Logan’s touch was far too distracting to trust—like the rest of him now.
“Drink your coffee,” she said, trying to remember the now clear-as-mud plan she’d had when she woke up.
Right.
She’d wanted to storm into his room.
And then she’d chickened out—which she was doing all over again right now.
A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he reached for the mug and slowly lifted it to his mouth. His eyes never left her face, so she did the only thing she could think of. She turned around and busied herself with setting breakfast on the table.
When she turned around again, Logan’s eyes were trained right where her butt had been.
“Breakfast?” she asked weakly.
“Nope.” He put his mug down. “What were you thinking about this morning? What got you up so early?”
“You,” she breathed. “And the other night.”
He nodded. “Maybe we should have talked about it yesterday.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I needed yesterday just the way it was. A breather in between…”
“In between what?”
Her past and her future. It wasn’t much. Any self-help expert would probably say she was rushing headlong into a mistake, but she didn’t need an expert to tell her what felt right. “Between grief and whatever comes next. I needed to take a moment before I kissed you again, because I wasn’t sure why we kissed in the first place. I thought maybe it was for the wrong reasons.”
“Before you kiss me again?” He leaned back against the counter, and her gaze dropped to his abs. Lower. Oh, God.
“If I came on too strong or something, I want to fix that. Your pace, for real.” He frowned. “But Tor, we can’t put the genie back in the bottle. I want you. I can’t hide that any longer.”
“I see that,” she whispered. In fact, she really couldn’t take her eyes off it.
Now who was objectifying who?
“He’s not going to bite.” He laughed. “Although I could. If you want me to.”
A little squeak slipped past her lips and she pressed them tighter together as she shook her head. No biting. Heat flooded through her at the idea of his teeth on her skin. Definitely…no biting. At all. Not even on her nipples, or her inner thighs, or…
He moved closer and she stepped back. He reached for her hand and she spun around. His back collided with hers and once again she was in his arms, his fingers grazing the line of skin along her belly where her tank only sort-of met her shorts.
She closed her eyes as he held her tight. “When you said you were weak for kissing me…”
“I’m sorry about that,” He murmured. “We got all mixed up at that point, didn’t we?”
“Maybe. I thought you meant it was too complicated, too much, thatIwas too much, and—”
“Never,” he growled, his breath sweeping across her temple. His mouth settled next to her ear. “You are perfect just exactly as you are. My only weakness was giving in to my feelings when you needed space.”
Her heart leapt. She didn’t want space. “What feelings?”
“I love you.” His palms spread wide against her sides. Her heart hammered hard in her chest, not wanting to imagine that the touch was possessive, but knowing it was—for better or for worse. “I love you, love you. With my heart and soul and all that shit.”
“Don’t go getting all romantic on me,” she said weakly, because even in his characteristically curt way, she knew what he meant—and it made her head spin.
“I didn’t want to stop the other day. I thought I should, so I did, because I always want to do right by you. But you gotta know it took every ounce of willpower I had. And going all day yesterday only hugging you a few times, that was torture for me.”
“Logan…”
