Chapter 26
26
LOGAN
I unlock the door and hold it open for Katrina. She slips inside, moving swiftly, her big eyes wide, her chest rising and falling with the quick cadence of her breath.
“What is this place?” she asks, glancing around as I do one last scan of the block to make sure we weren’t followed.
“Priscilla’s rental,” I say, shutting and locking the door behind us. “She’s in LA this week, but we’ve been using it as a practice space.”
“Ah,” Katrina hums. “Nice.”
I pass her by, stepping deeper inside. “Prissy?” I call out, my voice echoing through the empty house.
Katrina listens for a reply. “We alone?”
“It would appear so.” I catch the smile pulling at her lips. “Are you all right?”
“My heart’s still pounding a little,” she admits. “But I’m all right. You?”
I nod, my eyes dragging down the length of her corset. “Want me to loosen that for you?”
She inhales sharply as I step behind her. “Actually, yeah. If you don’t mind.”
I untangle a few of the laces in the back. “That better?”
She takes a slow, deliberate breath, the biggest one she’s probably taken in hours, and exhales. “Yes. Thank you.”
I stay close, letting my hands drift down the bare planes of her shoulders, feeling the warmth of her skin. She tilts her head at just the right angle—an invitation, if I wanted it.
Katrina swallows hard. “So, uh... does Priscilla have anything to drink around here?”
I let my fingers slide down the length of her arm, then take her hand. “Let’s go look.”
We move through the foyer, past the scattered living room furniture and the instruments still set up in the center of the room. Her heels click loudly on the kitchen tile, but as soon as we step inside, she kicks them off with a sigh.
“Finally,” she mutters to herself.
I chuckle and open the fridge. Not much inside. A couple of water bottles. An open ginger ale. And... that’s about it. I grab the two bottles of water, handing one to Katrina.
“Yes,” she says, accepting it. “Proper hydration.”
I watch her as she twists off the cap. As she brings the bottle to her lips. As she gulps it down.
As she realizes I’m staring.
“What?” she asks, wiping the excess moisture from her mouth.
“Nothing, just...” I hesitate, caught in the moment, giving myself one last goddamn second to come clean. But the second passes, and I smirk instead. “You look beautiful tonight.”
Katrina narrows her eyes playfully. “Earlier, you said I looked stunning.”
“Would beautiful be an upgrade or a downgrade from stunning?” I ask as I peel my jacket off and drop it on the counter.
“I don’t know,” she muses. “We should test them.”
She straightens, standing taller, her chest pushing forward in a way that makes it damn near impossible not to stare.
“Logan, you look stunning,” she says.
I grin.
“Logan, you look beautiful,” she continues.
Hell, I might even blush.
“Which one felt better to you?” she asks.
I don’t answer. Instead, I close the space between us, cupping her face in my hands as I kiss her. The way her lips part beneath mine soothes my soul, but the fire beneath it is still there, still burning, threatening to consume me from the inside out.
I want her so badly. But I know that… not having her will hurt less than losing her.
And I will lose her when the truth comes out.
I’ll lose myself.
“Logan?” Katrina whispers, her lips brushing mine, stoking the fire in my chest. “What’s your real name?”
I pull back. “What?”
Her brow arches. “Your last name isn’t really Shock.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“How do you know?” I tease.
“Because it’s way too cool to be real!”
I chuckle. “Thank you.”
“Seriously!” She tugs at my shirt. “Tell me this, then. Is your first name really Logan?”
I slide my fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her face. “Yes,” I say. “My first name is Logan.”
She accepts that; her smile warm, genuine.
“You tell me,” I say. “Is your name really Katrina Benton?”
She hesitates. Then, quietly... “No.”
I blink.
“Katrina is,” she clarifies. “But Benton was chosen. Knox and I chose it. After we left our family.”
My chest tightens. Hard. “It suits you,” I say softly.
“Thanks.”
I trace my thumb over her cheek, feeling the heat of her skin, the urge to hold her so strong it nearly swallows me whole.
