Chapter Fifteen Grace
Chapter Fifteen
Grace
The sun is warm on my skin, the sand soft beneath my fingers as I sit alone on the beach. I let the grains slip through my hands, watching as the wind carries them away. It’s peaceful here, quiet. A few kids are playing with their mom in the distance, their laughter faint but comforting. This part of the beach, the place where Logan and I shared that first picnic, is secluded. It’s like the rest of the world has melted away, leaving me with nothing but my thoughts and the steady sound of the waves.
I miss him. God, I miss him.
I close my eyes, the thought swirling around in my head, making it impossible to focus on anything else. The space between us feels insurmountable, like a gap that can’t be bridged. I know it’s not entirely his fault, but this… this mess we’ve gotten ourselves into—it’s not what I signed up for. The fake relationship was supposed to be easy, just a way to keep things simple and to have Logan close for a few weeks. But somewhere along the way, things changed. My feelings changed.
The truth is, I love him. That’s the most painful part of it all. Because no matter what I feel, I’m starting to realize that Logan doesn’t see me the same way. I’m just a pawn in this game, a piece in the plan to keep up appearances. I never meant for it to become so complicated, but now it’s too late to take it back.
I hear footsteps in the sand behind me, and my stomach sinks. Before I even turn around, I know who it is. Logan.
I stand up quickly, brushing the sand from my hands, instinctively wanting to leave before he gets any closer. I don’t want to do this right now. I don’t want to hear whatever half-hearted explanation or apology he’s going to give.
Logan catches up to me, his voice breathless. “Grace, wait. Please.”
I stop, turning to face him, crossing my arms protectively over my chest. “What do you want, Logan?”
His eyes search mine, his expression a mix of worry and frustration. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you all day.”
“It’s none of your business where I’ve been,” I snap, the anger bubbling to the surface before I can stop it. I try to walk past him, but he steps in front of me, blocking my path.
“It is my business,” he says, his voice tight. “I’ve been worried sick.”
“Good,” I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them. “After everything you’ve put me through, you should be worried.”
Logan flinches, the hurt flashing in his eyes, but I don’t back down. I’m tired of holding back, tired of pretending like I don’t care. “You dragged me into this fake relationship, made me part of your stupid plan, and now look where we are. I’m stuck in the middle of your mess with Samantha, and I—” My voice cracks, but I push through, refusing to let the tears fall. “I didn’t sign up for this.”
Logan looks at me, his expression softening as he takes a step closer. “Grace, I never meant for it to get this complicated. I just—”
“No,” I interrupt, shaking my head. “You didn’t think. You never thought about how this would affect me.”
“I’m trying to fix it,” he says, his voice filled with desperation. “I don’t want to lose you.”
I bite my lip, torn between wanting to believe him and knowing that trusting him could lead to more heartbreak. “I don’t even know if this can be fixed,” I admit softly, my voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.
Logan reaches out, his hand hovering near mine. “Let me try. Please, Grace.”
After everything, how am I supposed to trust him? How am I supposed to believe that Samantha won’t just sweep in and ruin things all over again?
Logan steps closer, his eyes dark with intensity. “Grace, I never wanted this to happen. I didn’t want you caught in the middle of all of it—Samantha, the lies—it wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
I feel my frustration boiling over. “It did happen, Logan! You didn’t think about me, about how any of this would affect me. You were so wrapped up in your own problems, in saving face, that you didn’t care what you were dragging me into.”
His expression tightens, guilt flickering in his eyes. “I know, and I’m sorry, but we’re both complicit in this.”
“I know! I’m an idiot for going along with it.”
“No, you’re not.”
I scoff, shaking my head. “What am I to you, Logan? A distraction?”
His jaw clenches, and for a moment, he looks away, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “I—dammit, Grace, it’s more than that! You’re more than that! Don’t you see? I’m not playing games with you. I—” He stops himself, visibly struggling with the words, like he’s on the edge of something but not quite ready to say it.
