Arabella slid her arms around Logan’s neck again as he rolled another heavy door shut behind her. But she paid no heed to the room or the bed or the décor, she only wanted his lips. And his arms.
His breath, his taste, his tongue.
His mouth.
She hunted for it, zeroing in on the ripe fullness, whimpering in triumph when she found it, the heat between them flaring like a lit fuse as they connected.
“Bella.” He groaned against her mouth, her name getting lost between them as she sucked it into the kiss, rolling it around between them stoking the heat until it flamed out of control, threatening to engulf her.
Too hot for clothes. Way too hot for clothes.
She grabbed the back of his T-shirt and pulled, lifting it up, up, up, ignoring the smooth skin, the firm muscles, and the interesting dips of his ribcage, desperate for the feel of his skin on hers.
Needing to be closer. Needing more. Needing to know every single inch of him.
The kiss broke apart as his shirt came off but not for long, their lips fusing again even as he yanked at her shirt and she set her hands to his fly, flicking the button open and ripping down the zip. She moaned as she dipped inside and wrapped her hand around the hard length of his cock.
“Christ,” he swore, sucking in a breath as he broke away, pulling her hand out of his underwear to relieve her of her shirt and, with a quick flick of his wrist, her bra too.
Her breasts had never been big but Logan looked at them like they were all day suckers, her nipples hardening as he licked his lips. Any thought she had to dip back into his underwear was lost when he tugged her close and set his mouth to one. All she was capable of at that point was arching her back and hanging on tight.
How the rest of their clothes came to be off, Arabella really had no idea. She was too far gone on the tongue-lashing he’d been dishing out to comprehend much at all. But suddenly they were both naked – even their shoes had been toed off – and his hands were on her butt cheeks and he was moving her slowly backwards, his erection, thick and heavy, trapped between their bodies.
The mattress hitting the backs of her knees roused her from her stupor. She frowned at him as he relinquished a nipple. Her breasts had patches of reddened skin where his stubble had scraped and driven her crazy.
He fingered the gold hoop in her left ear for a moment before setting it swinging in her lobe. “Lay back,” he whispered, dropping a long, sizzling kiss on her mouth. “I want to love you.”
He didn’t look tired anymore. He looked energised. He looked purposeful. He looked like he could love her all damn day and night.
He looked like a freaking sex god.
The pulse between her thighs kicked up a notch as she sat on the side of the bed – or slid down his body would be a more accurate description of the move, her legs wobbling like jelly. His cock jutted out long and proud right in front of her at about mouth level and she was just about to reach for him when he turned away.
His chin dimpled at her tiny mew of protest.
“Where are you going?”
“Condoms,” he said.
Arabella blinked as he opened his bedside table drawer. Condoms hadn’t even crossed her mind. She hoped that was more to do with her contraceptive implant than Logan’s insanely good sex powers addling her senses.
Safe sex wasn’t just about pregnancy for crying out loud!
She noticed some cursive script tattooed onto his left shoulder blade just as he looked over it and repeated, “Lay back.”
The request rumbled from him, all low and sexy, scattering every brain cell and dissolving practically every bone in her body, making it impossible to worry about tattoos or even stay upright. She made a mental note to ask him about the tattoo later as she lowered herself down onto the mattress.
He tossed a foil packet on the pillow nearest him as he rejoined her, planting his feet firmly between hers. “God, you look sexy,” he muttered, his heated gaze roving over the whisker burn he’d left on her breasts in the way only a man could.
With a look of pride and possession that melted her to the bed.
She looked sexy? The man was standing over her like he owned her, all long, tanned limbs, flat abs, and big wide shoulders. His cock jutted out over top of her thighs like it owned her. He was naked and hot and hard. For her.
The man defined sexy.
He held up his hand, palm down. “I’m nervous,” he admitted, grinning as it trembled slightly and his self-deprecation was sexy as hell. Not a lot of guys would admit to that at this point of the proceedings for fear of emasculation.
Not that he appeared to be suffering from that.
He moved his hand to his chest, placing it flat over his sternum and gave a half laugh as he stared down at her. “You should feel how hard my heart is beating right now.”
Arabella slid her palm to her stomach where her abdominal pulse thumped like a hammer. His gaze tracked the movement.
“If it’s beating as hard as mine, we’re both in trouble.”
He shook his head slowly, his gaze drifting over her breasts and down her belly, lingering on the hair between her legs before returning to her face. “I never thought I’d get a second chance at a first time with you.”
God. He slayed her.
Outrageously good-looking and a poet. Turning her on, turning her around, turning her inside out. Seducing her with his body and his gaze and his mouth.
With his lips and his words.
Arabella held out her hand to him. “Come here and kiss me.”
