Logan Kade

  “Hey.” Logan leaned closer. His elbows rested on his knees. His head came close to mine, and his fingers tapped my leg. “Look.” He straightened. “I know some shit went down last year with your mom. I’ve got no idea what, just that something happened. If you think I care what it is, you’re wrong. I can see it’s hurting you. That’s the only thing I care about. So if you want to talk, I’m here. If you don’t, I don’t either.”

  The more he said, the more tension left me.

  His voice softened. “We’ve all got shit in our past.” He gestured to the house. “Those people in there? Mason, Sam, even Nate—they’re my family because we’ve had our own battles go down. I love my parents, but I didn’t grow up because of them. I grew up because of Mason. So whatever went down with you last year—I don’t know what I’m saying. I guess you can hold on to it if you want, if that does something for you. Fuck.” He expelled a breath. “I don’t say shit to anyone either, so who am I to encourage all the sharing?” He stood, holding his beer bottle so tightly his knuckles were almost white. “I suddenly want to get rip-roaring drunk.”

  I expected him to pass by, head for the house, and my gaze went back to the ground. But his feet never moved away. I looked back up, and he held his hand out to me. “You coming?”

  I couldn’t look away. “To get drunk?”

  He shrugged. “For whatever, but yes, I’d prefer if booze was involved.”

  I looked up into his eyes then. The storm that raged in me was there too. The joking, playing side of him was gone. This was the real Logan, and there was a whole lot of darkness there. I took his hand, felt myself standing with him, and I followed him inside. Everything said yes to me. Yes, I wanted to hold his hand. Yes, I wanted to get drunk with him. Yes, I wanted to tell him what happened. Yes, I wanted to go wherever he was taking me.

  I stopped thinking. I would probably regret it, but I was done thinking, analyzing, worrying. I was done being afraid. I was going with the feels, and as Logan went inside, he grabbed a bottle of Jack. The feels would be dangerous to me that night. I embraced them.

  Logan went upstairs, then up a second flight of stairs. He had the entire third level as his bedroom. He’d set up a small living room in the corner with a massive television screen mounted on the wall. A video game console sat halfway between the television and the couch. Logan nudged it back toward the wall and sank down on the couch.

  I stood in front of him. He gazed up at me, our hands still laced together. My heart beat so fast.

  Nothing was said, but I felt him. I felt that he wanted me. I wanted him, too. The air was thick. I felt it pressing down, but it didn’t bother me. All I could feel was the desire to touch him, to taste him.

  I wanted to forget everything.

  My voice was raspy as I said, “What are we doing?”

  “Honestly?” He opened his legs and tugged me forward. “Anything you want.”

  I was trapped between his thighs, and I loved it. I started to lower myself to rest on one of his knees, but Logan set the bottle aside and found my waist. He lifted me, only to pull me back down, straddling him. My hand still held one of his hands, and they rested between us as he leaned back against the couch. Reaching for the bottle again, he unscrewed the top with his free hand, then thumbed the cap off, tossing it to the floor. His eyes found mine again.

  His hand left mine and moved to my waist. It slid under my shirt and inside my jeans to grip my hip. “What do you want to do?”

  He asked so much with that question. My eyelids were heavy. I just wanted him. That was it. “I don’t want to think tonight.”

  His hand tightened over my hip. He took a long pull from the bottle, then passed it to me. I held it in front of me. I closed my eyes and tipped my head back, feeling the burn as the liquid slid down my throat. It warmed me. I took a second pull, then a third. Logan did the same.

  “What’s the verdict, Bruce?”

  I grinned at my last name. “What do you mean?”

  His hand slid up, curving around my back. He leaned toward me as his hand stopped right at my bra. I closed my eyes to savor the feeling of his fingers there. I wanted my shirt off. I wanted my bra off. I wanted the touch of his fingers, but I bit my lip and waited for his answer.

  “You know.”

