17. Tori
The arena is a ghost town as I make my way down to the hall beneath the arena where the coaching staff have their individual offices. It’s a path I’ve walked plenty of times in my five years with the team, but today, my feet wobble with each step. I don’t know why I opted for heels and a skirt; maybe it’s a subconscious attempt to soothe his anger and give me enough time to explain myself. Though who knows if that’s going to work. For all I know, Logan has called Dee to his office and I’m about to lose my job for real.
I didn’t sleep well last night, and the anxious thoughts have stayed with me on the drive here. They grow louder and louder until I can barely hear the click of my heels. Whatever happens today, I’m going to handle myself with grace. I am Jack Strauss’s daughter, and I will not be intimidated by any man—alpha, beta, or otherwise.
When I reach Logan’s door, I pause before I knock. He’s not the principal, and he’s not my supervisor. Does he hold my career in his hands? Yes. But that doesn’t mean he holds all the power here. I’ve gone over all possible outcomes since I walked away yesterday. I need to establish what he saw or heard, and then I can address matters from there.
“Come in, Victoria,” Logan’s voice calls from within the office after I rap three times.
Hearing his deep baritone curl around my name brings goosebumps to my arms, but I shake it off, clear my throat, and twist the handle, stepping into the office with my head held high.
The last time I was here, our previous head coach had the room decked out in vintage hockey memorabilia, photos, and framed jerseys covering almost every available inch of wall space between the display cases. The furniture was broken-in, faded brown leather, and the whole place had the lingering odor of chewing tobacco. But now, the walls are painted a slate gray, interrupted with black-and-white images, action shots of hockey players. The cases hold NCAA trophies, all of which are polished to a mirror shine. There’s a black leather couch with tasteful white throw pillows against the wall to the left of the door, a huge ebony desk to the right with two comfortable looking white leather chairs. Sleek, modern, clean, brutal. Much like the man at the desk, staring at me as he leans back in his massive chair.
“You’re early,” he remarks, motioning for me to take a seat in front of him.
I straighten my shoulders and glide across the floor, perching myself on the edge of one of the chairs, smoothing out my seafoam-green circle skirt. I don’t say anything as I tuck one ankle behind the other before resting my hands gently in my lap.
“Do you have your phone?” he asks, and my brow twitches down slightly in confusion.
Sliding the device out from the hidden pocket at my side, I hold it up. I’d considered setting it to record this interaction as insurance, but the lack of evidence of my relationships with Spencer, Eli, and Oli would work in my favor. And leaving it behind wasn’t an option, as I didn’t want to not have a way to call for help if I needed it. Logan sits forward and holds out his hand, the silent command clear. I pause, not sure I like where this is going.
“Turn it off and hand it to me, please,” he says after an agonizing couple of heartbeats.
“Why should I?” I challenge, my guard coming up.
He doesn’t answer, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his own device. Making sure I can see the screen, he powers it down and opens a drawer in his desk. I’m not sure what game he’s playing, but for now, it would be easier to play along. I follow his instructions, and he places my phone in the drawer beside his, closes it, and locks it, handing me the key. Our fingers touch for the briefest moment, and I jump at the slight jolt, not that he notices. Once I’ve withdrawn my hand, he stands with a groan, sliding his hands into his pockets as he meanders out from behind his desk.
“Now that we have some privacy, we have a lot to discuss, don’t we?” His tone is casual, too casual.
Twisting in my seat, I watch him make his way to the door, swallowing hard as he locks the handle. I clench the key in my fist, trying to keep myself from shaking. The coaching offices don’t have cameras inside of them, but I passed plenty of them on my way here, including the one at the end of the hall pointing at the doors. We’re only a few hours away from practice, and I know several players who arrive early to get warmed up. My boys are expecting me to be there at practice to mic up one of the players today. It’s only those facts that let me remain calm enough to answer.
“I can assure you, whatever you think you saw has a perfectly innocent explanation,” I reply steadily.
Logan laughs, returning to the desk, but this time he leans against the edge in front of me, his larger frame looming over mine. He’s in a black polo today, his black slacks hugging his thighs perfectly. The short sleeves allow glimpses of his tattoos, or at least the parts that come down over his elbows. I don’t know how I didn’t notice them before, but they’re impossible to ignore now. Especially as my mind conjures the memories of those pool party photos from Arizona.
“Eyes up here,” Logan snaps. It’s not a bark, but certainly not a request either.