He sank to his haunches, sliding his hands onto her knees, pushing them slowly apart, spreading her out before him as he shuffled in closer. Her breath hitched as his gaze zeroed in on the exposed lips of her sex. The pulse that had been beating there slowed to a thick, heavy thud as a wild tingle took over and she grew slicker beneath his gaze.
He dipped his head, his eyes firmly fixed on his target. Arabella’s thighs tensed and the tingle turned to a roar of anticipation even as her brain rejected the move.
“No.” Her voice was husky but the word hung firm and steady in the air between him.
Her abdominal pulse bounded harder as he halted halfway. He flicked a glance at her, their gazes locking as she shook her head.
“I want you here,” she said, touching her mouth.
Did she want him to go down on her at some point? As a fully paid up, card-carrying member of the cunnilingus fan club that was a big hell, yeah. But right now she needed his mouth on her mouth more. God knew how many memories he had stored away of their kisses but she had none. Only the kiss from the other night, which had run on a continuous loop through her head, and the ones here today.
And it wasn’t enough.
She wanted his kiss more than anything. She wanted to make new memories of his mouth moving on hers; she wanted to imprint every nuance of his kisses into her brain. Flood her grey matter with a bunch of new data.
She wanted to kiss him forever. Until their lips were numb. Until they were raw.
“I want you to kiss me and kiss me and not stop. Not even when you’re inside me. Not even when you come. You have so many memories of us kissing and I don’t have any.” She held out her hand to him again. “Help me make some new ones.”
Their gazes still locked, Logan intertwined his fingers with hers and lowered his chin to a point just above her navel where her abdominal pulse thumped like crazy. It picked up some more as her muscles contracted beneath the delicious scrape of whiskers.
“Whatever the lady wants,” he murmured.
He crawled up her body, his knees straddling her thighs, as he pushed both her arms above her head shackling them there with one hand. She was completely vulnerable to him, the wicked intent in his stare liquefying her one cell at a time.
He settled on top of her, his hard dick pressed into the cradle of her pelvis. His spare hand played with the gold hoop in her ear, his fingertips brushing the side of her neck.
“Hold on, baby,” he whispered, his gaze fixed on her mouth. “I’m going to kiss the fuck out of you.”
And he did, his lips lowering and unleashing a torrent of kisses that left her breathless and moaning as she gave herself over to the mastery of his mouth and the hot probe of his tongue. She opened all the way for him, her mouth and her legs, inviting him closer, her pulse roaring through her ears.
“Please.” She gasped for air, shifting restlessly underneath him. “I want you in me.”
She needed to feel the stretch and the rock and the pound of him.
He didn’t break for breath or direction, just kept kissing her as he groped for the condom. He tore it open somewhere above her head, grounding his knees and lifting his hips, reaching between them to roll it on, his mouth still fast on hers, his tongue swiping back and forth along the contours of her lips as if they were dusted in cocaine and he was an addict.
As if he never wanted to be anywhere else.
Her hands freed, Arabella clung to him. To his shoulders, to the small of his back, to the tight bunch of his ass as her pulse roared and her breath sawed and she slowly lost her mind. He was taking her apart piece by piece, deconstructing her and she surrendered to it willingly.
Then his hand was on her thigh, lifting it out and up, placing her calf on his shoulder as the blunt nudge of his cock prodded urgently against the hot, slick heat between her legs. He swallowed her cry, swooping it up with his tongue, thrusting into her mouth with the same thick urgency as his cock thrusting straight and true inside her, ploughing into her, sucking her breath away.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his breath ragged as he broke away slightly, his lips still brushing hers.
She sucked in a breath. “Yes. God, yes.” Lifting her head to close the slither of light between them, claiming his mouth again, dragging them both back into the primal force between them.
It didn’t take long for either of them to get to the final destination. They were in sync from the first thrust, their hot, deep, wet kisses stoking the build-up between them, tripping it into overdrive.
“Logan.”
She panted his name as she wrenched her mouth from his, her eyes screwed shut, her back arching, her shoulder blades dipping closer together. Had he not been on top of her she would have bowed right off the bed as every muscle in her body contracted in that moment directly before everything imploded.
“Yes, baby, yes,” he muttered, rocking into her again and again, claiming her lips as she came hard and wild, moaning into his mouth and bucking in his arms.
He joined her seconds later, bellowing his own release into their kiss. She devoured it, triumphantly, her hand clamped to the back of his neck, keeping their mouths fused and their hearts aligned as their bodies threatened to launch into the stratosphere.
Even as the climax ebbed and the kisses ebbed too, losing their frenzied edge, her lips clung to his, wanting every last kiss he had to give. Even the slow, sated, lazy ones. Especially those. Needing to imprint them on her mouth, her skin, her brain.