  I did. My eyes opened, I gazed right down into him. Our foreheads were so close. Everything was so close. His eyes darted to my lips, darkening, and I thought, Screw it. I closed the distance, but once my lips touched his, he took over. He’d been waiting for me, holding off, and once I gave my answer, he was ready. Sweeping me up in his arms, he carried me to the bed.

  He skimmed a hand up my back, leaving a trail of tingles in his wake. He lifted my shirt as he went until he could pull it clear. As my hair fell back down, it gave me a slow caress as well. I shivered a delicious and intoxicating shiver as Logan tilted my head up to meet his gaze.

  Hunger. Need. His eyes darkened before his lips fell to mine. That slight pressure sent a mass of sensations through me, and my toes curled at the tantalizing touch of his lips. I wound my arms around his neck, pressing against him as I burned, yet goose bumps ran up and down my bare back.

  “Taylor,” Logan murmured, one of his hands falling to my jeans. A gentle touch there, and he guided me backward.

  I moved down onto the bed, his arms locked around me. He rolled with me and held himself above me. When he undid my jeans, the ache that had been building turned into a throb. I was wet, already wanting him there. I wanted the feel of him sliding into me, how tight that would be, how connected and intimate. I stretched slowly, savoring the smooth, soft feeling of his sheets on my back as he started to pull my jeans down.

  “Logan.” I reached for his face. I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted the touch only lovers could relish, and as his lips moved back to mine, I kicked at my pants.

  Logan pulled back, and I moaned at the separation, but his smooth chuckle calmed me. I felt his breath moving down my body, a ministration in its own right as he pressed kisses along the way and lingered before he pulled my jeans off, then my underwear. He paused, lifting his head.

  I opened my eyes to see him studying the inside of my thigh. I bit my lip, knowing what he saw, and I prepared myself. But when he looked back at me, there was no judgment. He smoothed over my skin and asked, his voice husky, “You have a tattoo?”

  I nodded, my throat full with emotion and praying he wouldn’t ask more. “It’s a sparkler.”

  “It’s beautiful, Taylor.” He bent and pressed his lips there. “It’s a Goddamn firecracker. Perfect.”

  I gasped, my back arching at the shock of his touch. Then he turned his head, moving his mouth to where I ached. As he began to stroke me–kissing, nibbling, licking, and rubbing–his hand grazed over my body from my shoulder to my arm. The side of his hand then brushed against my breast and came to rest on my stomach.

  The pleasure was building. The longer he caressed me, the higher my back arched. “Logan!”

  He still didn’t stop. A smooth chuckle came from him, sending vibrations through my body, but I was so far gone. I reached down, my fingers sliding into his hair and grabbing hold. He used his tongue now, and I felt a scream building in the back of my throat. It was going to rip from me, so

  I sank my teeth into my lip. Then he moved away, and I gasped at the sudden break. But then his lips were on mine as his fingers sank inside of me.

  I moaned, unable to keep it in. I’d never been loud during sex, but Logan brought out something new in me. It had never been like this with Eric. There’d been a touch here and there, a hand on the boob, a quick finger pump, and then he’d fill me. He didn’t stretch me, not the way Logan was doing. His finger slid deep before pulling back to go in again. Then a second finger moved with the first, and he kept going. He went deeper than Eric had ever gone, and I was panting.

  I grabbed his shoulders, and my nails sank in. He stiffened above me, and I laid my head back on the pillow.

  �
��Oh, no, no, no.” Logan grinned down at me, desire almost palpable on his face. He shook his head, tsking. “If you think you can lay back and just enjoy this, you’re mistaken.”

  I stopped biting my lip to grin back up at him. This was new too—laughing, teasing. I was used to silence until Eric was done. I’d get a quick pop of relief, followed by a short, trembling climax, but that was it. Tonight my body glistened with sweat, and I held back from climaxing right now.

  Logan looked rested and ready to go all night. “I’ve got a feeling I’m going to be sore tomorrow,” I told him.

  “Tomorrow?” He pulled his fingers out and rested, gazing down at me. “You’re going to be sore tonight. I’m going to ride you long and hard until you think the world is only made of sex.” He smirked, arching an eyebrow. “How’s that sound?”