I suck in a sharp breath through my nose, my eyes locking onto his forest-green orbs, a shiver coming over me as I see the heat flaring to life there.
“How long?”
“That’s… There’s nothing—”
A growl cuts off the lie before it can fully form, and it takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to flinch. Logan inhales deeply, and I mirror him subconsciously, though I immediately wish I hadn’t. His scent is everywhere, cinnamon and cloves and apples, a heady rush that makes me sway slightly.
“I was hoping you would choose not to lie to me.” He sighs, pulling my focus back to his face.
Something about the tone of his voice, like he’s not mad but just disappointed, makes my stomach flip and my pussy clench, and I have to clear my throat. I need to keep my head, or I could lose everything.
“Is it just Astrauckas? Or are you involved with the other two? And keep in mind, if you continue to lie to me, there will be consequences,” Logan asks, trailing off in a low growl.
I look away for a moment, trying to get my body under control. My nipples press hard against the inside of my bra, and my face is on fire beneath his attention.
“As I was trying to say, Coach, I don’t know what you thought you saw, but I’m—”
Logan lunges before I finish. I gasp as his fingers close around my throat, pulling me out of my seat and practically off my feet until we’re nose to nose. The black of his pupils has swallowed all but the thinnest sliver of green in his eyes, his scent strong with warm spices. I’m off balance, and I have to cling to his wrist or risk falling over.
“I don’t care what lies you cooked up for me. I know what I saw. Not just yesterday, but all fucking season. The lingering looks, the smiles you share when you don’t think anyone is looking. They come to practice dripping in your scent. And then, to top it all off, there’s this.”
Logan pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket, using his grip on my chin to turn my gaze to look at it. My heart stops as I see the printed picture, an artsy shot from when we were in St. Martin. I was lounging by the pool, Oli behind me in the chair, one arm wrapped around my chest as Spencer leans close, the back of my hand pressed to his mouth for a kiss.
“Jokinson took this, didn’t he? Or did you have a photographer with you on your little getaway?” Logan snarls.
“I don’t — How d-did you get that?” I ask as tears form at the edges of my eyes.
Despair starts to drag me down into its dark depths. Tears slip free at last, sliding down my cheeks and onto Logan’s hand. I don’t even fight him anymore, and I can’t take my eyes off the picture. I can’t fight this. It’s all right there, pixels as proof of the truth.
“Hey, don’t cry. It’s okay, baby girl. I’m sure Joker didn’t mean to send it to me, because he tried to unsend it almost immediately after. But I couldn’t help myself,” Logan replies, shifting from angry to soothing as one of his thumbs comes up to wipe away a tear.
I close my eyes, my whole body trembling as I teeter on the edge of a panic attack. I sense it approaching like a tsunami, expanding and expanding, poised to engulf me entirely. But then Logan’s hand releases my throat and cups my jaw, the picture fluttering to the floor as his other hand does the same.
“Open your eyes for me,” Logan purrs.
My lids crack open slightly, and Logan manipulates my head until I’m looking into his eyes again. The heat is still there, but there’s something like concern mixed in.
“There’s a good girl. Now breathe with me, in and out. Ready?”
My chest expands and contracts in time with his, the wave retreating with each soothing cycle. The whole time, Logan is there, keeping eye contact and wiping my cheeks with his thumbs. I’m almost boneless, my fight completely gone. I realize that I’ve grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, and I use the sensation to ground myself.
“You are quite the mystery, you know that? Every time I turn around, you do something unexpected,” he says after a few moments of tense silence.
I straighten, eyebrows pinched, not sure where he’s going with this. He’s lost the irritated edge in his voice, and a softness I’m not sure I’ve heard before replaces it. His eyes flick to my lips again, and my tongue darts out to add moisture back to them. He adjusts me until I’m not on my tiptoes, but doesn’t release his hold on my face. I stay quiet, knowing anything I say is just as likely to damn me as it is to save me.
Though with the way he’s looking at me, I’m not sure I want to be saved.
“How long, baby girl?” he whispers, not a demand but a request.
I swallow again, my head too light on my shoulders. “Since the home opener,” I admit, heat flaring in my belly as I remember that night with Elijah.
He hums and the corners of his lips pull down in a thoughtful frown. “If I’d known that, I would have done this sooner,” he says, almost to himself.
