Chapter Twenty-Three Grace
Chapter Twenty-Three
Grace
I step onto the beach, the soft sand shifting beneath my sandals as I approach the restaurant. My heart is pounding in my chest, a mix of nerves and anticipation fluttering in my stomach. I almost didn’t come. The whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me—the confusion, the hurt, the uncertainty—had made me want to stay holed up in my room.
Something pulled me here, a quiet hope that maybe… just maybe, Logan and I could figure this out.
As I get closer, I stop in my tracks, my breath catching in my throat. The restaurant is stunning. The entire place has been cleared out, leaving only a single table set for two. Flickering candlelight dances in the gentle breeze, casting a warm glow over the white linens and polished silverware. Lanterns hang from the nearby trees, illuminating the area in soft golden light, while the ocean waves crash softly against the shore in the background. The whole setup feels intimate, private, as if the world has been reduced to just the two of us for the evening.
Logan has put in so much effort. I can see it in every detail—the way the candles are arranged, the quiet elegance of the place. It's nothing extravagant, nothing showy, but that makes it all the more beautiful. He’s trying. Despite everything, despite all the doubts that have been plaguing me, the sight of it softens something deep inside me.
I let out a shaky breath, my heart aching as I walk toward the table. He’s standing there, waiting for me, his eyes catching the candlelight as he watches me approach. For a moment, we just stare at each other, the air between us thick with tension—both of us knowing there’s so much to say, but neither of us knowing where to start.
Logan shifts slightly, clearing his throat as I come to a stop in front of him. “Grace,” he begins, his voice low and rough with emotion. “I—”
Before he can finish, he stops, his brow furrowing as if the words are stuck in his throat. I can see him struggling, the weight of whatever he’s trying to say hanging heavy in the air.
“I…” he tries again, but instead of speaking, he steps forward, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat.
Then his lips are on mine.
The kiss is sudden, unexpected, but I melt into it almost instantly. His hands cup my face, holding me to him as his lips move over mine—hungry, desperate, filled with all the emotions he can’t seem to put into words. I feel a shiver run down my spine, the intensity of the kiss sending heat pooling low in my belly. The world around us fades, the sound of the waves, the flicker of candlelight, everything disappears, and all that’s left is Logan and me.
I kiss him back just as fiercely, my hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer, needing more of him. His hands slide down my back, pulling me flush against him, and I gasp softly into his mouth as I feel the hard press of his body against mine. It’s overwhelming, the way he kisses me, like he’s been waiting for this moment forever, like he’s trying to tell me everything he hasn’t been able to say with just the way his lips move over mine.
It’s passionate, raw, and steamy in a way that has my heart racing, my skin tingling. I can feel the heat between us building, the tension that’s been simmering beneath the surface for so long finally boiling over.
When we finally pull apart, we’re both breathless, our foreheads resting together as we try to catch our breath. My heart is pounding so hard I can barely think, and for a moment, neither of us says anything, the silence between us filled with the weight of what just happened.
Logan’s hand comes up, brushing a strand of hair away from my face, his touch gentle, reverent. His eyes are dark, intense, and when he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost a whisper.
“I love you, Grace.”
The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. My breath catches, my heart skipping a beat as I stare at him, trying to process what he’s just said.
He pulls back slightly, his gaze searching mine, his expression raw, vulnerable in a way I’ve never seen before. “I’ve been an idiot,” he says, his voice rough. “I should’ve told you sooner, but I was scared. Scared of how much I felt for you, scared of screwing everything up. I’m done hiding it. I love you, Grace. I’ve loved you for a long time.”
The sincerity in his eyes, the rawness in his voice, it’s too much. My heart swells, and before I can stop myself, the words spill out of me.
“I love you too, Logan.”
We sit down at the beautifully set table, and I can’t help but marvel at the effort Logan has put into this evening. The soft glow of candlelight reflects off the ocean, and the gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore provides the perfect backdrop. I take a deep breath, letting myself relax as the waiter pours us both a glass of wine—a deep, velvety red that smells like ripe berries and spice. The tension that’s been sitting heavy on my chest for days begins to ease, but my mind is still racing with everything I need to say.
The first course arrives, and it’s stunning. Fresh burrata with heirloom tomatoes, drizzled with olive oil and balsamic glaze, is served alongside slices of warm, crusty bread. The simplicity of the dish makes it all the more divine. I take a bite, and the creamy richness of the burrata melts in my mouth, the tartness of the tomatoes cutting through perfectly.
I glance across the table at Logan, who’s watching me with a mixture of hope and nerves. I can tell he’s trying, that he’s been thinking about every detail, and it softens something inside me.
“I didn’t know what I was going to do when I got here,” I admit, setting my fork down after a bite. “I was angry, confused. I wasn’t sure if I could even forgive you.”