  He stole my breath. The way he looked at me—cocky, his eyes full of arousal, and his sole focus on me—he was breathtaking.

  I lifted a hand to cup the side of his face, and my finger traced his mouth. “You’re beautiful,” I said.

  He didn’t respond, but surprise bloomed over his face. He gazed down as I looked up, and in that moment, a wall slid away. He let me in. I saw the little boy in him, the younger brother, the friend. I saw the protective family member. I already knew the player, joker, and fighter, but this was once again the real Logan.

  A wave of emotion rose up in me. I was thankful. I was moved. I felt inspired, followed by a sense of desperation. He’d let me in. He didn’t let anyone in. I needed to prove I was loyal, that I would respect him as he had given me respect, that I was worthy of this gift. I blinked back tears. “Logan,” I said softly.

  A different look appeared in his eyes, making them bright and clear, almost awestruck. His eyes fluttered closed, and he bent his head once more. This time the kiss wasn’t just to give pleasure. It was more. It was a message from him to me, and as my lips moved under his, I answered.

  What the message was, I wasn’t ready to understand. I just knew it was deep, it was primal, and I had never experienced it in my life.

  As Logan slid inside of me a little later, condom in place, he filled me to the fullest. Tomorrow, he would find claw marks on his back. Tomorrow, I wouldn’t be able to walk. Tomorrow, I might be overwhelmed by how raw and exposed I felt tonight. But tomorrow would be tomorrow. I’d deal with that then.

  For now, I clasped on to Logan and moved my hips with his.

  LOGAN SEX MACHINE KADE

  TAYLOR

  Logan was still sleeping when I woke up. He was curled toward me, one hand resting on my hip and the other under his head. Our legs were tangled, and I took a minute to look over him.

  He was cocky and so full of life when awake. When he slept, he looked almost angelic. Eyes closed, his chest moved in a quiet, steady rhythm. Once he woke up, he’d have a smart-ass comment on his lips, and in that moment, I didn’t want it. I wanted this serene feeling I had now.

  He was peaceful, and almost pure. Then my eyes fell to the tattoo on his side, reminding me he wasn’t. I’d seen it last night and wanted to ask him about it, but his lips had twisted as I touched it, a flash of anger in his eyes. I’d guided him back to me without a word, but he paused, looking at his tattoo and then at me. The moment had been brief, and I knew he wasn’t angry with me. It was that tattoo. I’d ask him about it one day.

  Hearing a small buzzing sound from the floor, I held my breath and eased out of Logan’s bed, scooting to the edge. All my clothes were in a pile, and my phone had fallen out of my jeans. It kept buzzing, so I grabbed where it landed, right underneath my bra.

  It was my alarm for class, and raking a hand through my hair, I cursed under my breath. I was almost an hour late. I wouldn’t make my morning classes. After turning my alarm off, I saw a text message from Claire and grimaced. We said lunch yesterday. I checked the message; she needed to move the time back twenty minutes. That was not a problem.

  Gathering as much of my clothing as I could, I slipped into Logan’s bathroom and dressed. I texted Claire back, letting her know the change of time was good for me, and decided to order an Uber. And…I was stuck. I wasn’t sure where I was. Operation Sneak-Back-Ignore-The-Gorgeous-Guy-In-The-Bed-And-Find-His-Mail was a go.

  I tried to be quiet in the bathroom, but when I edged the door open, I peeked around it and saw Logan on the edge of his bed, sitting right where I’d been earlier. He had pulled on his jeans, but they weren’t zipped up. He frowned, his hair sticking up, and he rubbed a hand over one of his eyes.

  “You look like a hot cat burglar right now,” he said. “Why is that, and why do I want to be your sidekick?”

  I smiled. I couldn’t stop myself, and I came the rest of the way into the room. I didn’t dare get any closer, though. I wasn’t stupid. We’d end up back in bed. Even now, my eyes skimmed all over him, taking in his wide, strong shoulders, remembering how they’d lifted me. And his stomach. He was lean, sculpted, and cut. I remembered how he’d held himself above me, watching me as I climaxed. Those muscles had rippled under my hands as I explored him in turn.

