And it feels terrifyingly good to say out loud.
I step back long enough to toe off my shoes, and he does the same. Then he backs me toward the hallway, trying to steer the moment. Trying to take control.
I let him. For a few steps.
He pushes me gently against the wall outside the bedroom, lips barely grazing mine. “Bedroom,” he murmurs, like it’s an order.
I raise a brow. “Yeah?”
He nods, leaning in, trying to press his advantage again.
And that’s when I flip us.
One second, he’s crowding me against the wall; the next,Ihave him pinned there, my hands bracketing his wrists above his head, his breath catching in a quiet, surprised sound that goes straight through me.
His eyes darken instantly.
“Logan…” he says, voice dropping.
“What?” I ask, leaning in just enough that our noses brush. “You thought you were running this?”
He swallows, pupils blown wide. “I mean… I was trying.”
“Uh-huh.” I let my lips ghost over his. “And how’d that work out for you?”
A small, breathless laugh escapes him. “Not great.”
“Did you really think,” I murmur, sliding my hands down to his hips, “that I was going to let you push me around?”
His fingers curl in my hoodie. “I was hoping.”
There it is—the honesty in him that only shows when I’ve got him right where he wants to be.
I kiss him then, slow but deep, sliding one hand up to cup the back of his neck. His whole body melts into mine, like he can’t help it. His fingers dig into my hips; he’s trying to pull me closer even though we’re already pressed together.
I pull back just enough to smirk against his mouth. “You really don’t want control, do you?”
His exhale shudders. “Not with you.”
Something hot and possessive lights up low in my chest.
I take his jaw in my hand and tilt his face up to mine. “Good,” I whisper.
I step back, grip his hoodie, and tug him toward the bedroom. He follows instantly.
The moment we cross the threshold, he tries one last time to reclaim the upper hand—pushing me backward onto the bed, crawling over me with that cocky little smile.
“You sure about that?” he asks, hands sliding up my chest.
I let him believe it for a heartbeat. Then I grab his waist, flip him cleanly onto his back, and settle over him with all my weight braced on my elbows.
His startled gasp turns into a soft, helpless sound I feel everywhere.
“Logan,” he breathes, gripping my shirt.
I kiss him once before murmuring against his lips, “I told you. I’m in control.”
And the way his entire body arches into mine? Yeah. He loves it. The sound he makes when I pin him is enough to unravel every scrap of restraint I walked in with.
