I went right and he mimicked my movement, so I stepped left and he did the same, dancing to block my every maneuver. I huffed a heavy sigh—not because I wanted to escape, but because I wanted to wrap myself around him and beg him to have me right there. Instead, I stepped back.
“Fine, what do you want?” I crossed my arms over my chest, big-girl panties on tight, putting on my show.
“To see you smile, always.” His words were so sweet and sincere, and they mirrored the soft gaze in his eyes.
I pulled on the most contrived smile I could muster, my eyes squinting in the process. “Happy now?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. Have lunch with me.”
“Already ate.”
“A drink.”
“Not thirsty.”
“A kiss.”
“Never again.” With that, I was feeling proud, and moved to brush past him.
No such luck. He twirled me around to face him, then stepped into me. I stepped back, and he continued until my heel was pressed into the tile wall and my back was firmly against it. His hands rested against the wall on either side of my head, palms flat.
“Logan,” I breathed. His clean scent, with a hint of lime, filled my senses.
“Cassandra.” His voice was so soft, so tender and delicious, that my insides caved. “One date—that’s all I want. A real date.”
No reply left my mouth as I looked up into his piercing blue eyes. His thumb trailed across the back of my hand, which hung stiffly at my side.
“I won’t take no for an answer,” he added.
It had only been three days since the night he claimed a part of me. The heat pooling in my center agreed that was too long. I was a strong, empowered woman; I told myself to keep the performance going. This was a man who would bring me to my knees and abandon me there if I wasn’t careful. That thought alone helped hide my arousal.
But when the tip of his tongue darted out and glossed a thin line across his bottom lip, I forgot everything except for my desire to taste his flawless lips hovering so close to mine.
I saw it in his eyes when I finally looked up. I stared too long and obliviously, and he knew it.
“Forgive me.”
What?
Before I could ask, his lips were on mine, hard and demanding. I fought not to give in to it, balling my hands and locking them at my side.
Hard to get. That was my role now, but damn, was it difficult.
I wasn’t going to touch him. If I kept my hands to myself and focused on something—anything—other than how amazing he felt and tasted, then maybe he’d take a hint and release me. Give me a chance to regroup.
He pulled back just enough to murmur, “Please.”
Everything inside me exploded, with his need devouring both of us. I stood my ground and opened my mouth to protest, but Logan used it to his advantage and slid his tongue inside.
I was done. My hands flew up to his neck, tugging and grasping his hair, losing myself in his embrace. One arm was wrapped around my waist with his other hand on my cheek, holding me near. I couldn’t describe the emotions flurrying inside me—everything from passion, to need, to lust. I wanted to erase our past, making our lives easier.
It was I who finally found the strength to break the kiss. “Stop.”
He did so instantly.
Panting, I breathed out, “Your son is waiting with your ex.”
Thank God I could even think to speak, let alone find a valid excuse with the way my head was clouded from the passion that sparked between us.
He smiled and leaned back in, placing a tiny kiss on the tip of my nose, then stepped away, giving me breathing room.
“Natasha wanted to take him out alone for lunch. I agreed only on the condition that I’d bring him and wait here while they ate.”
“I thought she lived with you.”
“I allow her to stay in the guest house in the back with a few ground rules. We came to a compromise that she’d be able to stay there and see Oliver under supervision, as long as she understood that I was off limits completely. Until I figure out her game, I’d prefer to keep my eye on her, anyway.”
“Just your eye?” I scoffed.
“Don’t ever be jealous of her. I’m not interested, and that will never change.”
He stood in front of me, watching my every breath, waiting for my reply that never came. Instead, I focused on the other part of his statement—one that was equally surprising.
“Since when do you compromise, anyway?” I laughed.
“I’ve done so on rare occasion,” he replied, searching me. “Do you have anything in particular you’d like to compromise on?”
My brows pulled in. “Like what? You leaving me alone and me not kneeing you in the balls the next time you try to touch me?”
The corner of his lip curled up. “I was thinking more like you go on a date with me and I’ll stop pressing you into walls and beds—at least, until you’re ready.” I caught the gleam in his eye, testing me.
I hated to admit how much I liked him pressing me into things. I bit my lip, not pleased with my thoughts. I was going to have to deal with Logan in a new way if I wanted to keep my heart out of it and protected. A light flicked on in my head and I stepped forward, standing toe to toe with Logan, who stared down at me, intrigued.
“One date.” My pointer finger jabbed his chest. “My house, my rules. Tomorrow night. Deal?”
The excitement in his eyes could rarely be matched. He held out his hand for me to shake.
“Deal.”
He didn’t shake my hand when I held it out; instead, he brought it to his lips and placed a lingering, open-mouth kiss on my palm.
My eyelids closed on a sigh that stung my very center as his lips moved ever so slightly. I yanked my hand free, goose bumps flaring over every inch of my heated skin.
“Six sharp. If you’re late, don’t bother knocking.”
With a devilishly triumphant grin firmly in place over his lips, he stepped out of the way for me to walk past him, heading back to meet Hilary. If only he knew I had the same smile on my face.
Chapter Eighteen
Preparation
I'd hardly slept that night, imagining what it would be like to finally feel Logan inside me—giving in to our deepest hunger.
I awoke early, went for my morning jog with no sign of Logan, and returned home for a shower. I was anxious to get the day going, and as I stood in my kitchen, staring out to the backyard, sipping some orange juice, I caught sight of Oliver in his backyard.
He wasn’t alone. Natasha was at his side, helping him pack snow onto the front of a melting snowman. The smile on his face was hard to miss, and I had to admit Natasha looked equally happy.
Was there a chance she really just wanted her family back—to bond with her son and reconnect with Logan through sex, the only way most women did? The thought of her living in his backyard and bonding with their son left me conflicted, and only added to mission of the day—the day Logan and I would take the plunge and prove, once and for all, that we were better off friends.
With a thoughtful smile, happy for Oliver to have both his parents in his life, I set out to get dressed and start my day.
Hilary and I had spent the previous day shopping, and now there we were again. However, shopping for the perfect date accessories that would guarantee me the best sex of my life had me worried. Luckily, Hilary had it down to an art, and took the lead.