Logan’s expression falters for a moment, but he nods, listening intently. “I understand,” he says softly. “I messed up. I should have handled everything with Samantha differently. I shouldn’t have let it get so out of control.”
I shake my head, my fingers nervously tracing the edge of my wine glass. “It wasn’t just you. I was acting childish, insecure. I was afraid of getting hurt, afraid of trusting you fully, and I let that cloud my judgment. I guess I just… didn’t want to face how much I care about you.”
Logan’s eyes soften, his hand reaching across the table to take mine. His thumb brushes over my knuckles in a slow, soothing gesture. “Grace, I’ve never been surer about anything in my life. I know this started out messy, but my feelings for you—they’re real. I love you.”
Hearing those words again, the sincerity in his voice, makes my heart flutter. “I love you too,” I whisper, finally letting myself believe that this could work.
The second course arrives, and it’s just as impressive—a perfectly grilled filet mignon with garlic butter, paired with truffle mashed potatoes and roasted asparagus. The rich flavors blend together effortlessly, and every bite feels like a luxury. The wine complements the dish perfectly, deepening the flavors with each sip.
As we eat, the conversation flows more easily. We talk about everything—how things started, how we both made mistakes, and how we can move forward. The vulnerability in Logan’s voice makes me feel safe, like we’re finally tearing down all the walls we built around ourselves.
“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you sooner,” I say, looking down at my plate. “I was scared of what all of this meant.”
Logan squeezes my hand gently. “I get it. I was scared too. I’m not anymore. I know what I want, and it’s you.”
We finish the main course, and as the waiter clears the plates, the air between us feels lighter. There’s still a lot to figure out, but for the first time in days, I feel like we’re on the same page. Like we’re in this together.
When dessert arrives, Logan’s eyes light up with a mischievous glint. It’s a decadent chocolate mousse, rich and dark, topped with fresh berries. He picks up a spoon, scooping a bite and holding it out to me. “Try it,” he says, his voice low and teasing.
I lean forward, closing my lips around the spoon, and the mousse melts in my mouth—creamy, indulgent, with just the right amount of sweetness. Logan watches me closely, his gaze lingering on my lips as I savor the dessert. There’s something undeniably sensual about the moment, the intimacy between us thickening as he leans closer.
“Good?” he asks, his voice husky.
“Delicious,” I murmur, licking my lips.
Before I can say anything else, Logan dips the spoon back into the mousse and brings it to his own lips, his eyes locked on mine as he takes a slow bite. The way he moves, the way his gaze never leaves mine—it sends a shiver down my spine.
Then, without warning, he leans across the table and kisses me. It’s slow, deliberate, and filled with heat. The taste of chocolate lingers on both of our lips, and I feel his hand slide to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. The kiss deepens, and I melt into him, my heart racing as the world around us fades away.
When we finally pull apart, I’m breathless, my skin tingling from the intensity of the kiss. Logan’s thumb traces my lower lip, his eyes dark with desire.
“I’m not letting you go,” he whispers, his voice low and full of promise.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper back, smiling as he leans in for another kiss, sweet and filled with the promise of everything we’ve both been too afraid to admit until now.
Logan’s kiss deepens, and I can feel the heat between us rising. Every touch of his lips, every brush of his hand against my skin sends a jolt of electricity through me, igniting something fierce and needy inside. I can’t get enough of him, and from the way his hands tighten on my waist, pulling me closer, I know he feels the same.
He breaks the kiss, breathless, his forehead resting against mine. “Back to the suite?” he asks, his voice low and rough with desire.
I nod, unable to speak. My pulse is racing, and the thought of being alone with him, away from prying eyes, is all I can focus on. I follow him as he leads me away from the beach, our hands still tangled together. It’s barely a five-minute walk, but it feels like an eternity. Every step, every glance he throws my way is filled with tension, and I can hardly keep my hands off him as we make our way back to the suite. My fingers graze the back of his neck, trailing over his shoulders as we walk, the need to touch him overwhelming.
By the time we reach the door, my heart is pounding in my chest. The second we’re inside, I close the door behind us and turn to him, my hands already moving to the hem of his shirt. I don’t waste any time. I tug it over his head, exposing the hard lines of his chest, and he grins at the eagerness in my movements. His skin is warm under my fingertips, and I trace the muscles of his abdomen, feeling the way his breath hitches at my touch.
“You’re in a hurry,” Logan teases, but his voice is thick with anticipation.
I smile up at him, a new sense of boldness surging through me. “You have no idea.”
Without waiting for a response, I push him backward, guiding him toward the bed. He falls onto the mattress with a soft thud, his eyes wide with surprise, but there’s a spark of excitement in his gaze. He likes this—this new, eager version of me that’s taking control. I like it too.