I open my mouth to ask for clarification, but I don’t get the chance to speak. Not when Logan’s lips collide with mine in the most possessive kiss I’ve ever experienced. He doesn’t wait for me to yield or overcome my shock, moaning into it as he shifts one hand to my waist to drag me flush against him. My whole body tingles at the contact, the way he knows without ever having kissed me how to turn me into a puddle. Eyes sliding closed, I kiss him back, the apple cider taste of him exploding as our tongues meet. His grip on my hip is almost bruising, but the bite of pain only stokes the neediness flaring to life in my core.
He doesn’t pull away as he turns us so my ass hits the edge of his desk. I don’t fight him as he reaches down with both hands and scoops me up under my thighs to sit me on the surface, my legs falling to either side of him as he steps between my thighs. I’m dizzy from his kiss, the demanding but tender touches to my waist, my hips, my thighs. He doesn’t move beneath my clothes, but they might as well dissolve around me.
When he pulls away suddenly, I lurch forward, trying to follow his lips. But then one of his hands is at my throat, forcing my eyes up to his face again. There’s a new glint flickering in his gaze, like something wild has awoken within him and is on the verge of possessing him completely.
“It kills me to know that I could have had you this whole time. That I wasn’t just imagining things, and that maybe you felt the same way…” he trails off with a growl.
I’m trembling under his grip, frozen in place as his other hand slowly traces nonsense patterns on my inner thigh, moving my skirt toward my waist. Something short-circuits in my brain as he grazes the seam of my hip with a fingertip, or at least that’s what I tell myself as my chin lifts, and I smirk.
“Bold of you to assume that you could’ve had me, or that you even have me now.”
Whatever tenuous control Logan had over that beast within him officially snaps, and I gasp as he drags me off the desk with one hand, hardly letting me get my feet under me before he pushes my face down toward the gleaming wood. Flipping up my skirt, he exposes my ass cheeks and the tiny string of my thong. I have just enough wherewithal to brace myself before the first blow lands, the crack of flesh on flesh followed by the sting making my pussy clench on air. He spanks me over and over, and I lose count for a moment, only aware of the way wetness weeping onto my thighs for him.
He teases a finger over the soaked crotch of my panties, chuckling darkly to himself. “Seems like I’m not so bold after all. You fucking love this, don’t you? You love it when Daddy spanks his naughty brat,” Logan growls, a sinister edge to his voice.
My soul leaves my body, all thoughts of right and wrong, of should we or we can’t or what if dissolving like cotton candy in the rain. His voice, his scent, his mere presence are so alpha, and my instincts override every iota of common sense I have. Less than ten minutes ago, I was sure I was about to lose my job, but now I’m bent over a desk and aching for Logan’s hands to touch me, use me, spank me, whatever he wants.
Whack-ass omega shit or not, I can’t deny the way Logan makes me feel. Ever since that first day when I went down to tell him off, the sexual chemistry between us has been bubbling closer and closer to the surface. Despite all my attempts to brush it off or explain it away, it was only a matter of time before we boiled over. And hearing him talk like this only confirms that the attraction hasn’t been one-sided.
As Logan’s fingers trail over my thighs, I wiggle my ass, which is invitation enough for him to spank me twice more with the hardest blows yet. There’s a pause, and I think it’s over, so I try to push up so I can stand. But his grip tightens on the back of neck, and he pushes my face harder into the desk.
“Where do you think you’re going, baby girl? We’re just getting started. I told you there’d be consequences, didn’t I? I’m going to ask you my questions again, and you’re going to answer them, addressing me properly and without lying this time. Do you understand?” he asks, a little more under control now, but not by much.
I nod as much as I can, practically drooling onto his desk calendar. He purrs for a moment as his calloused hand rubs over the inflamed curve of my ass.
“Is it just Ace, or are the others involved?” he starts.
I swallow, trying to keep my head. But it gets increasingly difficult the closer his fingers get to my dripping core. “I’ve only fucked Oli and Eli so far... Daddy,” I say, testing out the honorific and bracing for the spank just in case I’m wrong.
“Good girl. Why not Spencer?” he pushes, fingers now deliberately tracing the soaked edges of my panties, demonstrating the other side of the punishment coin.
“He and I have... history.” I’m not sure if I want to get into my trauma when I’m ass up in front of a guy playing with my cunt like it’s his personal fidget toy.
Logan growls low in his throat, two hard spanks falling onto my ass. I arch my back, crying out in pain. He doesn’t stop with two, though the ones after aren’t as harsh.
