Chapter 19
Penelope
The market downtown is the perfect place to clear my mind. Best of all, it’s far from the eastside apartments where Carrie has done nothing but fuss over me for almost a week.
“Gracias, Lynda,” I say to the round-faced woman who hands me a bag full of fresh apples. I love when she’s here on Saturdays because she always tosses in a few extras.
“Denada, Penelope.”
My aches and pains have subsided, and my bruises are finally healing after being forced to relax by one bossy, yet elusive, Logan.
I haven’t been able to shake his promise that I’m his, or that in the depths of my soul, no matter how I try to fight it, I know it’s true.
But it’s more than just accepting my feelings for him. I don’t care how innocent he believes Silas is. When that man looked me in the eye and told me Logan had moved on and that I should do the same, it wasn’t a suggestion. It was a threat.
So where does that leave us?
I grab a flayed mango on a stick from a nearby cart, taking my time gathering food for the group home while catching up with some locals I’ve done various odd jobs for. Working with Logan has felt like a fever dream, but this is my normal. A slice of familiarity that allows me to be a provider and gives me a sense of accomplishment.
“Fancy finding you here when I specifically requested that you rest.”
I whip around to find the man himself, glowering with his hip perched on a table piled high with bananas. He’s handsome with his hair messier than usual, a teal polo that accents his eyes, and his hands relaxed in the front pockets of a pair of sand-colored shorts.
“As I’ve told Carrie countless times, I’m fine.” Giving him my back, I continue browsing.
It’s been days since we last saw each other—our only contact being via email, and mostly because I refused to not be involved with the upcoming fundraiser. Still, my palms start to sweat, remembering the way his hands felt on my battered body. How I found comfort in every careful caress.
Dirt and loose rocks crunch beneath his feet when he jogs close. “How are things between you and your hostile little sister?”
I take a bite of mango, mumbling through each chew, “We’ve been playing the avoidance game, keeping things painfully surface level. But I feel shitty for how her vacation has panned out.”
I’m grateful she’s agreed to help Dorthea and Ricardo while I’ve rested, but tensions are undeniably high, and I’m at a loss about how to approach her.
“Hey.” He grins when I turn my face up to his before wiping mango juice from my chin. “Any amount of time you two spend together is meaningful. She knows that.”
I shake my head. “You picked the wrong sister. She’s the smart, hardworking, successful one, and I love her to death, but I’m never going to be her. I guess sometimes I don’t feel like I’m enough.”
“You are enough,” he says with absolute certainty. “And I know pleasing your family is important to you, but you shouldn’t be ashamed of wanting something different for yourself.”
“Even if I don’t know what that something is? Even if I’ll never know?”
He nods, raising a hand and absently tracing the capped sleeve of my vibrant green dress. “Have you ever thought that maybe your purpose is to simply exist?”
“That’d be silly, don’t you think?” My gaze falls between our feet, but not for long.
“You show the world the beauty in small things. You can make a person’s entire day with that laughter of yours, and you’re so full of compassion. Few people have those gifts.” A soft smile rests on his lips when he lowers his hand. “You make people want to change for the better, Pen.”
I’m trying to hold on to my heart, fighting like hell to keep it safe, protected, and whole. But my grip weakens when he takes a fluffy peach flower from a barrel of free blooms and twirls it between his fingers before offering it to me.
He practically beams with victory when I take the stem, the sweet scent filling my nose as we resume walking.
“Thank you for saying that,” I murmur.
Casting him a sideways glance, I place a few avocados in my bag before digging in my dress pocket for a few bills to hand the cart owner. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“Came for the laughs.” His lips twitch adorably when he hooks a thumb toward the opposite end of the market strip.
I squint, barely able to make out a man in a palm tree costume, handing out flyers to people walking by. “No way he agreed to that.”
Declan jerks his head our way, flipping his middle finger up when he sees us laughing.
“We have to get the word out about the fundraiser somehow.” Logan shrugs. “Besides, it’s fun to torture him.”
We share a smile that tightens that ever-present cord between us, and for once, it’s nice to be at peace around each other. Enjoying his company, rather than running from it.
I place the flower in the bag on my shoulder before removing an apple. I’m given a look of sheer perplexity when I offer it to him.
“What? I can hear your stomach growling from here, and I’m not entirely convinced you don’t survive off coffee alone.”
Humor melts the confusion from his face as he accepts, and the generous mouthful he takes makes me salivate. “Satisfied?”
