Chapter eight Tessa
Chapter eight
Tessa
Logan’s tongue is hot against my nipple as he sucks it into his mouth, his other hand palming my breast while his fingers twist and flick.
The contrasting sensations—sharp twinges of a deliciously subtle pain on one nipple and gentle soothing heat on the other—are unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
He’s playing my body like a familiar instrument, one he’s spent countless hours mastering.
I want to ask him for more, but voicing my desires feels foreign.
As if sensing the words on the tip of my tongue, he pulls back with a pop.
I moan as heat floods my core. Green eyes flick between mine, and for a moment, I wonder what’s running through his mind.
Has he changed his mind about this? Then his arms are suddenly around my waist as he stands, lifting me from the couch.
His name falls from my lips on an embarrassing squeal, my legs wrapping around his waist in an effort to stay upright.
A gentle laugh bursts free from his chest, his arms tightening around me. “Don’t worry, darlin’, I won’t drop you. Just need you in my bed if I’m going to devour you properly.” His voice is a deep rumble, like thunder as it rolls in across a dark sky.
Okay, so this is really happening. It’s no big deal. People do this kind of thing all the time. I can do this. I want to do this.
There’s not a hint of doubt or hesitation coursing through my veins as he effortlessly carries me to his bedroom.
The way he’s holding me gives me easy access to his neck, and I can’t resist taking advantage of the position.
Leaning in, I press a kiss to the base of his throat, smiling to myself at the way his body shudders as he bites back a curse.
He throws me down onto his bed, and my hair fans out around me as I gaze up at him. Dark eyes dance over my body as his hands move to his belt. He undoes it quickly, and I fight back a moan at the way the leather makes a shick sound as he pulls it free.
I sit up on my forearms, watching his hand move to the front of his jeans. He has them undone and discarded a moment later, and my mouth waters at the sight of his straining erection against the dark fabric of his briefs.
A chuckle escapes him as he leans over me, his hands pressing into the mattress on either side of me. “Still want this?” he asks, running his fingertips across one hip as his mouth brushes mine.
The fact that he cares enough to check in with me, to put my own needs and comfort above his desire, has my heart squeezing in my chest. I whimper as my body shudders, sinking into his touch.
I feel ridiculous for being so on edge over the lightest touch, but I can’t help it.
Every brush of his skin on mine sets my body on fire.
Every heated gaze fans the flames. And all I want to do is burn.
“Yes,” I say softly, pushing every bit of confidence I can muster into the single syllable. Wanting to show him that I’m 100 percent on board, I lie back and lift my hips as I push my skirt down. Logan’s quick to take over, dragging it off my legs and tossing it to the ground.
Heat crawls over my cheeks as his eyes dip to my panty-clad pussy.
They’re the same boring nude tone as my bra, but in my defense, I didn’t plan on anyone seeing them.
If I’d had any idea that my night would end up here, I would’ve at least worn a thong or maybe a cute pair of cheeky panties.
But of course, the first time I’m going to have sex with someone in god knows how long, I’m wearing a somewhat cuter pair of modest cotton panties.
Bikini style and trimmed with lace, but still nowhere near sexy.
My stomach is soft, my thick hips and thighs are decorated with faded stretch marks, and even though I’m only thirty-one, my breasts aren’t nearly as perky as they used to be. Side effects of pregnancy and breastfeeding for nearly two years, I guess.
“I’m sorry I’m not wearing something a little more—”
“You’re beautiful,” he says, cutting off my self-conscious stream of thoughts. He places a gentle kiss just below my navel, and a shiver courses through me as he kisses across my abdomen. His fingers curl into the hem of my panties, and his eyes lift to mine before he yanks them off.
I gasp when the heat of his mouth brushes over my clit, my hips lifting to chase the sensation.
“Please,” I beg, ignoring the twinge of embarrassment that swirls in my stomach.
His tongue flicks the sensitive bud before he seals his lips around it, and I moan as my eyes roll back.
Lifting a hand to the back of his head, my fingers tangle in his hair as I hold him to my core, grinding my pussy against his mouth.