“Daddy, please! I’m sorry!” I babble, my mind going fuzzy at the edge.
He stops and purrs, rubbing away the hurt as I try to catch my breath. I shiver, my whole body hot and cold at the same time. I’m not sure how far this game is going to go, if he’s going to stop once he gets his answers. We’ve crossed a threshold, and now that I’ve had a taste, my instincts are screaming for more, more, more . And that scares me more than anything Logan has said or done. Throwing caution to the wind is not me, but this alpha makes me want to be reckless, to jump and wait for him to catch me.
His scent settles over me like a weighted blanket, and I have to struggle to keep my eyes open. My thoughts are hazy around the edges, and it takes effort to keep myself tethered to the ground. I’ve only ever gone to what Oli calls “sub-space” a few times, and I don’t like it. The loss of control, the vulnerability it brings, is not what I need right now.
But try telling that to my omega side. That bitch is ready to melt like butter beneath Logan’s extremely talented palm. Especially when his fingers on the back of my neck find every knot and ball of tension, massaging them as he draws me back from the edge of panic.
“Daddy’s got you, baby girl. Just one more question, and then your punishment is over, okay? Can you do one more for me?” Logan coos, a transformation from the nearly feral tone from earlier.
Sniffling a little, I nod. He doesn’t chastise me for not answering verbally, which I’m grateful for. I have a feeling I’m going to have a hard time sitting through tonight’s game as is.
“If I would have kissed you in Nashville when we were in the elevator, would you have let me take you to bed?” he asks with a strange vulnerability I wasn’t expecting.
“Yes, Daddy,” I answer. There’s no hesitation at all.
“Do you want me to fuck you now?”
Hearing the desire dripping from his words gives me a rush of primal satisfaction. This powerful alpha is practically begging for more, and that knowledge makes me bold.
I smirk to myself. “You said there was only going to be one more question, Daddy,” I fire back, trying not to sound too triumphant.
He chuckles and gives me another playful spank, none of his earlier ferocity behind it. I jump and whimper, my pussy practically throbbing. He lets me stand and turn around, looking up into his face. Eyes darting to every corner of my features, he’s studying me, and I just give him a smile. He doesn’t stop me as I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. It’s brief, but still knocks the breath out of me.
“Tori...” he whispers, clutching my waist to bring me flush with his body again.
Something hard pokes into my belly, and it makes me whine. I let my head fall back as I nod, almost boneless with endorphins that have me ready to release any remaining control over my raging hormones. “Yes, Daddy. I want you to fuck me now.”
He nips at my exposed throat before wrapping his arms around my waist and ribs, lifting me with ease until I can wrap my legs around his trim hips. We’re kissing again as he moves us back to his couch, laying me down on the surprisingly comfortable cushions and settling into the cradle of my hips. My hands move, tugging desperately at the material of his polo. He bites my lower lip in warning, but I don’t care. I need to feel his skin, to see those beautiful tattoos in person. Eventually, he pulls away and looks at me sternly. Giving him a coy smile, I reach up to take my breasts in each hand, massaging them while maintaining agonizing eye contact.
“Oh, you are quite the little brat for Daddy. Trying to take, take, take. But that’s not how this works, baby girl.”
I gasp as his hand darts out, gathering both of my wrists in his massive palm and pushing them into the cushion above my head. His other hand pushes up my skirt again, leaving me exposed. Then something’s looped around my wrists and cinches tight, and when I try to pull my hands down, I don’t get more than an inch before I have to stop. I look up and my jaw drops as I realize it’s one of Logan’s ties.
“I’m gonna wear that during tonight’s game, baby girl. So every time the cameras are on me, you’ll remember this,” he says, sitting back on his heels as he removes his shirt.
I look down from the silk and openly gawk at his incredible chest. He hasn’t let himself go since he stopped playing, with washboard abs and an Adonis belt I want to lick, following the line below his waistband. His hands are on my hips, pulling off my thoroughly ruined panties and sticking them in his back pocket.
“Should I bring those out with me? Just to get under their skin?” he asks as his hands massage my thighs again, moving closer to my core by the second.
I shake my head, panic resurfacing. “No, Daddy, please. I don’t—” I cut myself off, swallowing hard.
