His eyes darken, heat sparking behind them. “Good boy.”
My pulse stutters at the praise. My legs feel shaky, and I’msitting down.
Logan shifts forward, closing the space between us, his hand ghosting over my jaw but not touching. “Safe word?”
“Uh…” I blink a little shocked at the question. “Pineapple?”
His smile quirks. “Classic. Mine’s ‘red.’ You use yours, everything stops. You don’t use it, I’m gonna take that as ayesevery step of the way. Understood?”
“Yeah.”
“Say it.”
“I understand.”
Logan finally leans in close enough that I can feel his breath ghost over my lips. “Last chance,” he murmurs, voice like silk and danger. “If I kiss you, we’re not going slow. You sure you want this?”
And I am.
Even if I don’t have the words.
I nod again. But this time, I manage to say it. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
His gaze lingers on me for a beat longer, like he’s giving me one final chance to changemy mind.
I don’t.
So he moves.
Fast.
One hand curls behind my neck, the other slides around my waist, pulling me in as his mouth crashes into mine—hungry, claiming, nothing like the heat-of-the-moment kiss on the rink.
This isn’t a confused moment.
This isn’t impulsive.
This isintentional.
Logan kisses like he means to ruin me.
And I let him.
My hands fist in the fabric of his shirt, anchoring myself to him as his tongue slides against mine, coaxing and commanding all at once. I melt under it. Against it. Into it. My legs part instinctively when he shifts forward, angling my body and pressing me back into the couch like he already owns every part of me.
His grip tightens at my waist, and when he drags his lips down the side of my throat, I gasp.
“You like that?” he murmurs against my skin.
I nod, head tilting before I can even think about it.
He bites gently at my pulse point, then whispers, “Use your words, Todd.”
My name on his lips shouldn’t sound that good. But itdoes. Itreallydoes.
“I like it,” I admit, breathless, already craving everything he’s promised.
“Good boy,” he says again, and holyshit—my entire body reacts.