I give his arm a playful pinch. “Yes.”
An almost pushy breeze guides us forward, and after another crunching bite, Logan gestures to my bag. “Enlighten me as to why you’re gathering enough food to feed a small army?”
I’ve been hesitant to share my work at the home with him, mostly because it’s my secret space. It’s somewhere I can go where oddballs are welcome, and I can be unapologetically me. And maybe it’s knowing that, at one point, Logan and I shared that same connection, which eventually lowers my guard.
“Part of why I didn’t want to leave with Carrie is because I volunteer at a children’s group home in Seaside, and it’s my job to gather food weekly.” Our elbows brush as we walk, eliciting static-like ripples along my arm. “I met the owners, Dorthea and Ricardo, when I moved to Keerah, and one day with those kids was all it took.”
He chuckles. “You were sold, huh?”
“They’re the greatest joys in my life. Besides, it was almost impossible not to fall in love with the harbor.” I regard him curiously. “As I’m sure you know.”
“Guess it was only a matter of time before you ran into that old coot.” He grins to himself before stuffing his hand back in his pocket. “Ida lives in a condominium Summit developed in an area close to Seaside. It was one of our first properties when we moved the business out this way, and I escape there from time to time.”
“Escape?”
“My father doesn’t know. He wasn’t keen on that property to begin with, but when I met Ida, she instantly took to me. She started teaching me life skills other than financing and benchmarking, and I found myself unable to resist visiting her and her ostentatious friends. They accepted me as I was.”
I peer up through my lashes, finding unexpected understanding. “Being with them gives you somewhere to belong.”
“Yes, it does.”
“Look at us, two little liars, hiding who we really are,” I tease before stopping him with a hand on his arm. “It must be difficult not being with them more often.”
“No more difficult than being around kids less fortunate. Seeing their struggles, but unable to change their paths.”
My chest tightens. Does he know how difficult it was for me to watch him struggle, too?
“Caring for them is the one thing in my life that’s mine. It doesn’t matter to them what my name is or where I came from. It doesn’t matter what kind of connections my father has or how wealthy my family is. They’re just happy to have a friend to hold their hand in the dark.”
Logan searches my face, gliding those blues over my freckled cheeks. “I know how they feel.”
The sincerity of that comment sucker punches me as he casually scans the shelves behind me. Grabbing a bag of mixed spices and a handful of fresh herbs, he turns to find me staring. “Don’t look so surprised, sunshine. It’s been a long time, but surely, you haven’t forgotten your mothering over me.”
“I didn’t mother you. I befriended you.”
“You did too, and you still do.” He raises the mostly eaten apple with an arrogantly arching brow, then tosses it, followed by my mango, into a nearby trash bin.
When he turns back to me, I stare at the point just below his clavicle, raising unsteady fingers to the line of hard bumps beneath his shirt. Scars I’ve kissed, cried over, and wished I could erase. “Can you blame me?”
“No, I don’t suppose I can.” His expression softens when he flattens his hand over mine.
I feel his heart pounding wildly beneath my palm while mine races with it, beat for beat.
“I would’ve done anything to never see you hurt like that again,” I say, lost inside old memories.
“I don’t do it anymore.” His voice is so tight, he clears his throat. “Just so you know.”
I break, free-falling with my battered heart when I take his hand in mine, entwining our fingers together. “I should’ve been there. I would’ve helped you fight it.”
“You’re here now,” he says.
And when he tugs me closer, I give him a matching grin. “Are you done following me now?”
“Not by a long shot,” he says, mischief flirting with the corners of his eyes.
“Well, keep up, then. I’ve got a lot—”
My throat seizes around the rest of that thought as I yank Logan behind a wine cart.
“What the hell are you doing?”
With a finger to my lips, I jerk my head toward the other side of the cart and urge him into silence.
Following the line of my panicked stare, his body goes stock-still when he spots his dad talking on the phone.
“Eep,” I gasp when he wrenches us downward into a crouch.
A group of clucking chickens eye us curiously, inching closer to our feet with their pecking beaks.
“Shoo, tiny feathered demons.” When they bawk louder, Logan shoots me a stern look, and I wince. “Sorry.”
I place my head under his chin, peering around the cart and up at Silas, who’s absently sifting through wine bottles.
“What is he doing out here?” I whisper.
