"You taste incredible," he grunts, licking me languidly as I come down from my second, maybe third, orgasm. I’ve honestly lost count at this point. He pulls away, wiping his soaking beard across the sleeve of his flannel. My eyes widen. He says nothing, just smirks as he pulls my bottoms up as though nothing happened. Standing, he kisses me again, thrusting his tongue into my mouth so I can taste myself on him.
God, he’s incredible. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my life. I almost allow myself to drag him back into me for round two, but then, he’s stepping away from me and shaking his head.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he grumbles.
“Like what?” I ask innocently.
“Like you want me to fuck you against the wall.” He reaches down and adjusts the unbelievably obvious hard-on. He gives his cock a firm squeeze as he stares at the wet patch on his pants, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “Fucking Hell, Shiloh.”
“What?” I murmur, just as enthralled by the sight as he is. Is it weird that I want to lick my cum from his thigh?
Logan growls, releasing his cock and grabbing my hand instead. “We have to go.Now.”
I barely have a chance to form a thought before I’m dragged through the Huxley Homes building, toward the front door. I open my mouth to object, my eyes darting around in search of my dog. Logan, once again, beats me to it, though.
“Porkchop! Truck!” he shouts, and sure enough, seconds later,mydog is bounding after us. Logan plucks my purse from the reception desk and passes it to me as he pushes through the front door.
When did that get there?
Yep. Definitely, woke up in an alternate reality. What is my life, and why am I allowing all of this?
He opens the door to his big, white truck that sits at a ridiculous height from the ground. Logan wordlessly lifts me up and deposits me in the passenger seat, as though I weigh nothing. My mouth gapes open in shock.
That’s new.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he grunts, his movements pausing.
Swallowing thickly, I murmur, “No one’s ever been able to lift me up like that before.”
Logan stares at me for a minute, a look of anger drowning out his previous contentment. His hand reaches up, and his thumb swipes across my cheek in a soft caress. “That’s not your fault, Babydoll. You were just with weak men before me.”
Bending over, he buckles me in, kisses my cheek like it’s a normal occurrence, and closes my door, leaving me speechless. My eyes dart all over the place in confusion. They land on the backseat. All the things I’d brought with me last night, pillows and duffle bags included, are stacked in a pile. My confusion deepens.
In the rearview mirror, I see him drop the hatch, bark the wordload, and again, my dog responds like Logan’s her new master. He slams the hatch shut, and hops in the driver’s seat. All the while, I stare in shock, unable to speak.
Logan flicks the radio on, turning it to a popular country station, and reaches over, wrapping his big hand around mine.
“Tell me where you live,” he demands. My eyes drop down to our joined hands as he gives mine a squeeze. My heart echoes the movement, and emotions well up in my eyes. I blink them back, completely confused and shocked by this strange turn of events. I genuinely have no clue what’s happening here, but my gut, my heart, and soulreallyfucking like it.
“Why?” I choke out, unsure what I’m referring to. Logan’s eyes dart to mine, once, then twice, before he focuses back on the road.
“You know why.” Again, I’m not sure what either of us is talking about. Does he mean my address? Or why this morning has gone down the way it has? I want to ask. I want to demand answers, but every question dies in my mouth as Logan’s thumb begins to rub the back of my hand in the single sweetest gesture I’ve ever received.
“Blossom Street. Number 232,” I murmur, a smile spreading across my face as I continue to watch his thumb make little swishesback and forth, back and forth.
Logan lifts our joined hands and kisses where he’d just been rubbing. His lips press in and hold firm as his eyes meet mine. “Thank you,” he says, his lips ghosting over my skin as he speaks.
Those words and the look in his gaze tell me everything I wanted to know but was too afraid to ask.
We weren’t talking about my address at all.
Chapter Nine
“Holyshit,”Iscreech,pushing past Logan and into the fuckinglakethat was once my living room. The small hole in the wall where the water had come from is now a gaping chasm of destruction. Instead of only my living room being wrecked, it’s now everything. “I don’t understand! He was supposed to turn it off!”
My booted feet splash through the inches of water as I make my way toward my kitchen, ignoring Logan’s shouts for me to come back. I can’t. I have to see how bad it is.
“Goddamnit, woman!” he barks, catching up with me in just a few short strides. “Stop before you hurt yourself.”