Chapter 27
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
TESSA
Within minutes, Logan is at the coffee shop, pushing through the door like he’s ready to go to war. His eyes find me immediately, and the relief that floods his face is so intense it nearly breaks me all over again.
“Tessa,” he breathes. Crossing the space in three long strides, he pulls me into his arms.
The moment I’m safe—truly safe, wrapped in his solid warmth—the adrenaline drains from my body and the tears finally fall, hot and uncontrollable.
I cling to him, my fingers fisting in his shirt, letting myself be held by someone I love. Someone who loves me.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs into my hair, one hand cradling the back of my head. “I’ve got you, baby. You’re safe now.”
I nod against his chest, unable to speak past the tightness in my throat.
After a moment, he pulls back just enough to look at me, his hands framing my face. His eyes scan me quickly, cataloging any injuries, and when he sees the bruises already forming on my arm, his jaw tightens with barely contained rage.
“Come on,” he says, his voice carefully controlled. “Let’s get you home.”
He thanks Joyce and Layla for looking out for me—his gratitude genuine despite the tension radiating from his body—then keeps one arm wrapped firmly around me as he leads me to his SUV. Cole follows at a distance, giving us space.
The ride back to the condo is quiet. Logan holds my hand the entire time, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on my palm.
Once we’re back, he leads me straight to the bathroom and starts running a hot bath, adding bubbles from the expensive bottle he keeps for me. The scent of lavender fills the air as steam rises from the water.
“Will you join me?” I ask, suddenly desperate not to be alone. Not to be left with my thoughts.
“Of course,” he says without hesitation. He turns to face me, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to my forehead, then cups my face between his hands. “Whatever you need, Tessa. Always.”
We undress slowly, carefully, then slip into the oversized tub together. I settle back against his chest, my body fitting perfectly into the cradle of his. His legs bracket mine, and I rest my head against his shoulder as the hot, soapy water surrounds us.
His fingers move slowly up and down my arms—careful to avoid the bruises—gentle and grounding. Every so often, he presses a kiss to the top of my head, and I can feel his chest rise and fall with each steady breath beneath me.
We sit like that for a while, just breathing, letting the warmth and the quiet and each other wash away the sharp edges of the day.
“Penny’s already scheduled a meeting with the lawyers,” Logan says eventually, his voice soft. “Tomorrow morning. She thinks with the assault charges and the restraining order violation, she can—”
“Can we talk about that later?” I interrupt gently. “Right now, I just want to forget.”
He goes still for a moment, then his arms tighten around me. “Of course,” he says. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay,” I say quickly. “I know I’ll have to deal with it. I will deal with it. But not right now.”
“We won’t talk about it again until you’re ready,” he promises, pressing another kiss to my hair.
Right now, I just want to feel good. I want to go back to how I felt this morning—happy, carefree, and safe. I don’t want to feel the despair Preston always leaves behind, the darkness that threatens to swallow me whole.
Logan seems to sense the shift in my mood. He pulls me closer, his body solid and warm behind mine, an anchor in the storm. He kisses the side of my neck, slow and deliberate, then my jaw, then my cheek.
“You don’t have to carry this alone,” he murmurs against my skin.
I close my eyes and focus on the feel of his lips against my skin, on the way my body slowly begins to relax beneath his touch. A soft sigh escapes me as warmth blooms through my chest—not just from the water, but from him.
“Logan,” I whisper, turning my head slightly toward him.
“Yeah, baby?” His voice is low, gentle, as he kisses my cheek again.
I take a breath, letting the request form. “Make me feel.”
“What do you want to feel?” he asks, his lips hovering near my ear.
“I want to feel good,” I breathe, my knees drifting apart beneath the water.
His arms tighten around me, and when he speaks again, his voice has dropped—rough and unmistakably changed, threaded with desire and promise.
“Oh,” he says quietly, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, “I can make you feel good. That’s something I can definitely do.”
His hands move slowly, reverently, starting at my shoulders. His fingers trace the line of my collarbone, then drift lower, skimming over my chest with featherlight touches that make my breath catch.
“Just relax,” he murmurs against my ear, his voice low and soothing. “Let me take care of you.”
I let my head fall back against his shoulder, giving him silent permission. His arms encircle me, wrapping around mine, holding me safe against his chest as his hands begin to explore.