Logan’s mouth moves to my ear, tickling the hair at my temple. “I’m not sure. Looks like he just left a meeting with the way he’s dressed.”
A sleek gray suit, blood-red tie, and black leather shoes give Silas an air of power as he speaks. “I already told you not to worry, Reid. It’s going to be worth it. I’ll have an update on the newest development at the fundraiser next weekend. We can chat more then.”
I look at Logan curiously, feeling his uneven breaths at my back as we listen. “Who’s he talking to?”
“Nathan Reid. He’s a real estate investor with a lot of money, and he’s helped fund a few Elite Properties’ bigger developments in Tauntuma.” He appears distracted by his thoughts when he says, “I’ve never liked him.”
Logan gently nudges me, and I shuffle backward as Silas’s feet appear beside the cart. People around us are starting to stare now, and dirt sticks to my sweaty palms as we duck around the cart, trying to remain unseen.
“Sounds like they’re scheming…”
I half expect to be met with the same defensiveness from earlier this week, but he surprises me when he agrees, “It does.”
Silas pauses again, humming in response to something Reid says, and when I inch back, I bump into a wooden crate on the ground, jostling several wine bottles.
“Hey, what are you doing?” the vendor asks from across the area, where he was adjusting a display.
At his accusatory tone, my hands jolt off the box. “Oh, no, no. This isn’t what it looks like. I’m not…”
“Trying to steal from me, huh?” He points at me, shouting a garbled mix of rapid-fire Spanish as he marches toward us.
“Hold on a minute,” Silas says.
“Shit,” Logan groans, knowing we’re fucked.
It’s a split-second decision—stand our ground or run like hell. But I know Silas’s games, and if he finds us together, Logan will suffer one way or another.
And I’ll be damned if I let that happen.
I scan the area for an exit. Behind us, the market stretches for another half-mile, but there’s an alleyway that cuts between this sector and the main road. If we can make it there, we’re home free.
“Time to make a run for it.”
“He’ll see us,” he argues.
“Not if I’ve got anything to say about it.” I snatch up one of the fowl still plucking around our feet and it squawks obnoxiously.
“What the fuck are you going to do with that?”
I drop my bag. With one hand gripping the chicken’s legs, and the other on its chest, I nod in the direction of sweet freedom. “Just go. I’ll be right behind you.”
Reluctantly, Logan shifts to the balls of his feet before he takes off in a sprint.
“Say hello to my little friend.” Like an eight ball, I give it a quick shake, and the second Silas rounds the cart, I chuck it at him.
“Fuck!” His cell phone clatters to the ground as the chicken clings to his chest, wings flapping furiously.
Not wasting another second, I bolt.
I’m hot on Logan’s heels, narrowly avoiding the shoe the wine vendor chucks past my head.
“Did you throw a fucking chicken at him, Penelope?”
I bark a laugh as we race through a maze of stacked crates. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”
In the distance, we hear a male voice shout, “That way!”
I turn to find not one, but two armed officers tearing after us, with clouds of dust billowing up behind them.
“You may want to pick up the pace,” I singsong, thankful for the shade the canopy between the buildings provides.
Logan’s shock morphs into exasperation when he glances over his shoulder. “This is ludicrous. We did nothing wrong.”
“The Topican police are more the punishment now, questions later type,” I inform him.
His face twitches with humor when he drops back, positioning himself behind me before knocking over a tower of empty crates. “Then you’d better keep up.”
“Stop where you are, thieves,” one of them shouts.
They aren’t far behind as we weave our way through various vendors, ducking and dodging anyone who blocks our path. Clothing and other knick-knacks hanging above our heads slap at our cheeks, and the aroma of street food wafts around us.
My shoes skid through a patch of loose gravel when Logan stops at a wooden cart with piles of rugs stacked on top of each other. “What are you doing?”
“Sorry, miss,” he says to the cart owner.
With a quick flick, he unlocks the latch, sending the rugs rolling to the ground toward the officers, knocking them on their asses.
“Hey!” she cries, but we’re already gone.
Our cheeks split and our lungs heave with laughter at their feet flying up above their heads.
“Did you see that?” Logan beams proudly. “They fell like a couple of bowling pins.”
I flank his side, sprinting as hard as I can to keep up. “Impressive fugitive work. Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”
We’re forced to slow for a group of bike carts, but the alley is close enough that I can see the entrance.
“What now?” he pants.
“This way.” Grabbing his hand, I yank him sideways, past a scarf and jewelry display.
