whimper, then a plea.

“Make that sound for me again,” he growled. “That was the prettiest fucking sound I’ve ever heard.”

“Make me.”

In the blink of an eye, Logan grabbed the back of my thighs and threw them over his shoulders. He held my ass, suspended over the sheets, and offered one long lick up my slit.

I cried out as he teased my clit with the flat of his tongue. The soft grunts and growls that slipped out of his mouth were the most erotic sounds I’d ever heard.

“Atta girl,” he muttered as he skimmed his teeth across my clit and slid his fingers inside. “Pretty sounds. Pretty pussy. Pretty tits. You’re a fucking dream, Leah.”

“Logan—”

He bit down on my clit, making me scream. I could feel the throbbing nerves ricocheting through my body like a gong.

“Scream my name,” he muttered against my sex. “Let me hear it.”

I couldn’t get it out. Not with the lightning dancing across my skin. I could barely breathe. I was panting, writhing, and begging in incoherent sentences for him to make me come.

“Jesus,” he hissed against my pussy. “Hearing you breathe makes me hard as a fucking rock.”

“Logan,” I begged. “Please let me come.”

I caught his devilish smirk as he sucked on my clit. “Who am I to deny a decade-old fantasy? Besides, you asked so nicely.”

I didn’t even have time to think of a retort. His fingers inside my pussy detonated my orgasm.

Before I had even crashed from the high, he was rolling on the condom from his wallet, flipping me onto my hands and knees, and yanking my hips up.

“Hold on to the fucking headboard.”

I barely had time to get a grip before he was pushing inside me. Air leached from my lungs as he stretched and filled me. Admittedly, it had been a while.

“Relax for me, Leah,” he murmured against my shoulder blade. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m relaxed,” I lied.

He caught the bullshit immediately. “No, you’re not. Breathe for me. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

I sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a slow exhale.

“There you go,” he soothed.

“Sorry,” I said in a choked breath. “It’s been a while for me...”

“For me too,” he admitted as he gently smoothed his hand up and down my back. “We can take our time or stop it altogether."

I shook my head and began to relax.

“There you go,” he soothed. “That’s my girl. I feel you letting me in.” Slowly, he began to move, teasing me with short pulls and thrusts. “You feel so fucking good.” An animalistic grunt rolled from his chest. “Goddamn, Leah...”

The way he prayed my name made me want to please him. I arched my back, pushing my ass up against him. Logan swore and dug his hands into my hips, picking up his pace.

My fingers slipped from the headboard. I tipped forward and grabbed a pillow, hugging it as he fucked me faster and faster. The soft cotton muffled my cries of bliss.

Logan paused, holding deep inside me, as he reached between my legs and played with my clit. “You’re a fucking dream. You know that? Every little thing about you.”

I rested my cheek on the pillow. “I could say the same about you.”

“I feel you getting close. You’re so fucking tight around my cock. You fit like a damn glove.”

“Make me come again,” I begged.

He slammed into me. “Yes, ma’am.”

The bed creaked and the headboard slammed with each thrust. His breathing grew more and more erratic as he neared his own peak.

“Logan—”

“Almost . . . there . . .” He let out a grunt. “Keep my name on those perfect lips.”

“Logan, please—” I cried. “Please?—”

We shattered together, hitting our mark and then exploding into infinitesimal pieces. The blissful post-orgasm delirium hit me instantly. Or maybe that was the exhaustion of the day.

Logan’s breathing was ragged as his dick flexed and pulsed. He stayed buried inside me as we caught our breath. His chest was warm and sticky with sweat, but the gentle pressure of it against my back was calming.

“How was that for a fantasy?” he murmured against the back of my neck before dotting my shoulder with a kiss.

I closed my eyes as a satisfied smile played on my lips. “I can go for round two if you still have those granola bars in your hotel welcome bag.”

He chuckled. “They’re in there, but that was my only condom.” His hand was soft against my skin as he gently caressed my hip. “This’ll have to be it.”

I peered through my lashes and caught him studying me with the same softness as his touch. “Then I should probably dry my dress and get going.”

The look that flashed across his face was almost regretful. “How was it? Did I live up to the fantasy?”

A laugh slipped free. “It was exactly what I needed.”