He licks along my lips before his tongue dips inside of me, a moan emanating from his chest.
“Need you,” I breathe, tightening my hold on him.
He pulls back and replaces his mouth with his hand, slowly sliding two fingers into me as he watches. Dark green eyes trace my face, cataloging every expression before he leans over me and presses his lips to mine.
He tastes like me.
It sends a fresh wave of heat through my body, and I slip my hand beneath the waistband of his briefs to wrap my fingers around his cock.
A deep groan escapes him before he murmurs, “Condom,” and then slides off the bed.
Logan's gaze holds mine as he removes his boxer briefs.
His thumb teases across the tip of his cock, moving in a slow, tight circle to spread his pre-cum before giving his cock a few pumps.
He breaks eye contact just long enough to retrieve a condom from the nightstand.
I watch as he uses his teeth to tear open the foil packet and quickly rolls the condom on, all while his focus remains on me.
“Last chance to back out, darlin’. Are you sure about this?” he asks, walking back to the foot of the bed.
The question sits heavily between us, my eyes flicking between his. I appreciate that he’s giving me an out, but I don’t need it.
I want him.
I want this.
I want to wake up tomorrow morning feeling deliciously sore between my legs as a reminder of what we’ve done.
What I’ve done. I don’t know when I’ll get another chance to be free like this, and it’s not something I’m going to turn away from.
Even if we never speak again, never see each other after this, the memory of an amazing night spent with a man who made me feel more alive than I’ve felt in a long time will forever live in my mind.
Soft blue light filters through the blinds when I peel my eyes open, blinking as they adjust to the dim lighting.
I jolt upright. Cool air brushes against my breasts, and I pull the sheet up to cover my chest. My heart pounds as I look around the room, my gaze dropping to the sleeping man beside me.
He’s on his stomach with his arm beneath his pillow, head turned to the side.
The dark sheet is slung across his lower back and tangled slightly between his legs.
His light brown hair is a mess from the number of times I ran my fingers through the length last night.
Seeing him like this, asleep and completely at peace, his back rising and falling with deep, restful breaths, has my heart kicking in my chest.
Logan.
I don’t remember falling asleep last night.
Clearly, the three orgasms he wrung from my body wore me out a lot more than I anticipated.
My limbs felt laden with jelly by the time I begged him to stop, laughing in protest that I couldn’t possibly handle another release.
He only smiled, kissed me, and said he wanted to be sure I was taken care of.
I’ve heard Liv and Tilly swear on multiple occasions that the men in this town are nothing but selfish idiots.
They obviously haven’t met this man. He was far from selfish.
If I had to choose a few words to describe him, “selfish” wouldn’t even come close to making the list. At least, not if I went solely based on the version of him I met last night.
Still, I can’t believe I felt comfortable enough to fall asleep with him.
We didn’t talk much afterward. We tried, but both of us were too tired to carry on a conversation.
And now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure I remember him saying it wasn’t safe for me to drive while tired.
I offered to sleep on his couch, but he insisted I stay in his bed.
Something about wanting my scent on the sheets.
Doesn’t mean I need to be here when he wakes up, though.
Especially not if he doesn’t want this to be more than what we already shared.
I knew what the expectation was when I agreed to come home with him.
Neither of us mentioned it being more than one night of shared bliss.
Pulling in a steadying breath, I slowly move the sheets off my body and slip out of bed to gather my clothing.
I hastily throw everything back on, thankful I managed to fall asleep with my panties on at least. My pulse is still thundering in my veins by the time I’m climbing into the driver’s seat of my SUV, and I fight back the desire to look myself over in the rearview mirror.
I’m sure mascara is smudged beneath my eyes, and my hair likely looks like a rat’s nest.
But it’s my own reflection that I’m avoiding, worried I’ll look different somehow.
Some small part of me was brought back to life last night, like a puzzle piece that’s been missing for years.
What if I look in that small mirror and the entire picture has changed?
What if I no longer see the woman who used to be Ryan’s wife, but instead just see… Tessa?