Anger surges through me, mixing with something else—something dangerous and undeniable. My heart pounds as I stare at him, my body alive with a storm of emotions I can barely control. The way he’s looking at me, the frustration and desire in his eyes, the rawness in his voice—it sends a jolt of heat through me, making my skin prickle.
He’s standing so close now, and I can feel the tension radiating off him, the intensity of his presence almost too much to bear. My mind is screaming at me to walk away, to protect myself, but my body is betraying me. There’s this electric pull between us, a force I can’t fight. The anger and hurt only fuel it, making every nerve in my body hum with the need to close the space between us.
“I can’t keep doing this,” I manage to say, my voice shaky, but my body is leaning into him despite my words. “I can’t keep pretending like I don’t feel something for you when you’re using me.”
Logan’s eyes snap back to mine, and he steps even closer, so close I can feel the heat of him, the tension crackling in the air between us. “I’m not using you,” he growls, his voice low and rough. “This isn’t just a game to me, Grace. Maybe it started that way, but now—now it’s something else. Something I can’t ignore, no matter how hard I try.”
I feel my heart race, the desire surging through me even as my mind struggles to make sense of it all. I want to push him away, but at the same time, I want him closer. The way his voice has dropped, the roughness in his tone—it sends a thrill through me that I can’t ignore.
I hate that I want him so much. I hate that every argument, every heated exchange, only makes me want to touch him more, to feel his hands on me, to lose myself in the heat of the moment.
“You say that,” I whisper, my voice trembling with both anger and something darker, “but how do I know it’s real? How do I know this isn’t just another lie?”
Logan’s eyes blaze, his frustration finally boiling over. “Because I can’t fucking breathe without you, Grace. Every time I’m near you, it’s like—” He cuts himself off, his words hanging in the air like a challenge, and suddenly, I can’t stand it anymore.
Before I know what I’m doing, I grab him by the collar and crash my lips against his, my anger and desire spilling over in a kiss that’s fierce, desperate, and hungry. Logan doesn’t hesitate. His hands are on me in an instant, pulling me against him as he kisses me back with just as much heat, his mouth moving against mine in a way that makes my knees weak.
The kiss is like a release, all the tension between us exploding into something raw and wild. I press myself against him, feeling the hard planes of his body, the way his fingers dig into my waist as if he can’t get enough of me. My head is spinning, my pulse racing, and all I can think about is how much I want him—how much I’ve always wanted him.
Logan groans into the kiss, one of his hands tangling in my hair as the other slides down my back, gripping me tightly. He pushes me backward until my back hits the rough bark of a nearby tree, pinning me against it as his lips move hungrily over mine. The feel of the cool, solid trunk against my back only intensifies the heat between us, grounding me in the reality of what’s happening.
His mouth leaves mine, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck, and I let out a soft gasp as his hand slips beneath my blouse, the rough skin of his palm brushing against the sensitive skin of my stomach. My breath hitches, my body responding to his touch in ways I can’t control. Heat blooms low in my belly, and I arch into him, desperate for more.
“Logan,” I breathe, my voice shaky with need, but even as I say his name, a part of me knows we can’t go further.
We’re in public, on a beach where anyone could see us, and as much as I want him, we can’t lose control like this. I pull back slightly, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath.
“We can’t,” I whisper, my voice trembling, though I don’t want to stop. “Not here.”
Logan pauses, his hand still beneath my blouse, his breath hot against my skin. He’s staring at me, his eyes dark with desire, his chest rising and falling as he struggles to control himself. For a moment, I think he might ignore me, might push further, but then he takes a deep breath and steps back, his hand falling away from my skin.
“You’re right,” he says, his voice rough, his eyes still locked on mine.
Without another word, he takes my hand and pulls me along, leading me toward a more secluded part of the beach, hidden by trees and large rocks. My heart races, both from the thrill of what’s happening and the anticipation of what’s about to come.