He cups my breasts gently, his thumbs brushing over my nipples in slow circles. The sensation sends sparks of pleasure through me, and I arch slightly into his touch. He responds by rolling the sensitive peaks between his fingers, pulling and tugging with just enough pressure to make me gasp.
“That’s it,” he breathes. “Just feel.”
His lips find the curve of my neck, kissing and sucking gently as his hands continue their ministrations. One hand stays at my breast, teasing and coaxing, while the other begins a slow journey down my body.
His fingertips trail over my ribs, tracing patterns on my skin. Every touch is deliberate, worshipful, and designed to ground me in sensation and pleasure. He moves lower, his palm splaying across my stomach, fingers dancing over the sensitive skin of my belly.
Goose bumps rise in the wake of his touch.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. “So perfect.”
His hand drifts lower still, and my knees fall open instinctively, my body knowing what it wants.
“My perfect girl,” he says softly, and the praise sends another wave of heat through me.
His fingers slip between my thighs, finding my center beneath the water. He moves slowly at first, teasing, his fingertips circling my clit with maddening gentleness.
I whimper, my hips shifting, seeking more.
“Patience,” he whispers, but there’s a smile in his voice.
He continues the slow torture, building the pleasure gradually, methodically. His other hand stays at my breast, pinching and rolling my nipple in time with the circles he’s drawing below.
Then he shifts, and suddenly, I have both—one hand working my clit in steady, perfect circles while two fingers from his other hand slide inside me, curling to find that spot that makes stars explode behind my eyes.
“Oh God,” I gasp, my body arching.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “Let go, baby. Just let go.”
The dual sensation is overwhelming. His fingers inside me stroke that perfect spot with every thrust. His thumb on my clit rubs in firm, consistent circles. The heat of his body behind me, solid and safe. His lips on my neck, my ear, my shoulder.
It’s too much and not enough all at once.
Pleasure builds and builds, coiling tight in my belly, spreading through my limbs like liquid fire. My toes curl against the bottom of the tub. My hands grip his thighs beneath the water, nails digging in.
All thoughts leave me. Everything dissolves until there’s nothing but sensation. Nothing but Logan’s hands on me, in me, taking me apart and putting me back together with every stroke.
“That’s it,” he encourages, his voice rough. “Come for me, Tessa. Let me feel you.”
His fingers move faster, more insistent, and the pleasure crests suddenly, violently.
I scream. My body clenches around his fingers, waves of ecstasy crashing through me so intensely my vision goes white. My entire body shakes, trembling with the force of my release, and he works me through it, drawing out every last pulse of pleasure until I’m boneless and gasping in his arms.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, slowly withdrawing his hands and wrapping his arms around me. “You’re perfect.”
I pant, trying to catch my breath, my heart hammering against my ribs. My skin is flushed, hypersensitive, every nerve ending still singing.
Logan nibbles gently at my earlobe, his voice a low rumble. “How did that feel, baby?”
I let out a long, shuddering sigh, melting back against him.
“Perfect,” I breathe.
He presses a kiss to my temple, his arms tightening around me. “Good. That’s all I want—for you to feel good. To feel safe. To feel loved.”
And wrapped in his arms, water cooling around us, my body still humming with aftershocks, I do.
I feel all of those things.
And for right now, that’s enough.
Eventually, my body comes down from the mountain of pleasure I just experienced, and I’m utterly at peace. Sex is something I’ve always dreaded and feared—something to endure, to survive. But this, the connection with Logan, is something entirely different. It’s healing, and it’s all mine.
I turn around to face him, water sloshing gently as I straddle his body. His hands immediately come to my waist, steadying me, his eyes searching mine.
“I have a secret,” I say, sliding up his slick body to kiss him on the lips.
“Oh yeah?” he questions, a smile tugging at his beautiful, full lips. His hands massage my hips gently. “What’s that?”
“You know how you’ve been working to give me all these beautiful firsts this summer?” I trace my fingers along his jaw and down his neck.
“Yeah.” He nods, his eyes warm and attentive.
“Well, you gave me another first that I didn’t tell you about.” I hold his gaze, letting him see the truth in my eyes.
“What’s that?” he murmurs.
I glide my body along his hard and impressive length, feeling him twitch beneath me. “You gave me my first orgasm,” I say quietly.
