He ran his tongue over his teeth. “You don’t need to ask. I’ll race you there.”
“We can walk.” She deliberately brushed up against him on the way to her bedroom. “I don’t want any stubbed toes slowing us down.”
He mostly slept upstairs, in the room next to Biyen’s. They had only managed a couple of quickies in the last week and hadn’t talked again about what it meant that they were messing around like this.
It meant a lot to him, not that he was sure how to say so. Or whether he should. He didn’t want to pressure her, but he did want her to know this wasn’t casual for him. In his mind, she was setting the pace, but they were definitely moving toward a life together.
His heart took a swerve as he fully accepted that. Sophie. Marriage. More kids, maybe? He had never imagined it for himself, but now it was something he saw very clearly. Thinking of it only made him want it more.
He watched her peel out of her T-shirt and drop the cutoff shorts she was wearing, then slip free of her bra and drop her plain, white undies.
“What’s wrong?” she asked as she pulled the scrunchie from her kinky hair so the tresses fell around her freckled shoulders.
“Not a damned thing. I’m enjoying the show.”
“I don’t need to get a tape measure or my laser stud finder?”
“Hello. You got a stud right here.” He stripped off his own clothes, catching her eye-roll.
We should talk, he wanted to say, but she sauntered up to him and took hold of his hardening cock. His brain turned to lava and all he could think at that point was that he wanted to be inside her.
He gathered her up, always loving the soft warmth of her over the sturdy resilience of muscle and pure grit. He dropped his mouth to hers, gently feasting, enjoying the chance to take it slower this time.
Or not. She rolled her thumb over the weeping eye of his cock and a sharp sting of pleasure shivered down into his balls. He groaned into her mouth, combing his fingers into her hair to hold her for a long, deep kiss, trying to tell her how important she was to him.
She paused briefly, opening her eyes. She looked very young in that moment. Uncertain.
“Okay?” he murmured.
“I get scared sometimes,” she whispered.
Scared that he would hurt her? That he would leave her again?
“Me, too,” he admitted, not realizing what he was going to say until it came out. “Because I love you with everything in me and I don’t know how to make you believe that.”
She bit her lips together, then, “I love you, too.”
He hadn’t expected such simple words to rock him to his core. He was naked, so fucking naked, but she was right here, naked against him.
She touched the back of his head, urging him to kiss her again and he did, even more reverently than before. He wanted to pour himself into her. This was raw and new and far, far more profound than he could have imagined, but it was good. So good to hold her and touch her and kiss her. To make her twitch and writhe at the lightest touch against her lower spine and to hear her breath catch when his fingers grazed the side of her breast.
They stood there a long time, kissing and touching, maybe using this time to deliberately let the old hurts flow away because guilt and pain and shame were all there, imbuing each caress as he tried to heal up each scar he had left on her, then it slowly became only her. Sophie and heat and need.
She was wet against his fingers as he caressed between her thighs. He was so hard he thought he’d burst when she rolled the condom on him.
They went onto the bed together, moving in unspoken tandem. She parted her legs and he guided his tip against her hot, slippery flesh. Then he was sinking into her heat in one slow thrust.
Her legs came around him and he leaned on his elbow while he tucked her securely beneath him. He loved sex with her. He wanted to do all the filthy things, but those could wait. Right now, this was all he needed or would ever need. Just this quiet, perfect connection with her.
They moved a little here and there. Her inner thigh stroked his waist and her foot rubbed his leg. She sifted her fingers through his hair and sucked on his tongue until he could have come from that alone.
He nibbled her bottom lip and her earlobe and circled her turgid nipple with his thumb. He loved how plump and swollen her nipples got when she was this aroused. They were so sensitive that his lightest touch made her breath hitch and her pussy clench around him.
“I need to come,” she gasped.
It only took a few strokes for both of them. Not even hard ones. He ground his hips into her pelvis and they were tossed into the throes of a long, incredible, simultaneous orgasm.
Chapter Eighteen
Logan went to the bathroom. When he came back and stretched out beside her, he exhaled pure satisfaction and reached for her.
Sophie snuggled into his warmth. It was a cool morning and the sex heat was dissipating from her bloodstream. She wanted the closeness, too, but as perfect as this felt, she was troubled. Unsure.
Did she believe Logan loved her? She didn’t disbelieve him, but she wasn’t ready to take on faith that they would last a lifetime. She couldn’t tie her whole future—and her son’s—to his. Not on one albeit wish-fulfilling declaration.
“I think…” She came up on an elbow and set her hand on his chest, kind of bracing him for what she needed to say. “I think I need to at least try some time on my own, the way you did when you left here.”
His mouth tightened with dismay.
“I know that’s not what you want to hear.” She set her lips against his shoulder. “But I came back for Gramps and I don’t regret that, but that hobbled me from exploring other opportunities or my own potential. I’ll still have Biyen, obviously, but I think it would be good for him to see a broader world than this one, too. Please don’t be mad.”
“This is one of those no-win situations, Soph.” He picked up her hand and wove his fingers through hers, bringing their joined hands to his mouth so he could kiss her knuckle. “I hear what you’re saying. I get it. I’m not going to lay a guilt trip on you or try to convince you differently, but don’t you dare take my accepting what you’re saying as me not caring. It fucking kills me that you would leave when I can’t.”
“Oh, Logan.” She dipped her head against his shoulder.
“But listen.” He cupped the back of her neck.
She lifted her face.
