Fuck it. I took her breast in hand—inside her sweater, and groaned at the feel of her. Holy shit, she was perfect. Not too big. Just enough to fill my hand.
“Delaney,” I said against her throat.
“More,” she demanded. “God, Logan, more.”
I rubbed over her nipple with my thumb, flicking it back and forth until she gripped my hair and tugged. My lips left her neck only to be met with her mouth.
This kiss was hot, wet, and demanding. I only took her mouth harder as I realized she was the best I’d ever had, and I hadn’t even really had her. I kept working her nipple as she moved her hips over mine—
“Whoa! Okay! I’ll...uh…”
We stilled as a voice broke through the haze, our breaths ragged as we breathed into each other, our mouths barely parted.
I looked over Delaney’s shoulder to see Quinn standing about ten feet away, covering her eyes.
“It’s Quinn,” I whispered to Delaney.
She nodded. “Give me just a second, Quinn.”
“This is so not filing!” Quinn retorted as she turned and walked away.
Delaney groaned and rested her forehead against my shoulder. “That did not just happen.”
“Which part?” I asked as I slid my hand out of her sweater. “The kiss or the getting caught?”
“Both,” she grumbled, shaking her head without looking up.
I buttoned her sweater. “I will definitely not tell you that the kiss didn’t happen. Damn, Delaney, that was—”
“No!” she slid backward, and I caught her just before she would have landed on her ass. She got her feet under her and backed away with wide eyes and a wagging finger. “No. No. No. That wasn’t anything. Don’t finish that sentence. We’re friends!”
“Delaney!” I stood, then realized I couldn’t chase after her in my current state without causing every woman in the library to call the cops on me.
“No! Nope! No!” she repeated as she reached the cart. Then she snatched the book and held it to her chest as she smoothed her hair with the other. “You stay there. What the hell, Logan? It’s like you’re catnip or something!”
My lips turned up at the accusation. “And you’re a cat?”
“Shut up! No talking. Just close that mouth. Those lips. Shit! Your book is on the counter downstairs. Get it. Don’t forget it. Just forget this!” She spun and walked away with shaky steps, I noted with a little male satisfaction.
“Delaney!” I called out again, only to stop and put the cart in front of me when a couple walked by the aisle.
“Go fly! Text or something!”
She disappeared down the next row and left me standing with a throbbing hard-on in the middle of the World War II section.
I glared at the book on the end that read, Awaken the Sleeping Giant.
“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”
Fuck. That kiss. Delaney. Was I ever going to be able to look at her again without remembering exactly how right she felt under my hands?
What the hell had we just done?
6
Delaney
I stared at my cell, contemplating a text for the fourteenth time that night—the first night Logan had been back in Charleston since...the kiss. Every time I reached to type the words, my mind would spin and whirl.
Logan’s strong fingers biting into my hips with the perfect amount of pressure—the exquisite place between total dominance and pure submission. His lips, hungry and giving and hot. The way he tasted, like heat and spice and something sweet. Something I could easily be addicted to. And the way he’d made me feel as he perched me over his lap?
Fucking beautiful.
Powerful.
Treasured.
God, the man had sparked awake nerve-endings I thought were long dead.
Heat licked the edges of my skin, and I set my cell down on my kitchen counter. I turned my back toward it, glancing inside my fridge but ultimately closing it.
He’s not in there.
I missed him.
But after the kiss we’d shared…What did it make us now? Had we ruined our friendship by crossing that line? Had I with the way I’d bolted on him in an awkward chaotic retreat? But I hadn’t known what else to do. The idea of losing him from my life because of a kiss had terrified me.
Oh, but what a delicious line it had been.
I’d never been kissed like Logan had kissed me.
The mere memory of it made me lightheaded.
And I hated to admit it, but I wanted more.
Which was bad. Because he’d told me not two moments before he’d kissed me that he wanted someone to want him for him…not what he could offer them. And those expert lips and that body were definitely part of those offerings.
I sucked in a sharp breath, desperate to calm my nerves.
I hated the idea of never kissing him again, but I hated the idea of losing him entirely from my life even more.
I nodded to myself, resolved, and scooped up my cell.