He leans back, his eyes going wide with shock. “What?”
I press my lips together and nod, suddenly nervous about his reaction. “Sex has never been enjoyable for me. It’s been more of a punishment, something to get through.” I take a breath. “With you, I’m experiencing it for the first time, the way it should be. The way it’s meant to feel.”
“Tessa,” he breathes out, my name sounding so sad, so broken coming from his lips. His hands slide up my back, pulling me closer. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I shake my head, giving him a genuine smile. “I think it was meant to be this way. I was meant to have all my beautiful firsts with you.”
I lean down, and our lips meet, slow and deep. Our tongues swirl in a beautiful dance meant just for us, a language we speak alone. I groan into his mouth, reaching a hand beneath the water. I wrap my fingers around him, stroking once, twice, before positioning his tip at my entrance.
“Tessa,” he breathes against my lips, half warning, half plea.
I whisper, “I want you.”
I sink down slowly, taking him inch by inch, and he groans loudly into my mouth as our kiss intensifies. He fills me completely, and I feel him everywhere. It’s the best medicine I could ever hope for.
I start to move on top of him, rocking back and forth in the most exquisite rhythm. Water laps at the sides of the tub, spilling over the edge with each movement. He threads his hands through my hair, deepening our kiss as his pelvis moves, his thrusts meeting mine.
“God, Tessa,” he groans, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down my neck. “You feel so fucking perfect.”
I tilt my head back to give him better access and increase my pace. His hands slide from my hair to my hips, guiding my movements, helping me find the angle that makes stars explode behind my eyes.
“Right there,” I gasp. “Logan, right there—”
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his grip tightening as he thrusts up harder, hitting that perfect spot with every stroke.
One of his hands moves to my breast, palming it, his thumb circling my nipple before pinching gently. The dual sensation—him inside me, his hands on me—makes me moan loudly.
“That’s it, baby,” he encourages, his voice rough. “Let me hear you. Let me know what I do to you.”
I ride him faster, harder, chasing the pleasure building inside me. His other hand slides between us, finding my clit, rubbing in perfect circles that make my thighs tremble.
“Logan,” I cry out, my nails digging into his shoulders. “I’m so close—”
“Come for me,” he commands, his voice strained. “I want to feel you fall apart around me.”
His words, the friction, the way he’s looking at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen—it all crashes over me at once.
I come with a scream, my body clenching around him, pleasure radiating through every nerve ending. He doesn’t stop, working me through it, extending my orgasm until I’m shaking, boneless, and barely able to hold myself up.
“Fuck, Tessa,” he groans, his thrusts becoming erratic.
He buries himself deep, his whole body going rigid as he comes with a guttural groan, my name falling from his lips.
I feel him pulse inside me, feel the warmth of his release, and something about it feels sacred—this moment, this connection, this man who’s given me back pieces of myself I thought were lost forever.
We stay like that for a long moment, foreheads pressed together, breathing hard, hearts pounding in sync.
“I love you,” Logan says suddenly, the words raw and unguarded. “I’m in love with you, Tessa. I have been for a while now.”
Tears spring to my eyes—happy tears this time. “I love you too,” I whisper back. “So much it scares me.”
He cups my face, his thumbs brushing away the tears spilling down my cheeks. “Don’t be scared,” he says softly. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”
“Forever,” I say without hesitation. “I want forever.”
He kisses me then, slow and deep and full of promise, and I know—despite everything, despite Preston, despite all the darkness I’ve survived—I’m going to be okay.
Because I have this. I have him. I have us.
And that’s everything.
We eventually climb out of the now-cool water, pruned and thoroughly exhausted. Logan wraps me in a fluffy towel and carries me to bed, both of us too tired and content to bother with clothes.
I curl into his side, my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow to a steady rhythm.
“Thank you,” I murmur sleepily.
“For what?” he asks, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back.
“For giving me firsts instead of lasts. For showing me what love is supposed to feel like.”
His arms tighten around me. “Thank you for trusting me and letting me love you.”
I press a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “Always.”
Wrapped in his arms, safe and loved and finally free, the fear from earlier doesn’t return.
There’s no way this incredible love would be given to me just to have it be ripped away.
Things are going to work out. I don’t know how but they have to.
Now that I know what it feels like to be loved, wholly and beautifully, the way that Logan loves me, I’m never letting it go.