Ah, hell.
She won’t believe me, anyway.
“Finkelstein.”
Katrina’s smile dips. “Bless you?”
“No. Finkelstein. That’s my last name.”
“Fin—” Her face twists through a full range of emotions. “Finkelstein? Your real name is Logan Finkelstein ?”
“Yes.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it’s not! You’re joking.”
“Fine,” I say, running my fingers through her hair again. “Don’t believe me.”
“Show me your driver’s license,” she says.
“No.”
“Hey, the burden of proof is on you here.”
“The picture is awful. I won’t do it. And you’ll see my middle name, and I refuse to be that exposed.”
Katrina’s eyes light up.
I really shouldn’t have said that.
“Well, now I have to see it!” she says.
“No, you don’t. You have to hydrate.”
She raises the bottle to her lips. “Whatever you say, Finkelstein .”
“Oh, that’s what we’re doing now?”
“I guess...” Her lips twitch as she swallows a gulp of water and sets the bottle down on the counter. “Finkelstein.”
I hoist her up and over my shoulder before she can take another breath. She yelps, her laughter spilling around me as I carry her into the living room, her feet kicking playfully.
I drop her onto the couch, and she rolls onto her back, looking up at me, her body language pulling me down like gravity. She parts her thighs, cradling me between them as I brace my arms on either side of her.
I kiss her hard, wanting the moment to last, wanting to bottle her laughter and keep it forever. She exhales softly as I trail my lips down her neck, her fingers curling into the back of my shirt, pulling me closer. My cock throbs, heat coiling tight in my gut, and then?—
I feel her hands slide down my back.
I slam my palms over hers on my rear. “What are you doing?”
“Copping a feel,” she says innocently.
“And?” I arch a brow.
“And... looking for your wallet.”
I push back, laughing as she cackles beneath me. “Bad kitty.”
“I’m sorry!” she wheezes. “I just gotta know!”
I empty my pockets. A Plaza room key. A stack of yellow sticky notes. “Nice try,” I say. “Wallet’s in my jacket.”
She pouts. “Damn.”
I toss the items onto the coffee table and sink back down to punish her. With deep kisses; the kind that leave tender little bites on her bottom lip. I pin her hands above her head, holding her down with a glare that’s more sinister than stern. Her cheeks flush a soft pink.
“Good kitty,” I whisper, unable to stay serious for long.
She’s just so fucking stunning .
Her eyes. Her little nose. The rosy glow on her cheeks.
The adorable cat ears on her head.
That fucking corset.
I push a knee between her thighs, sliding it all the way until it settles against her. “Grind it,” I say.
Katrina hesitates, unsure, until she begins to move. Her hips start slowly, but the moment pleasure glows in her eyes, she lets herself go, grinding gently against me. I fix my knee in place, holding her, not wanting to take even an ounce of that pleasure away from her. She moves faster, harder, her breath catching in little gasps.
“Logan,” she whispers.
I claim the name, locking our lips together as she moans. I press in, my knee harder against her as she rides it, rubbing herself against me, chasing her climax.
“Logan,” she gasps, her breath shallow, her body trembling with raw need. “I?—”
I trail my tongue down her neck, from her earlobe to her collarbone. “Come, kitty kitty,” I urge, growling.
It doesn’t take long. Her gasps sharpen, her movements becoming jagged, almost frantic. When she throws her head back, moaning into the ceiling, I suck lightly at her neck, letting her ride out the orgasm for as long as she wants.
“How many times you gonna make me come tonight before you let me touch you?” she asks, her voice soft and seductive.
I kiss her, worshipping her. “I ain’t keeping score, kitty,” I say.
I release her wrists, letting her hands fall to her sides. She immediately places them on my waist, her warm fingers slipping under my shirt to touch my skin, her lips grazing mine in a soft, breathless kiss that calms the fire inside me.
Katrina chuckles. “What are you working on?”
