“Okay,” I say softly.
“Yeah?”
“Let's see where this goes.”
His smile is brilliant, and then he's kissing me again, his mouth gliding over mine as if he's done this a thousand times. His fingers thread through my hair as his tongue traces the seam of my lips, demanding entrance, and I melt completely into him as he dives in.
This kiss is much different from the one in my kitchen. That was exploratory and tentative, a gentle hello. This is steamy, a claiming. This is Logan declaring what he wants: me. The firm brand pressing into my hip is a confirmation of his desire and I writhe against it, desperate for more. When his large hand closes over my sensitive breast, I moan into his mouth.
“Logan…” I love and hate the desperation in my voice as I arch against him, begging for more. He pulls me onto his lap, my legs straddling him and my core pressing against his hard length. When we finally break apart, our ragged breaths fill the silence between us. Logan rests his forehead against mine, his eyes closed.
“I've been wanting to do that for weeks,” he murmurs, his hand squeezing my flesh as he grinds his hips up. “And a lot more.”
“Me, too.”
“Can I do it again?”
I laugh. “Yes, please.”
His hand tangles in my hair, holding me in place as his lips and tongue work their magic spell on me. This kiss is slower and deeper. I lose track of everything except the feel of his lips on mine and the solid warmth of him pressed against me. My mindshort circuits as his hand drifts down to cup my ass, massaging it lightly.
Logan’s mouth breaks away and I moan as his mouth drifts down my neck, planting stinging kisses along the way. “Fuck, you’re driving me crazy. Heather, if we don’t stop soon, you’re gonna be staying the night, too.”
The temptation to let myself go and see where this goes is overwhelming and I can’t hold back a hiss as his teeth catch a tender spot on the inside of my breast. His fingers dig into my ass as he grinds up until we’re dry humping each other like horny teenagers.
With an agonized groan, he tilts his head back, eyes squeezed shut. “We should stop.” His hands flex against the globes of my ass as if in protest of his statement.
“Yeah.” The words are forced from my throat, but Logan’s right. The last thing we need to do is rush into a physical relationship with everything so new. It’s not just the two of us who would be affected. “We should.”
We hold each other, my head on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around me as the heat between us slowly dissipates. The string lights twinkle above us, and somewhere in the house, our girls are sleeping peacefully.
“I know we need some sleep, but could we stay like this a bit longer?” Logan's voice is soft, almost hesitant.
“Of course,” I murmur, melting at the gentle plea. What sane woman could possibly refuse?
And so we sit there, wrapped up in each other, talking about everything and nothing. He tells me more about his baseball career, the highs and lows, what it was like to have it end so abruptly. I tell him about building the library program, my hopes for the children's center, how proud I am of what Pelican Point has become.
Everything else slips away unnoticed. When I finally glance at my watch, I grimace at the late hour. “I have a busy day tomorrow. I should really get some sleep,” I say, reluctantly pulling myself free from our cozy cocoon.
“What time do you leave for work in the morning?” he asks as he walks me to my porch, his hand clasping mine like a lifeline.
“By eight. Amy and I have a planning meeting first thing. Just so you know, Cookie is usually up by six.”
He grunts. “Me, too. I’ll text you when we’re awake.”
“Okay.” I stop at my door, turning to him. “Logan, I?—”
He cuts me off with a kiss that steals every thought from my mind. His hand cups my face as he backs me gently against the support post. The kiss goes molten, overwhelming, and I gasp against his lips as my hands fist in his shoulders because nothing else exists except his mouth on mine and the way my body is forgetting how to stand.
Several minutes later, I float into my house, my lips still tingling, my heart full. The glow from the lights lining Logan's backyard spills into my dining room. They’re swaying in the breeze, and I think about my dog sleeping peacefully next to Violet, about the man who's somehow become essential to my happiness in just a few short weeks.
And for the first time in a long time, I let myself hope for a future I never thought I'd have.
Chapter 8
Logan
Ican't sleep.
