“No. I didn’t decide it. You did. The moment you kissed me. I thought I would give you a little more time, some space to realize this, but I changed my mind.”
I made a strangling sound. “Oh?”
“About ten minutes ago when I saw that asshat sitting next to you and looking at you like you were his next meal.” He leaned in, forcing me to grab the stairwell wall and arch back from him. “I wanted to fuck him up and then throw you over my shoulder.” One corner of his mouth lifted, but there was no humor in the play of his lips. “You’ve turned me into a caveman. I’ve never acted this way before.” His eyes looked almost bleak right then. Like he didn’t want to feel this way. I could relate. “You. Me. We’re the real thing, Pearls.” His eyes gleamed in the shadows of the stairwell, willing me to see that, too.
I just couldn’t. The idea of us . . . it was too wrong . . . too crazy.
Shaking my head, I shoved at his chest. His hand locked around my wrist, fingers circling my bones completely, stopping me from pushing him away.
Feeling slightly panicked, I brought my other hand from behind me and shoved harder at him. The momentum sent me falling back on the stairs and he followed, coming over me, one hand circling around my back to soften my fall against the steps.
His knees settled on either side of my hips. I was enveloped in his hardness, in the beer-laced scent of him.
Suffocation by Logan Mulvaney wouldn’t be a bad way to go. The giddy, absurd thought fed my panic and edged me into hysteria. I hit him in the chest with my free hand.
He removed his hand from my back to grab that, too. Now both my hands were trapped between us.
“Let me go,” I growled, tugging on my hands. “Or I’ll . . .” My voice faded as I glared up at his shadowy shape.
I didn’t know what I’d do. I knew what I wanted to do and that scared the hell out of me. Every inch of me buzzed with an achy hunger. I actually hurt for him, but I couldn’t surrender to this. Not again. Not after he just proclaimed me his girl. That would be like me agreeing with him.
He pushed his face close to mine, his voice fierce as he rasped, “You’ve slapped me. Thrown beer on me. I think I can take whatever you’ve got. Let’s have it.”
“Let go of me,” I repeated, my mind working, not about to give up the battle. It suddenly felt life-or-death. We were not a thing. We couldn’t be.
“All right.” His hands loosened, but didn’t release me entirely. His fingers glided from my wrists and up my arms, a feather-light, sensual stroke. He rounded my shoulders and skimmed down to my collarbone. With a flick of his fingers, he brushed back the hair from my shoulders, exposing my neck to his descending mouth, and I realized he had changed his approach. He was seducing me now. And this was so much worse. So much more threatening because I couldn’t resist this Logan. The past had already taught me that.
Heart pounding, I grabbed a fistful of his short hair and yanked, pulling his head down hard with the motion, keeping that tempting mouth of his away from me.
A groan rumbled out from him, and before I knew it he had his fist in the back of my hair, too. He didn’t hurt me. He simply held me prisoner, his unyielding fingers tangled in my hair, trapping me as much as I trapped him, our bodies twisted up in each other. And then I felt it, the hard ridge of him against the inside of my thigh. Need clenched ahold of me, throbbing between my legs.
Our breaths crashed hoarsely between us, and I knew what was coming next if I didn’t get away. I released his hair and flipped over, ignoring his fingers still tangled in my hair. I’d leave hair behind to escape. As I scrambled up the steps, he let go of my hair, but then both his hands came down on my waist. He hauled me back with a growl.
I flipped over again, ready to hit him, but then his mouth was on mine and it was my turn to groan. He kissed me hard and I kissed him back just as savagely, my legs wrapping around him. The struggle of moments before became another struggle. A race toward getting each other off. We unleashed on each other. My teeth sank into his bottom lip. He made a snarling sound and I released his lip, licking it and sucking it inside my mouth until I felt him shudder against me.
The creak of the door only dimly registered. The flood of light against the backs of my eyelids only tapped at my awareness. I was so intent on the feast of Logan’s lips.
It was the sound of my name that yanked me to harsh reality.
Gasping, Logan and I broke apart and I stared in horror at the trio standing framed in the doorway.
Chapter 17
LOGAN,” PEPPER BREATHED HIS name like she had just caught him in the middle of a criminal act.
“Should have known.” Annie crossed her arms over her chest.
“What. The fuck?” Reece choked, glaring at Logan like he was the one responsible for this scenario. Like I wasn’t an equal participant. It made me think of Logan’s accusation that people were always doing things to me. That I was just the recipient of others’ actions. The notion didn’t sit well with me.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I said, wondering what that even meant . . . and why I was trying to offer explanations.
Reece continued glaring at his brother with his hands curling and uncurling at his sides. “You couldn’t have kept it in your pants just once? Huh, Logan?”
I flinched. Pepper put a hand on Reece’s arm as though restraining him from saying more. I felt Logan stiffen beside me.
“I’m going upstairs,” I declared, not about to endure an inquisition. I had to explain my choices to my mother. Not my friends. Standing, I looked at Pepper and Reece. “Was there something you wanted to see me about . . . ?”
“I just stopped in to check on the bar and heard there was . . . an altercation between you and Logan.” Reece looked back at Logan, his gaze sharp with disapproval. “Now I understand the situation.”
“I doubt you do,” Logan shot back, his features set with annoyance.
“Oh, yeah. Then explain it to me, little brother. What am I missing here?” Reece waved a hand at us like the sight explained everything.
“It’s not like you think,” Logan returned.
I wished everyone would simply stop talking like this was something that even warranted a conversation. I was an adult. For that matter, so was Logan. What we did and didn’t do together was no one’s business.
Who are you kidding? You don’t want people talking about it because Logan doesn’t fit into your idea of who you are . . . or rather who you should be.