He swipes one purple and one gold scarf off the table before dropping more bills than they’re worth on top of the vacant register. We shake them out and quickly wrap them around our heads before ducking inside the shadow-laden alley.
“Is this really the best time to take a call?” I ask when Logan raises his phone to his ear.
“I’m having Javier pick us up. He shouldn’t be far.”
Sunlight pours through the exit up ahead, but we stop to catch our breath for a moment, plastering our backs against the building behind us while he phones his driver.
“Right. Good idea.” I let my head fall back on the cool brick, feeding my greedy lungs gulps of air.
Once he hangs up, he eyes me suspiciously. “What’s so funny?”
I huff strands of hair off my forehead before tugging the frilly lace beneath his chin, and he lolls his head my way. “Kind of feels like we’re kids again.”
Our faces are close enough that I could press my lips to his if I wanted to, and boy, do I suddenly want to.
“It does, doesn’t it?”
I can’t help admiring the inherent strength in his handsome face or those full, sensual lips bordering on the verge of amusement.
“Mmm, I remember that look,” he says smoothly, tauntingly—and my heart leaps for my throat when, inch by agonizing inch, he closes the gap. “You’re about to kiss me, aren’t you, sunshine?”
My lashes flutter when his chuckle sweeps through them.
I am. I really fucking am.
He flicks a glance over my head, down the alleyway, and unabashed depravity transforms his face when he breathes, “You better be quick.”
“There they are!” Relentless in their pursuit, the officer’s heavy footfalls echo off the walls.
I groan, preparing to run. “Persistent much?”
Logan’s fingers thread through mine, steady and strong. “Ready?”
“Right behind you.”
We burst through the exit, ditching our scarves as we take off for the intersection, and traffic comes to a screeching halt when Javier fishtails around the corner, partially blocking two lanes.
A cacophony of honking surrounds us, followed by angry shouts and shaking fists.
Javier rolls down the window, brows jumping toward his hairline, but Logan holds up a hand, cutting him off. “No time for questions.”
He yanks the back door open, all but shoving me inside, and then slides in after me.
“Hello, Javier,” I say cheerily, greeting him through the dividing window as if we’re old pals, and not holding up multiple lanes of traffic while on the run from the authorities.
His mustache twitches with humor. “Miss Penelope. A pleasure to see you, as always.”
“Let’s get this fucking show on the road here, shall we?” Logan urges.
“Your seatbelt, sir.”
Mumbling a rainbow of curse words, he clicks me in first, then himself. “Happy? Let’s go.”
With a satisfied smile, Javier cranks the wheel and punches the gas, leaving the chaos of the market behind.
“Shit.” I slump back against the seat when I realize the bag I was carrying is gone. “I left the food.”
“I’ll replenish what was lost, don’t worry,” Logan assures me without hesitation, and I stare at him, surprised.
He doesn’t know those kids—never even knew the group home existed until just a few minutes ago—yet he’s willing to provide for them?
Heart, meet flutters.
After Logan instructs Javier to take us to Anchorage Harbor, the center window swiftly snicks shut, enveloping us in privacy. The road noise is barely a hum as we pick up speed.
“Thank you,” I say, melting into the leather seat beside him. I close my eyes while my heart beats through the last tingling drops of adrenaline. “I can’t believe that just happened.”
“I can’t believe you almost got us caught.”
“Me?” My eyes pop open. “How about a ‘thank you’ for saving our asses?”
His head rests back on the seat, his long legs parting, and a sly smirk on his lips. “I’ll admit, using a live animal as a weapon wouldn’t have been my go-to.”
Shifting to face him, I don’t hide my unfiltered pride. “Better than a dead one, don’t you think?”
Those eyes wrinkle with amusement.
“Do you think he saw us?” I ask.
“No, I don’t think so.”
I fiddle with the bottom seam of my dress. “Would you care if he did?”
When I glance up, he’s staring at my lips, and I’m losing the battle of resistance one heartbeat at a time with him looking at me like that. “It’s complicated. I want to do right by him, but… I want to do right by you so fucking badly, Pen.”
My chest caves with his admission, understanding the struggle, even if I don’t like it.
“You promised me you wouldn’t end up like him.”
“I know,” he says.
“So what changed?”
Those haunted eyes study me through several more heartbeats. “You weren’t there.”
I blink, sitting straighter. “Are you blaming me for how things turned out for you?”
