Page 161 of Chaos At Second Sight

I slipped under the duvet, welcoming the blanket hug. Logan followed, adjusting me until I was stretched across his chest, his heartbeat steady under my cheek.

I looked up at him. “So?”

“So…what?” His voice had already lowered.

“You know what.”

“Fine, I’ll tell you.” He opened his mouth…but then only kissed me, specifically my neck.

“Logan…” Maybe this had been his plan all along.

“Hmm?”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Mm-hmm.”

His mouth wandered lower, lingering on my chin.

Definitely his plan.

I couldn’t argue since, when I went to do so, his lips descended on me. One large hand traveled up to cradle my face, while the other caught the hem of my shirt.

Riiiiiip.

“My shirt!”

“It was Lachlan’s.”

I glared at him, but when his bare chest pressed against mine, so warm and so right, I put aside my lecture for later.

“Yvaine…” He uttered my name like a prayer. His lips found mine again, hungry but soft, lingering as though he couldn’t bear to pull away. I tasted his need, his pain.

Logan wasn’t the cheerful reindeer tonight. He was a man hurting.

There was agony in his expression, and as his mate, I needed to fill up that decade-sized hole his mother had left behind. I wanted to give him all the affection he’d been denied.

Maybe that was why he clung to me so desperately. He found reassurance in every kiss, every touch, every spark that passed between us.

“I’m here. I’m not leaving,” I whispered through our mind-link.

His musk wrapped around me, making me dizzy in a new way, clarity and fog blending together. I could see more of him—the wounds behind the arrogance, the loneliness behind the jokes, the boy hidden behind the man—but the intensity between us blurred everything again.

I didn’t know how long we’d been kissing.

“We still need to talk,” I reminded him.

He shook his blond head, mouth clamping onto my mark. “Nah.”

“Bully.” I tugged his hair until he looked at me. What a shock to see his signature smirk—not.

“Talk later. I need you now.” A husky sound rumbled from his throat. “Please, Bunny?”

His mouth on my mark, his body on mine, and the sparks wouldn’t be enough to convince me to postpone this important conversation he was avoiding. But that vulnerability, clear and raw in those silver eyes? Unacceptable.

Tonight, Logan wanted somewhere safe. Someone safe. To feel safe. And a part of that involved joking and smiling for him.

So I gave him just that.