“I’m sorry,” he says softly, sounding so heartbreakingly genuine that tears threaten to return to my eyes again.
“It’s not your fault. I didn’t want to ruin the moment, but I didn’t want to lie either.”
“You don’t have to lie,” he says, the words making me bite back more truth than he could ever handle. “It’s amazing you survived.”
He has no idea.
“I flat-lined twice. Technically I died twice. Then I was reborn. At least that’s how I like to think of it.”
His eyes meet mine, and he slides his hand up my side as he leans forward. His lips capture mine, and his weight comes down from behind me. It’s another position I never thought I’d be comfortable in, but it’s so naturally effortless with him.
The kiss is reverent, soulful, and it actually means more than anything he could say right now. I don’t stop kissing him, even though the angle is awkward.
His hand slides around the fro
nt of my body, lifting my hips just enough. I moan into his mouth when I feel him pushing inside me, skin-to-skin. He slides in so easily, despite how tight the fit is. His hips rock, slowly pushing in and out, taking me as though he could fuck me all day.
And I’d let him.
His phone rings and rings, but he doesn’t stop. His lips never move from mine, and his hands grip my hips, moving a little faster. I’m the one to finally break the kiss so I can suck in a sharp breath as one of his hands slides around, finding my clit.
I rock against him as his pace quickens. He slides his knees under my hips, giving himself better leverage to push in harder, faster.
The phone doesn’t shut up, but we’re too lost in each other to stop. His hips stagger, losing the rhythm, and I know he’s close. Just as I think I’m not going to follow him over the edge, the orgasm comes out of nowhere, and I’m crying out his name before I can stop myself.
He jerks against me, squeezing my hip tightly with one hand, while his other hand continues to rule me, driving my orgasm on and on.
I collapse, and his hand finally stills, pinned between my body and the bed. He comes down on top of me, his body shuddering in the aftermath as he drags his lips over my shoulder.
“Your phone,” I say, panting once again.
I can run up five flights of stairs without my breathing changing at all, yet sex with Logan turns me into a sweaty, breathless mess.
“Let it ring. I have three hours before I’m back on duty.”
He kisses my shoulder again, and I grin against the pillow, feeling my eyes grow heavy.
“You’re perfect,” he says against my cheek as his lips brush a kiss there too.
“I wish,” I say softly, lifting his phone from the nightstand where it is. “Answer. It could be important, and I know you’re only not answering because of me. I won’t get mad.”
He groans, still inside me as he takes his phone. “That’s not the only reason I’m not answering. I’ll never answer my phone if I’m inside you. Not even I’m that much of a company man.”
I snort indignantly, then laugh into the pillow, feeling him smile against my cheek as he kisses it again.
He pulls out of me, and I clench my thighs together, already feeling the loss. And the mess. The mess I haven’t felt since…
I wait for the wave of nausea to wash over me.
I wait for the panic to seize me.
I wait for the buried memories to resurface and steal this moment away.
But it doesn’t happen.
Another grin curls my lips. He’s just healed another small piece of me.
If only he could make me think like a normal girl again, I might could be the perfect person he wants me to be.