“No, I’m blaming myself for letting you go. For accepting that your silence meant you wanted nothing to do with me when I should have known better. I should’ve fought harder for you. For us.”
What a tangled web we weave… And we’re just as trapped now as we were then. I want him to choose me, but I’m hiding him, too. Tucking him and my life here in Keerah inside a little bubble that’s dangerously fragile for as precious as it is to me.
When words fail me, I slowly drag the tip of my finger down the length of his nose, then the dip of his Cupid’s bow, before sweeping my knuckle along his lower lip.
“You’re in charge of when we stop pretending,” he rasps, heating my skin with a soft breath.
A chill skates up my spine so forcefully, I shudder. “Pretending what?”
My seatbelt releases with a click, and I can sense him carefully choosing his words. “That you don’t want me to pull you over here and give us both what we’ve been longing for.”
“Never,” I whisper, even as he unfastens his seatbelt and gently tugs my arm.
Enchanted by the raw deference in his gaze, I allow him to guide me onto his lap. My dress bunches around my waist as my core sits directly above his straining zipper, and my knees dig into the seat on either side of his strong thighs.
My body blooms to life for him, stretching and awakening, and I inhale a sexy, alluring scent that calls to me now when, before, I didn’t care for it.
It’s a subtle change that should terrify me, but it beckons me instead.
“You’ve always been beautiful, but there’s something uniquely irresistible about you in these dresses.” His pupils expand, eyes heavy with gluttonous desire as his nails glide beneath the thin material and up my thighs. “My favorite, actually.”
“I remember,” I reply hoarsely, throbbing with need when his thumbs halt just inches from my panties.
With my hands braced on his shoulders, I roll my hips, relishing the feel of him hard for me and this effect I have on him.
He growls appreciatively, and the sound has a flicker of heat zipping toward my clit. “I think I like your version of never.”
Something dark and dangerous drags me under his seductive tide. It laps between my legs like an impatient lover, heating my body to the point of liquifying.
“How about, no fucking way?” We moan collectively when I grind harder, squeezing his cock between our bodies, needing more of those noises, saturated with pleasure. “Or maybe, you’re out of your mind if you think I actually like this.”
“You can’t know how much I’ve craved this,” he murmurs with one hand grasping my hip while the other winds through my hair, tipping my head back.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He licks my pulse, fluttering like mad above my throat.
“Craved what?” I breathe.
“Your chaos.”
His lips are satiny soft when his mouth finally captures mine, and we clutch each other as if fearful that none of this is really happening. That we’ve somehow met inside a sleepy dreamscape, and neither of us knows when the other will wake.
Logan utters faint, strangled noises between kisses, stuttering my rapidly beating heart. His whole body trembles with need and desire driven by twelve years of mourning each other, twelve years of unanswered wishes, twelve years of should’ve, could’ve, would’ves—and we’re desperate, absolutely starved, as we tear at our clothing in a heated flurry.
The threads in his shirt pop when I tug it over his head, and my dress is next to go, separating our mouths for half of a second before he’s on me again. He claws at the clasp at my back, fingertips scraping my skin as he scrambles to free my breasts.
Without pause, he tosses my bra onto the bench seat across from us before replacing it with his hands. I arch into his warm, kneading palms while fumbling with the top of his shorts.
“Off,” I rasp, yanking at the button. “I want them off right now.”
“Not yet.” The groan he releases when he lashes one nipple with his hot tongue rivals mine, vibrating across my skin toward the base of my spine. He pulls it between his lips, rolling and sucking before whispering, “Let me play.”
The scruff on his cheeks scratches the sensitive skin between my breasts as he nuzzles, bites, and licks.
“Logan,” I whine. “Please. Haven’t we waited long enough?”
I’m given a salacious grin that pebbles my nipples harder, making them even more sensitive. “You want me to make you come, is that it?”
“Yes. I want to feel you inside me, so badly.”
“I never stood a chance, did I?” he purrs before sinking his teeth into the sensitive underside of my breast. “Look at you… Shaking with the need for me to fuck you.”
I hiss at the pain mixed with pleasure, writhing in his lap, out of my mind with desire.
Several hot licks soothe the sting away before he presses a kiss to the throbbing area. “I’m going to give you what you want, sunshine, but I’m not fucking you in the back of a car.”
Disappointment washes over me, but my need for him is as relentless as the officers we left at the market. I continue grinding my soaking wet panties against his lap. “Don’t be a gentleman on my account.”