I hum a laugh mid-suck, pulling at a fleshy spot on her neck I know will leave a mark in the morning. “Well, I thought about leaving you a hickey right... here...”
“No.” She points at the table pushed aside, yellow sticky notes scattered across it. “The notes,” she says, getting my attention. “Are you working on new stuff?”
“I am.”
“Is it for the Battle?”
I pause, wondering how much I should reveal. But then the truth hits me hard, and I know I have to say it.
“No,” I say. “It’s for me.”
“Will you play it for me?”
“I’m not sure I should.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s about you.”
Katrina’s smile lingers on her kiss-plump lips, her eyes still gleaming with the remnants of her pleasure. “Will you play it for me?” she asks again.
My stomach tightens, nerves crawling under my skin. But the moment she leans in to kiss me again, that unease evaporates.
I silently rise from the couch, grab my acoustic from its stand, and sit back down.
“It’s not finished,” I warn, settling on the couch.
Katrina doesn’t respond. She just sits up, one foot dropping to the floor as she gets comfortable, waiting.
I glance over my yellow notes one last time before closing my eyes.
And I play.
A simple melody. Not quite like The Electrics. Not even Criminal Records. It’s something new, bold—a raw, untamed thing that poured out of me in the middle of the night and should never be shared.
“You move like a song, I’ve always known,
A melody stitched deep in my bones.
Every word of you hums in my veins,
Here I am, lost in your name.”
I open my eyes slowly, glimpsing Katrina sitting beside me. Her face is blank, her breath slowing as she listens.
I stare into her and keep playing.
“You laugh, but you guard the door,
Like you’re scared to want something more.
I swore I’d never again lose my way,
But here I am, lost in your name.”
Katrina doesn’t blink, doesn’t move, as if she’s absorbed into every note.
I close my eyes again.
“I don’t need to write you down,
You’re carved into my skin somehow.
Every line, every note, every breath I take
Leads me back to your name.”
I strum a few more notes before stopping; the sound lingering briefly in the silence that follows.
I take a moment to calm myself before I open my eyes again. “A work-in-progress,” I say. “Maybe a little too high school, honestly, but...”
Katrina shakes her head. “It’s beautiful, Logan.”
“Beautiful?”
“Stunning,” she corrects, her smile like sunlight.
“So are you.”
Katrina reaches for the stack of sticky notes on the table, picking up a pen.
“You have a note?” I ask.
“Just one,” she says, scribbling something down.
“Okay.” I brace myself, my heart picking up pace. “Lay it on me, kitty.”
Katrina peels the note off and sticks it to her chest.
TAKE ME
My heart clenches, a wave of panic hitting me hard. I stare at her—this angel beside me—and I can’t move. I can hardly breathe. The words on the note blur in my head, making no sense.
“Logan,” she whispers, her confidence fading a little as she watches me. “What is it?”
I force myself to look away. “You don’t want that,” I say, setting my guitar aside.
“Yes, I do.” Her fingers brush over my hand on my knee, grounding me, but just barely. “Logan?”
“Why?” I ask, the word sharp. “You were saving yourself for?—”
“A man who loved me.” She lifts my hand to her lips and smiles. “Unless I’ve radically misjudged you. You care about me.”
It’s not a question, but god, it should be. Do I care about Katrina Benton? Of course I do. From the moment I saw her on screen, just pixels trapped behind glass, I was drawn to her. And the first time I saw her in the flesh… she was branded into my soul.
That’s why I shouldn’t do this.
She’ll never forgive me.
Her lips brush over my knuckle. The heat of her rushes up my arm, curls through my chest. When she kisses them softly, it burns. When she leans in closer, it’s almost unbearable. Her lips touch mine, and it’s an inferno.
My cock strains against my jeans. My pulse pounds in my ears, drowning out every thought, every ounce of logic. Her kiss is an unraveling force, soothing and destroying all at once.
The moment her tongue touches mine, I’m lost.
Hell, I never even had a choice.