I straddle his hips, my knees pressing into the mattress on either side of him, and his hands immediately find their way to my waist, his grip firm but gentle. His touch sends a shiver down my spine, and I lean down, capturing his lips in a kiss that’s hungry, desperate. The way our bodies move together feels effortless, natural, as if we’ve been waiting for this moment for far too long.
Logan’s hands slide up my back, pulling me closer, and I can feel the heat of him beneath me, the way his body responds to mine.
My fingers tangle in his hair, and I kiss him harder, my lips moving against his with a hunger that surprises even me. He groans softly into my mouth, his hands sliding up to cup my face as he kisses me back just as fiercely. The feel of his skin against mine, the way our breaths mix in the heated space between us—it’s intoxicating.
I move my hips slightly, the friction between us making my pulse race even faster. Logan’s hands tighten on my waist, his fingers digging into my skin as if he can’t get enough. He looks up at me with dark, hungry eyes, his chest rising and falling with every breath.
“I like this side of you,” he murmurs, his voice rough and full of admiration. “You're taking control.”
I smile, leaning down to kiss him again, softer this time, but still filled with all the desire I’m feeling.
For a moment, we stay like that, kissing, touching, our bodies moving together in a rhythm that feels natural and right. The intensity of it all makes my head spin, and I feel like I’m floating, completely lost in him. I can feel the heat radiating off his skin, the way his body responds to every movement of mine, and it drives me wild.
My desire for Logan is almost overwhelming. The way his hands move over my body, firm but tender, makes my pulse race, and I can’t get enough of him. It’s not just physical, it’s something more—a need that has been building between us for so long, simmering just beneath the surface, and now it’s spilling over, impossible to control.
His hands slide up my thighs, gripping my hips as I shift above him, and the look in his eyes sends a shiver through me. It’s like he can’t believe this is happening either, like he’s just as consumed by this as I am. I lean down, my lips brushing over his, teasing him with a kiss that’s softer than before, playful.
“You know,” I murmur against his lips, “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”
Logan chuckles, his voice low and rough. “Oh yeah? Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
I smile, biting my lip as I pull back slightly, letting my fingers trail down his chest, feeling the muscles tense beneath my touch. “Maybe I liked watching you squirm a little,” I tease.
His eyes darken, a mischievous glint flickering in them. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”
“Am I?” I lean in again, kissing the edge of his jaw, letting my breath tickle his skin. “You seem to like it.”
Logan groans softly, his hands sliding up my back as he pulls me closer, his lips grazing my neck. “You’re impossible to resist, Grace. You’ve always been.”
The words send a rush of warmth through me, making my heart pound even harder. I can’t believe how deeply I feel for him—how much I’ve fallen for him. I’m completely caught up in him, in the way his touch ignites something inside me that I never knew was there. It’s not just lust, it’s more. It’s love, this undeniable pull that makes me want him in every way possible.
His cock throbs against my inner thigh, and I smile.
I shift slightly, my hips brushing against his, and Logan lets out a low, throaty sound that sends heat rushing through me. His hands grip my waist tighter, and I feel the tension coiling between us again, more urgent this time.
My hands fumble with his jeans, and then he’s inside of me. It’s a familiar sensation, one that forces a heady moan from my lips as we grind together. I want to savor it, to make it last; but when Logan arches into me and I see stars, I know I won’t last long.
“Grace…” His voice is barely more than a whisper, rough with need. “You’re driving me crazy.”
I laugh softly, my hands sliding up to cup his face. “That’s the idea.”
He grins, that playful, cocky smirk that makes my heart race every time. “I should’ve known you’d be trouble the moment I laid eyes on you.”
I raise an eyebrow, leaning in so that my lips are just a breath away from his. “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Logan closes the distance between us, kissing me deeply, his hands moving with more urgency now, more need. I melt into him, my body responding to every touch. We move together, his cock seated so deeply inside of me that I can feel every twitch and pulse.
I’ve never wanted anyone like this, never felt this overwhelming pull that makes me feel like I could lose myself in him completely.
His lips move from my mouth to my neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, and I gasp softly, my fingers tangling in his hair. Then, he takes one firm nipple into his mouth and I stutter out his name.
“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” I whisper, the words slipping out before I can even think to stop them. It doesn’t matter, because it’s true. I love him, every part of him, and I can’t imagine being anywhere else but here, with him.
I last barely five minutes before I can’t hold on anymore. Logan bites down on the soft part of my neck and I moan. My walls clench, my whole body tenses as my orgasm washes over me—
We come together, Logan and I. He fills me with his warmth as I hover above him, thighs shaking.
Eventually I collapse on top of him, spent and satisfied. When he offers me a grin, I smile sleepily back.