With two hands braced around my waist, he stills me. “What you’re offering, believe me, I want it.” His gaze is stormy when he looks up at me. “But I want all of you more. Every scar on your body and mark on your heart. I want all the good you have to give, but I especially want the ugly.”
I swallow, confused by the surplus of emotion battling the raging lust he’s coaxed within me.
“I’m not shielding my feelings from you, Pen. They’re out there, battered and bruised, but they’re not hidden.” I shake my head as he presses feather-light kisses down the curve of my neck. “You’re holding back from me, and I won’t have you fully until I have all of you.”
The last strip of barbed wire around my heart refuses to budge. There’s too much at stake for what he’s asking. How can I trust that he’ll put me first? How can I trust that, if and when things go sideways, he won’t jump ship?
Kissing back up to my jaw, he says, “So, you’ll settle for my fingers buried inside you as you come. I’ll capture my name, shouted from your lips, and then, we’re going to make good on my promise to replace the food you lost for the home.”
Though I’m thankful for his generosity, I whimper a pathetic, “Not fair.”
It’s not fair that he’s asking for the impossible or that he’s making the kids a priority—and in turn, stealing my heart from where it’s steadily racing for him.
Logan’s fingers creep toward the seam of my panties, and I rub against his palm in search of relief when he cups me.
“If that makes me a greedy bastard, then so be it. But those are the terms.” Anticipation builds as he deftly yanks my panties to the side. “And when you accept them, I’m going to take my time unraveling you.”
Gently, delicately, he kisses my forehead while the tips of two fingers circle my clit. His tender touches are such a stark comparison to the decadent filth tumbling from his lips. It’s foreign, and sexy, and everything I didn’t know I wanted—but fuckme, do I want it.
“Maybe I’ll bend you over the desk in my office, rip your skirt up the middle and give myself a view of that perfect ass and your swollen, aching heat.” He hums as if that’s exactly what he wants. “I’ll spread your legs, fall to my knees behind you, and then bury my face right here, where my fingers are.”
“Logan,” I moan.
“That’s right. You’ll scream my name, and only my name. No one else has access to you but me.”
I’m trembling in his grasp as he switches our position—me in his seat with him kneeling on the floorboard between my legs.
“Yes, yes. Only you. Swear.” He’s teasing me, driving me wild with desire until he finally ends my torture and glides two fingers inside me. I gasp at the ecstasy of him filling me, panting another, “I swear.”
His mouth parts in awe while I buck and writhe, and I’m given a single, scorching glance before his tongue flattens against me.
“Ohfuck. Ohfuck,” I cry out in a rush, but he’s not just licking, he’s breathing me in and growling against my slick, sensitive flesh as he pistons his fingers inside me.
He feeds himself my taste, sucking at his fingers with every retreat as I helplessly watch, nearly combusting when his eyes flick to mine, filled with rapture. “Fucking hell, I’ve missed this pussy, Penelope.”
My fingers grip his hair as he brings me to the brink of what promises to be a soul-shattering orgasm. With expert finesse, he rapidly curls his fingers three times, then gradually pumps in and out, repeating the same motion and sending bolts of pleasure through my entire system. “You’ll be ready just like this when I finally have you—when you finally give in. So wet, so eager for me to take you that you’ll fall to your knees and crawl for me.”
The very idea of crawling for him pings stars behind my eyes, and I close them, surrendering myself to this pleasure completely. My skin flushes, alive with the pleasure pooling deep within my core. “I-I want you to take it. Please.”
“We’re going to use those toys of yours, too,” he says, licking his lips, watching evidence of my arousal continue to coat his fingers. “Would you like that?”
“Yes. Fuck yes,” I moan. “I’m about to… I’m right there.”
“Come for me, sunshine. Give me what I’m after while you take what you need,” he says before flicking his tongue over my clit one last time.
I reach for him, my mouth gaping open as I rise to meet the tide that waits to swallow me whole. He cradles me into his chest, and as promised, kisses his name from my lips—capturing my moans, and matching their intensity when I shout.
The car rolls to a stop the moment Logan pulls his hand from between my legs, and I’m half tempted to clamp them shut and keep him there.
“You’re not mine to cage, but possess you, I will.” I search his gaze and find there’s no mistaking his meaning.
Just as he had before, and as he plans to do now.
Mind. Body. Soul.
It won’t be long before I give in to him entirely.