“And here?” I ask breathlessly and offer up the other.
“Yes.” He gives equal attention to the other breast. Then he’s lifting my shirt and trailing kisses down my abdomen.
“And I’ve missed your belly,” he murmurs against my skin. “And your hips.”
I raise them so he can pull down my shorts and panties.
“And how can I forget this?” His mouth hovers over me, andI can feel the warm air brushing against the most intimate parts of me. “Your super sexy, desirable…”
I’m quivering beneath him.
“Knee,” he finishes. He dips his head down and bathes my knee with his tongue.
I squirm in protest before accepting his ministrations. It feels unexpectedly good. Meanwhile, his fingers lightly caress my thigh, edging closer and closer to where I want him to touch me the most. Then the hand cruelly dances back and starts the process again.
“Logan,” I complain.
“Sorry, you’re right.” He turns his head and begins pressing open-mouth kisses to the other knee.
I laugh. “You bad, bad man.”
“I learn from the best.” He nips the edge of my knee.
“Baby, please,” I plead. “Enough. I need you.”
He stills.
I lift my head. “What’s wrong?”
“That’s the…” His voice sounds hoarse, and he takes a second to clear his throat. “That’s the first time you’ve called me baby. In seven years.”
“Yeah?” I ask softly. “Well, what are you going to do about it, baby?”
His answering kiss is scorching.
I can’t wait any longer. I reach for the condom on the side table. He presses me down into the mattress. Then he slowly slides into me.
It’s the most exquisite torture. I’m squirming, gasping, my limbs unable to stay still. It’s too much, too good. I’m desperate, writhing my whole body against his.
“Baby, don’t stop,” I plead.
“Never. I’m here with you,” he promises.
His words spark a flush of pleasure, and I detonate. I’m crying out, and he’s kissing me, tasting my ecstasy on my lips. It seems to trigger his release, and he groans and shudders above me until his body is wrung out.
For a moment, we’re both quiet except for our soft panting.
Then we’re kissing again. One bright flame in the undulating dark.
Thirty Five
Logan
One Year Later
Clunker sails down the highway toward Sagebrush. Her bulky body careens around the close cliff edges and rocky walls like the fearless, clunky whale of a vehicle she is.
I’m lounging in the passenger seat, watching Sierra languidly as she muses about her favorite climbs. My body feels sore in the best way. Hiking the entire Grand Canyon rim to rim is no joke.
