Chapter 13
POV: Logan
The hostess led us to a table tucked into the corner—dim lighting, candles flickering between us, soft jazz in the background. Intimate without being obvious. Romantic without trying too hard.
I watched Suzy take it all in, her blue eyes dancing over the space like she wasn’t sure she belonged here. Like she didn’t know she was the most stunning thing in the room.
I pulled out her chair. She raised an eyebrow. “Chivalry, huh?”
I smirked. “Don’t get used to it.”
She laughed softly, shaking her head, and I swear I could’ve sat there just watching her laugh all night.
We ordered—she went with the risotto, I took the steak—and then I flagged the sommelier.
“I’ll bring the wine list,” he said.
I glanced at Suzy. “No need. Red, smooth, something that pairs with good conversation.”
Her lips curled. “Trying to impress me, Dr. Kaiser?”
“Trying to follow orders, actually.” I leaned back in my chair. “You said you weren’t a party girl. You’re a wine and couch kind of woman.”
She blinked, then laughed. A real one this time. “Oh my God, you remembered that?”
“Of course I did.”
The waiter poured the wine, and I lifted my glass. “So we’ve got the wine part handled. Couch can come later.”
She choked on a sip, then covered her mouth, laughing. “You’re way funnier than I thought you’d be.”
“I’m not,” I said, my voice low. “You just bring it out of me.”
She stared at me for a beat, her smile faltering just slightly—like her heart stuttered. Like mine had been since she stepped out in that dress.
There was a silence then. Not awkward. Not forced.
Just full.
Heavy with all the things we weren’t saying yet.
Her foot brushed against mine under the table. A soft accident that didn’t feel accidental.
“So,” she said, “do you always take women out to expensive restaurants to impress them?”
I shook my head. “I don’t date.”
“That’s… blunt.”
“It’s the truth.”
“And yet here we are,” she said softly.
“Yeah,” I said, my gaze locked on her lips. “Here we are.”
The food came, but we barely touched it. Every glance between us was longer, hotter. Her tongue darting out to taste the wine, the way her fingers played absently with her necklace, the way her legs crossed and uncrossed under the table…
I was unraveling.
By dessert, I was done pretending to be unaffected.
Her laughter had turned into something softer, more intimate. Her voice was a low hum, smoky with wine and warmth. And her eyes… they weren’t just looking at me anymore—they were inviting me in, daring me closer.
Under the table, her foot brushed mine again—this time lingering. Testing. Teasing.
So I made my move.
I slid my foot onto the rung of her chair and pulled it closer. Just an inch. Just enough.
Her breath hitched.
My hand dipped beneath the tablecloth, fingers brushing the hem of her dress. Slowly, I pushed it higher, the fabric slipping up over her thigh until my palm met bare skin. Warm. Soft. Fucking perfect.
She tensed—but didn’t stop me. She leaned into it, just slightly. Her knee tilted outward, her thigh meeting my hand with trust and quiet fire.
God, my girl.
Across the table, I reached for her hand, letting our fingers brush—tentative at first. But she curled hers into mine without hesitation.
“I’ve already seen your place,” I said, my voice low and sure. “It’s time you see mine.”
She blinked, caught between breath and heat. “Logan…”
My hand on her thigh moved higher, slow and deliberate.
She sucked in a sharp breath, her chest rising. But her legs didn’t close. Her eyes didn’t break from mine.
Her fingers tightened around mine.
“Let’s go,” she whispered.
And just like that, the cord between us snapped—tension erupting into something dangerous, hungry, and inevitable.
I tossed the card onto the table without checking the total. I couldn’t have cared less.
All I knew was that I needed her.
And she was already mine.
The silence between us wasn’t empty.
It was pulsing. Thrumming.
She sat in the passenger seat, legs crossed, fingers brushing her knee, her eyes flicking to me every few heartbeats. I felt each one like a strike of lightning under my skin.
I’d never driven home with someone and felt like my grip on the steering wheel was the only thing stopping me from pulling over and kissing her breathless against the hood. But that’s exactly where I was—with Suzy.
The red dress she wore should be illegal. It hugged every curve, slid up just high enough to distract, and dipped just low enough to drive me mad. And the heels? Jesus. The sound of them clicking on my floors would haunt me for the rest of my life.
By the time I pulled into the driveway, I was barely holding on.
I parked and turned to her.
“This is it,” I said quietly.
She smiled, soft and knowing. “Looks like a place for a man who works too much.”
I huffed a laugh. “That’s because it is.”
But when she stepped out of the car and into my space, all I could think was—this is what the house has been missing.
Her.
The moment the door clicked shut behind us, I turned. She was already taking in the space, her eyes scanning the clean, modern lines of my living room. Her fingers brushed the edge of the marble counter. My house had never felt warmer.
And she hadn’t even touched me yet.
“Nice place,” she said softly.
“Thanks,” I replied, my voice low. “But you’re the only thing I want to look at tonight.”
She turned at that—eyes wide, lips parted.
I crossed the room in two strides and stopped just inches from her. “I can’t stop thinking about kissing you.”
Her breath caught. “Then why are you still thinking?”
That broke me.
My hand went to her cheek, the other to her hip. I angled her chin and kissed her like I’d wanted to since that damn hallway.
Soft, then not soft.
Slow, then ravenous.
She made this sound—barely a whimper—and it shot straight to my spine. Her hands gripped my shirt, pulling me closer, and I backed her toward the nearest wall like I couldn’t get enough. Because I couldn’t.
Not even close.
The feel of her curves pressed to me, the way her tongue slid against mine, how her thigh brushed mine as she shifted—every second was a new kind of torture.
I kissed her like I needed her to breathe.
And when she moaned into my mouth, I broke away, panting.
“Suzy…” I said her name like a curse and a prayer all in one. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“Logan,” she whispered, eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare.”