We reach a spot tucked away from prying eyes, the waves crashing in the distance, the breeze brushing against my skin. The moment we’re out of sight, Logan turns to me, and before I can catch my breath, his mouth is on mine again—rough, urgent, but I don’t care. I want this. I want him.
His kiss is fierce, filled with all the pent-up frustration and desire between us, and I match it, kissing him back just as desperately. He presses me against a large rock, his hands gripping my waist as if he can’t get enough of me. My body responds instantly, heat pooling low in my belly as his fingers skim the edge of my blouse, his touch sending sparks through me.
Logan pulls back just long enough to tug his shirt over his head, revealing the hard muscles of his chest. My breath hitches as I run my hands over him, feeling the heat of his skin, the strength in his body. He watches me with hooded eyes, his jaw clenched, and I can feel the tension rolling off him in waves.
I want him closer, need to feel more of him. My fingers trace the lines of his abdomen, savoring the way his muscles flex beneath my touch. His skin is warm under my hands, and I feel a thrill at how much I want him—how much I need him right now.
Logan groans softly, the sound rough and raw, and before I know it, he’s kissing me again—harder this time, more demanding. I gasp into his mouth as he slips a hand down, his fingers skimming over my thigh and slipping beneath my skirt. My heart pounds in my chest, my whole body lighting up with the anticipation of his touch.
His fingers brush over me, teasing, and I bite my lip, my breath coming in shallow gasps as he explores the sensitive skin. I can’t think, can’t focus on anything but the way his hand moves, the way every nerve in my body seems to come alive at his touch.
"Logan," I whisper, the word a plea, but I’m not sure what I’m asking for. More, maybe. Or for him to slow down. The truth is, I don’t want him to stop.
He doesn’t respond with words—just action. His fingers slip further under my skirt, his touch growing more deliberate, more intimate. A soft moan escapes my lips as he finds the place where I’m most sensitive, his movements skillful and sure, sending waves of pleasure through me. My body arches against him, seeking more of the delicious friction he’s giving me.
“God, Grace,” Logan breathes against my ear, his voice thick with need. “I want you so damn much.”
I can’t speak, can’t think of anything beyond the feeling of his hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes, driving me closer to the edge. My nails dig into his shoulders, holding on to him as if he’s the only thing keeping me grounded. My breath comes in ragged gasps, my body trembling under his touch.
He lifts me effortlessly, guiding me onto his lap as he leans back against the rock, his hands never leaving my skin. I straddle him, my legs wrapped around his waist, and the feel of him beneath me is overwhelming. He’s rock hard already, digging into my thighs.
His hands slide up my back, pulling me closer, and I bury my face in his neck, pressing hot kisses against his skin as his fingers continue their work beneath my skirt.
We’re a tangled mess of limbs and breathless kisses, our bodies moving together in a rhythm that feels both wild and right. My hair is a disaster, falling loose around my face as I grip his shoulders, riding the waves of sensation he’s pulling from me.
The heat between us is undeniable, the tension that’s been simmering for so long finally reaching its breaking point. Every touch feels like it’s setting me on fire, but it’s more than just the physical connection. It’s the way Logan’s touch makes me feel seen, wanted in a way I’ve never been before. The way he’s looking at me right now, like I’m the only thing that matters.
I ride him hard and fast until I’m a gasping mess; my mind is blank, all I care about is how effortlessly his cock fills me.
I come within minutes, a muffled gasp as orgasm takes over. My nails leave deep scratches along his shoulders and back, and he groans, arching into me.
Hot come fills me; my walls clench again as I drop my head onto his shoulder, eyes squeezed closed as I desperately try not to shout.
Finally, as my breathing slows, I collapse against him, resting my head on his shoulder. His arms wrap around me, holding me close, his chest rising and falling beneath me as we both catch our breath.
My mind is a whirlwind, torn between what just happened and the confusion that lingers at the edge of my thoughts.