Finally, their breathing almost normal, he lifted his head and smiled. He was still hard inside her, his eyes glittering with sexual satisfaction, the cleft in his chin crazy sexy. He collapsed against her, his forehead fitting into the crook of her shoulder, his lips nuzzling her neck.
“Christ,” he murmured. “I think I just died and went to heaven.”
Arabella smiled. Her hand was tangled in his hair and his weight, pinning her to the bed, was a delicious reminder of just how well they fit.
If this was dying then she was done with living.
Logan wasn’t sure what the time was when he eventually stirred at movement behind him. It was still bright daylight outside but the sun wasn’t pouring directly through the windows so it must be well up in the sky.
He rolled over to find Bella, in his work T-shirt which sat low on her thigh – slipping back into bed.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered, sitting cross-legged, pulling the sheet up.
Logan smiled, big and slow, his heart about as full up as possible. If his eyes didn’t feel the kind of gritty that always accompanied lack of sleep, he might have just thought he was dreaming.
Bella was really here. In his bed. He’d kissed her, touched her, stripped her naked.
They’d really been together. He’d made love to her.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was a little rough from sleep. “I flaked out.”
In the back of his mind, he’d always hoped that one day he and Bella would cross paths again. The marathon session they’d have getting reacquainted had been one of those fantasies he’d harboured late at night.
And then he’d gone and fallen asleep on her.
Actually, crashed headlong into sleep would be a better description. He vaguely recalled stumbling to the bathroom to get rid of the condom and stumbling back again but that was it.
“Are you kidding?” She shook her head at him. “You’ve just come off five nights. You must have been dead on your feet.”
He chuckled, sliding his hand onto her thigh. “I don’t think my feet were having much of a say earlier.” She laughed but her breath hitched as he slid his hand a little higher. “Did you sleep?”
“For an hour or so.”
“How long have you been awake for?”
“A little while.”
He stroked his thumb along the flesh of her inner thigh, gratified when she squirmed a little. “You should have woken me.”
“I had my phone,” she said, tipping her chin at her pillow where the phone lay. “There’re always emails to answer and my boss gave me a bunch of research to tackle this weekend.”
Logan wanted to say fuck research. That he had much more interesting plans for her this weekend. But he didn’t know this Bella well enough to push. The old one? She’d always been up for a weekend in bed.
“Doesn’t sound like what I had in mind,” he said, deliberately keeping up the lazy stroke of his thumb because her skin had broken out in goose bumps and he could hear her breath starting to roughen.
“Don’t worry, I was only going to give you another hour.”
“Oh, you were, were you?” He grinned. “And then what were you going to do?”
“I thought you might”—she shrugged casually—“appreciate waking up to a hot mouth on a certain part of your anatomy.”
The certain piece of his anatomy in question sparked to life, appreciating it very much. “My... lips?” he asked innocently.
She smiled, shaking her head deliberately slowly, which set those big gold hoops in her ears a-swishing. “Lower.”
“My chin?”
“Much lower.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “My belly button?”
She laughed. “Warmer.”
Logan remembered how playful she’d always been and how he’d loved to tease her. “Ohhhh. My...” He let the word drift as he lowered his gaze to the part in question which was very obviously responding to the innuendo.
She looked too, her eyes widening slightly at the sight. Or maybe it was because his hand had slid higher, brushing between her legs. Her cross-legged posture gave him easy access.
No underwear – jackpot.
“Yes, your...”
She cleared her throat – maybe to rid it of its huskiness or maybe out of primness?
He laughed. “I remember you used to be embarrassed to say that word when I first met you,” he said, trailing his fingertips against the seam of her sex.
Her breathing roughened as her eyes fluttered closed briefly. “That word?”
He nodded, a sudden rush of power making him dizzy. Not even nine years and a case of amnesia had dampened their chemistry. He could still turn her to putty. He levered himself up on his elbow and leaned in close until his mouth brushed her earlobe, the gold hoop swaying under the influence of his breath.
“Cock,” he whispered.
Her breath rushed out as her temple rubbed against his forehead but then her head was turning and she was seeking his lips.
“Cock,” she whispered back before kissing him in a way that was so far from prim it slugged him in his balls.
It was deep and wet and dirty.
And then her phone rang.
“Leave it,” he muttered, their lips brushing, his fingers growing bolder.
But she shook her head emphatically, her eyes opening. “I’m sorry, I have to get that. It’ll be my boss, I was responding to an email when you woke and started distracting me.”
Logan smiled against her mouth. “Cock,” he murmured again but sighed as she twisted to pick up the phone then swung her legs over the side of the bed, dislodging his hand.
“Fine,” he said, as she put the phone to her ear. “But you’re turning that damn thing off after that.”