God, I didn’t even consider what the boys are going to think when I tell them about this meeting. Will they hate me? We mentioned exclusivity, but there were never any promises made regarding seeing anyone else while we’re together. And they seemed okay with Logan when it was brought up during our Christmas discussion. Talking about something, however, isn’t the same as actually doing it, so their attitudes might be different when faced with reality. Or given the circumstances, they might not take me and my feelings for their coach seriously. Are they going to think I slept with Logan to keep our secret? What if–
My train of thought explodes into a million billion pieces as Logan roughly shoves two fingers into my cunt, and I gasp as he doesn’t give me a moment to adjust. He finds my sweet spot almost immediately, spearing it over and over with merciless thrusts. I’m not so much climbing toward my climax as rocketing, my pulse thundering in my ears as I try desperately to catch my breath. But then, just as suddenly as it started, Logan pulls away, leaving me aching and hollow. He looks down at me as he licks his fingers clean, his other hand moving to undo his belt. But his eyes are locked with mine, that possessiveness returning and making me shiver.
“Your boys can fight over you all they want. Hell, I might be inclined to watch them share you, just to make sure they’re fucking you like you deserve. But when it’s just the two of us, there’s no one else, understand? You are my baby girl, my sweet little fuck toy to play with. If you want to play games, whether that be back talking, or teasing, or whatever bratty thing your ingenious mind can come up with, we can play games. But I don’t lose, Victoria.”
Feminism? Who’s she? Never heard of her. My instincts crow smugly, overriding any objections I might have over the language Logan is using.
My heart hammers with every word, the walls of my pussy still fluttering as I come down from my near orgasm. I nod, transfixed as he slides his belt free from the loops with one hand, folding the leather over once before leaning down toward me. I realize my mouth is still hanging open when he presses the strap against my tongue, a single finger under my chin lifting my jaw to bite down on it.
“Don’t drop Daddy’s belt, okay? Or next time, I might have to show you another use for it,” he warns, sitting back.
Next time? He wants to do this again? The implications wash over me, the loudest of which is, God, I fucking hope there’s going to be a next time , but I can’t digest or unpack any of them as Logan unbuttons and unzips his slacks and extracts his cock. My jaw slackens for a split second, but I recover before I drop the belt, my eyes wide as I watch him stroke it, the light catching on several steel balls along the underside. I count them and nearly faint as I get to four pairs, with about an inch between them and plenty of space on either side.
A fucking Jacob’s Ladder.
“Have you ever fucked someone with these before?” Logan asks, fingers spreading the pre-cum from his tip down the shaft and around the piercings.
Shivering for a whole different reason now, I shake my head. He chuckles and gathers some of my cream from between my folds. I moan low behind the makeshift gag, eyes rolling back. When he pulls away, I look up and flush hot, realizing he’s spreading my slick up and down his thick cock. Logan leans in and guides his tip to my entrance, holding himself above me as he looks into my eyes.
“You spit out the belt, and we stop, okay, baby girl?” he mutters, very serious all of a sudden.
He’s giving me an out, I realize. A parachute cord out of this wild encounter. But I’m too close to the ground, and I am dying to crash into him at full speed.
I nod eagerly, trying to wiggle my hips to get him where I need him. But his fingers bite into my flesh, pinning me to the couch with not an inch of space. With a simple glare, his eyes forbid me from looking away. Even when he rolls his hips, thrusting shallowly, I don’t even dare to blink, entranced by how his irises seem to glow around his pupils. I’m so hypnotized that I jump when I feel the first piercing against my inner walls, followed quickly by the second before he pulls out.
I moan out a series of curse words, all of them muffled by the belt. The drags of his piercings as he pushes in and slides out are like little zaps of additional euphoria. I didn’t know the pleasure points existed before he touches them with those steel balls, the rest of his cock stretching me perfectly. I’m nearly cross-eyed by the time I feel his swollen knot against my outer lips.
“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” Logan breathes, leaning down and kissing my lower lip as it protrudes out from under the belt. “Ready, baby girl?”
I nod. “Yeph, mmadmmy,” I try, the honorific horribly distorted around the belt.
He purrs deep in his chest, so hard I can feel the vibrations through his piercing. I suck in hard through my nose, glad for the leather to muffle my scream as he sets a brutal pace. I’m already so close, but the new sensations of the piercings bring me right up to the edge, ready to topple over with the slightest breeze.
“That’s right. You take Daddy’s cock so well, baby. You want to come, don’t you? You want to come all over Daddy.”