  I fanned myself. “You got a window? We should open it.”

  He smirked. “Round two.” He patted the space next to him. “I’m ready when you are, Firecracker.”

  That name… I looked down. It felt good. It felt really good, not to mention the rest of what he’d said. I almost groaned. The idea was tempting, but no—Claire. I could not forget Claire. I waved my phone at him. “I have a lunch date. Round two will have to be postponed.”

  The smirk vanished. “Don’t tell me you’re meeting that douche for lunch.”

  “What?”

  “The guy from the party last night.”

  “Oh…Oh!” He meant Jeremy. “No. It’s Claire. We set it up last night before I even saw you. And speaking of, what’s your address? I was going to call a driver.”

  Logan snorted. He stood up, gesturing to my phone. “Put that thing away. I’ll give you a ride wherever you need.”

  “My car’s still outside that douche’s apartment.”

  He grunted, stretching at the same time. All his muscles flattened. I couldn’t stop watching. When his arms dropped back to his side, my eyes were pulled lower, lower, all the way to the V that dipped beneath his jeans.

  After a moment, I realized Logan was watching me watch him. Another burst of heat came to my cheeks, and I turned away. “It’s like you’re a machine or something,” I mumbled. “Just get dressed, please.”

  Logan chuckled, disappearing inside his closet. His voice carried out, “A sex machine.”

  I heard the gloating in his voice.

  He came back out, and I looked up. The smirk was back in place, as was a simple shirt that fit him nicely and didn’t hide what was underneath at all.

  “I do believe that’s the best compliment I’ve heard the morning after.” He winked at me, grabbing a baseball cap. “Just call me Logan Sex Machine Kade from now on.”

  “You looked so angelic when you were sleeping.”

  “No, Taylor.” Logan went to the bathroom, but stuck his head back out. His grin turned wicked. “I looked fucking angelic.” He paused. “That doesn’t make sense. Carry on.” He disappeared again, but his voice echoed out to me. “Keep telling me how you were watching me in my sleep. I want to hear all about how gorgeous I was.”

  I groaned, sitting down on the bed to wait. “You’re not hurting for humility. That’s for sure.”

  The water ran for a minute, then he turned it off. He returned, drying his hands, and smiled down at me. “Confidence is sexy, and speaking of sex...” He leaned down, suddenly in my space.

  I stayed firm. A tingle shot through me at how close he came, but he stopped a few inches away. His eyes raked over my face, going to my lips, then back up to my eyes.

  He grinned, slowly, deliciously. “When’s round two going to happen?”

  I tried to ignore the adrenaline that shot through my body and the fact that if he lowe
red his face another two inches, his mouth would be on mine again. I gulped. “Technically, round two already happened.”

  And round three. He’d bent me into a position I never knew existed. My mind started to wander, remembering that moment and instantly, my body was getting hotter. I cleared my throat and fixed a smile on my face. “Can you take me to my car now?”

  He chuckled, moving back, and, good gracious, I didn’t want him to leave. I almost sagged forward at his abrupt absence.

  “Come on, Firecracker.” Grabbing his wallet and keys, he opened his door and pointed to the hallway. “You’re lucky you have a lunch thing, or I’d make you get some food with me. I never did get those tacos last night.”

  As I moved past him, he gave me one firm little swat on the butt, then fell in line beside me. The door shut, and his arm came around my shoulders. We walked down to the main floor like that, and I liked how it made me feel, like I was his.

  At that thought, my veins filled with ice.

  His.

  No, no, no. That was wrong. What was I doing? His arm fell from my shoulders as we reached the front door, and he told me to wait a minute for him. He went to the kitchen, and I heard him talking to someone. I didn’t want to go in there, especially after I heard Sam respond. She would take one look and instantly know.

  A lump the size of a baseball formed at the bottom of my throat.

  I had feelings for Logan. What was I going to do about them?