I’m shaking again, nodding so hard I’m sure my head is about to fall off as my teeth dig into Logan’s belt. I want to touch him, to feel the way his muscles move under his skin as he fucks me into the couch. To see if his salt-and-pepper hair is as soft as I imagine it is. I crave him in a way I don’t know how to wrap my mind around it. I need his roughness, his commands, his approval. I want to be his baby girl, to be his perfect little fuck toy. My throat burns to say the words, but I can’t drop the belt. Where has this desperation come from?
“If you can hold yourself back, I’ll give you my knot, sweet girl. Do you want your Daddy’s big alpha knot?” he pants, sweat beading on his forehead.
I nod before I can think better of it, my body tensing already as I close my eyes to focus. He purrs again, and I whimper, tears burning at the corners of my eyes.
“That’s it. You can do it. Show me what a good girl you are, baby. I’m close, so close for you. Just a little longer,” he encourages, sitting up slightly.
He lifts my hips off the couch, pulling me down on his pierced dick as he thrusts in, each stroke teasing my entrance with his knot. I’m sweating like a sinner in church, ready to be baptized anew on this hedonistic altar. A sacrifice to a lustful god, with no thoughts other than obedience to my alpha’s commands. My stomach aches, my chest tight as I try to breathe. I’m losing my grip on my control, and on reality.
“Fuck, yes! Come!” Logan snarls, a primal growl taking over as he thrusts once more, this time deeper than ever.
As an omega, my body was made to welcome an alpha’s knot. The stretch is as natural as breathing, my cunt relaxing just enough to allow the swollen base of his cock inside before clamping down hard, preventing him from pulling back. The burn and fullness barrel into me, and I’m falling off the cliff. My whole body convulses with wave after wave of intense release, burning hot as Logan shoots load after load deep inside me.
I’m floating above my body as Logan reaches down and removes the belt from my mouth, then and releases my hands, his muscular arms sliding under my torso and gathering me to his chest. He shifts, making me moan as another wave of pleasure crashes over me until he settles back on the couch with me in his lap. Resting my head against his chest, I close my eyes and listen to his strong, steady heartbeat.
“If it wasn’t clear, I have no intention of telling anyone about what I know, Victoria,” Logan murmurs in my ear once my breathing has calmed down.
“Well, I should hope not,” I mutter against his chest, squeezing my inner muscles for emphasis.
Chuckling, Logan grabs a handful of my ass and squeezes playfully. “There she is.”
I sit back a little, looking at Logan’s soft, relaxed smile, cocking my head to the side. My head is telling me to cut and run, that getting involved with yet another co-worker is just asking for trouble. However, everything else within me eases into how right it feels to have Logan’s knot inside me, his hands stroking my hair and his chest vibrating with his purr.
“I’m sorry if that was too intense. I usually try to talk to my partners before we play like that. But with you, it just felt…”
“Natural,” I finish, picking up when he trails off. “And I’m okay. I’m used to intense.”
Logan nods, eyes unfocused for a moment as his hand settles on my collarbone, his thumb absently rubbing over the hollow of my throat. But before I can figure out why, he comes back, his eyes focusing on my face.
“We should have a full talk about the intense stuff, though. Because I don’t want this to be a one-time thing, if it wasn’t abundantly clear,” Logan says, voice dropping seriously.
A ball of tension in my gut I didn’t even realize was there unfurls, a relieved sigh falling from my lips as I nod. It should scare the hell out of me how strong my feelings are for Logan, but if anything, I’m glad that it’s out in the open now. And to know he’s right there with me is reassuring in a profound way.
“And we should also talk to the boys, so we can figure out a plan going forward. Because if anyone else had seen what I saw…”
Logan trails off, but he doesn’t need to finish his sentence. I shiver, and this time it isn’t from pleasure. I’m not looking forward to their reactions to the news that Logan and I finally acted on the chemistry between us, but keeping it a secret will only end badly. If I want my relationships with all the alphas in my life to work, I need to be honest and not delay the inevitable.
“I’ll call the boys to my place tonight after the game,” I reply with a frown.
Logan pulls me toward him and kisses my forehead before resting his own against it. “Good girl. I promise we’ll figure this out, for us, and for the boys, too,” he says, his calm confidence returning.
There’s a not insignificant part of me, the one I had to develop to protect myself over the last six years, that wants to rattle off all the ways this could go wrong. But, as it is becoming easier and easier to do these days, I push that part of me aside and simply allow myself to believe him.