After Athena and Sean left, Logan spent the rest of the afternoon second-guessing himself, thinking about all the ways he could’ve handled—well, everything—better.
He’d tipped his hand and showed far too much with that outburst about her ex. Not that it wasn’t a hundred percent truth, but she’d said she wasn’t up for anything serious. Maybe he’d been nudging her in that direction, but he’d been taking his time about it, letting her warm up to the idea. Maybe that plan would’ve worked in the long game. But that, in combination with the whole cooking school idea, might as well have been an announcement of, “Hey, I want you to stay and I figured out exactly how you can.” Which it was. But Athena wasn’t a woman who liked being told what to do. He knew that about her. And if he hadn’t been so rattled by thinking she’d taken her ex back, he probably could’ve—would’ve—waited until he could just slip it into the conversation more casually, so she thought the whole thing was her idea.
Too late now.
By the time he made it into the shower, he was convinced he’d blown the whole damned thing. It left him feeling panicky and pissed. Haunted by the should’ve, would’ve, could’ves, the sharp edge of something that might’ve been grief lodged in his throat.
Get a fucking grip, Maxwell. You don’t know that it’s over.
As he scrubbed off layers of dirt and grease and sweat, he considered damage control. How was he going to salvage this situation? Was it salvageable? Should he apologize? Or would talking about it further just make the whole situation worse? Maybe he should just wait and let her process, come to him in her own time, even if that was to say no. His review of the options was cut short as he stepped out of the shower and heard a clatter from the kitchen.
Oh hell.
Bo and Peep had gotten into the garbage again. He really thought the motion-activated trash can with the auto-locking top would stop that crap, but the pair of them were so smart, they’d probably figured out how to tag team it. Tucking a towel around his hips, he jogged downstairs, determined to shoo them outside before they could make any more of a mess.
But it wasn’t Bo and Peep in his kitchen. It was Athena.
Her hair was bundled in a messy knot and the soft, over-sized t-shirt she wore slipped partly off one shoulder as she turned. “Hey, I—”
At the sight of him, her eyes went dark as smoke and her lips parted on an indrawn breath. Her gaze scraped over him, firm as a touch, and the expression of absolute hunger had him going hard in an instant.
Gripping the edge of the towel, Logan struggled for some control. Looking past her, he noticed the containers of food spread out on the counter. “You brought dinner.”
Knowing she communicated in food, he tried to figure out what that meant. A détente? A yes? A way to let him down gently? He was too busy salivating over her to find an answer.
Hissing out a breath, she snapped the top back on some kind of salad and crossed the room. “It can wait.”
Her mouth and hands were on him before he could blink, ravenous, insatiable. Whatever blood was left in his brain drained south.
“Athena,” he gasped against her kiss. He should slow this down. Stop her so they could talk about—everything. But her hands felt so damned good against his bare skin.
“Don’t say no, Logan. Please don’t say no this time.”
There was that please again. It absolutely slayed his resistance.
Dragging her against him, he devoured her mouth with matching fervor. With the press of her body, she edged him back, toward the living room and the sofa. But Logan wanted her in his bed. Needed her there, where he’d imagined her so many times.
Gripping her legs, he boosted her up until she wrapped them around his hips, dislodging the towel in the process, so she was settled directly on his erection. He swayed, considering for a moment just pressing her against the nearest wall. But her jeans were in the way and that wasn’t what he wanted. She deserved better. Finding his balance, he surged up the stairs, managing not to drop her. Turning blindly down the hall, he staggered into his room and tumbled her onto the bed.
She bounced once, her eyes roaming over his naked form. “God, you’re beautiful.”
“That’s my line.” Then he was on her again, helping her strip out of her clothes with a swift efficiency that bordered on desperation.
He’d wanted to go slow, to cherish her. To show her the tenderness she didn’t seem to think she needed. But she was a living flame in his arms, and everything in her touch, her kiss, urged him to hurry, hurry. It wasn’t in him to deny her.
When she was naked, he dragged her to the edge of the bed and lowered his mouth to feast. She bucked beneath him, gasping a creative patois of curses in at least three languages, even as she gripped his hair to hold him to her. He ruthlessly drove her to flashpoint, then continued to lick and suck, drawing out every last pulse of pleasure from her release, until she tugged at his hair again.
“You. Now.”
As he reached for a condom in the nightstand drawer, he wondered if that was her head chef voice. The absolute command in it was sexy as hell.
She yanked the packet out of his hand and ripped it open, rolling the condom on and stroking him from base to tip, until his eyes rolled back in his head.
Oh, hell no. There was only so much control he was willing to cede. Curling his hands around her wrists, he pressed them into the bed and rose over her, settling between her thighs, his cock just nudging her entrance. He held there, staring down at her, drinking in the desire in every line of her face and body as he struggled to find some control, some finesse.
But Athena would have none of it. Wrapping those long, long legs around him, she arched up and pulled him inside in one fast, hard thrust.
They both cried out.
“Athena.” Her name was all he could manage as her body tightened around him, a remembered perfection that had haunted him for nearly a year.
“Don’t stop,” she gasped.
He couldn’t if his life depended on it.
She didn’t want slow and sweet. Not now. Promising he’d give that to her later, he began to move, setting a merciless pace that drove them both up. Her body rose and fell with every stroke of his, matching and challenging him to go faster, harder, until he forgot everything but the slick heat of her body. As he felt the first flutters of her orgasm begin to ripple around him, he gave himself over to it, to her, and let the heat consume them both.
The last dying rays of the sun slanted through the blinds, gilding the caramel-colored walls and the skin of the man slumped over her. Sleepy, sated, Athena decided it was a helluva view. At some point during the main event, Logan had shifted from holding her wrists down to threading his fingers with hers. They were still laced together, and he was still inside her, his face pressed into her throat. His heart thudded dully against hers, a strangely comforting echo of her own racing pulse. Normally, she wanted space after sex, not cuddles. But she wasn’t in any hurry for him to move.
As she lay sweaty and exhausted, still pinned beneath him, she realized the power of her own self-delusion. In her months with Jayson, she’d convinced herself things in the bedroom had been good, that she’d been getting regular, excellent orgasms. But she’d been fooling herself.
Holy hell.
Logan had been amazing at Opal Springs. A playful, generous lover, who’d been exactly what she’d needed to chase away the grief that had accompanied the first family wedding without her mother. But she’d convinced herself that she’d romanticized it, making the whole experience better than it had been because she couldn’t really have him.
She’d been wrong. Completely, unutterably wrong.
She’d known being with Logan again would be good. Their chemistry had never been in question. But this…this had been…explosive. Full of pent-up passion and a need that somehow transcended the physical. One that, now she’d had him again, only felt keener.
And that scared the shit out of her.
As if sensing her shift in mood, Logan roused himself, lifting up enough to look into her face. As his hazel eyes searched hers, she wanted to curl in on herself. She felt exposed, as if he could see into her, to all the weaknesses and vulnerabilities she tried to pretend she didn’t have.
Without releasing her hands, he brushed his lips over hers. “Tell me you’re not going to run away now.”
Her fingers flexed in his, wanting to push him away, to hide, because part of her did want to run. “This wasn’t why I came over here.”
His lips quirked. “Wasn’t it?”
At the amusement in his voice, she scowled. “You distracted me. With your abs and your towel.” God, she still wanted to trace the lines of his six pack with her tongue. Later. There’d be a later now, for sure.
He grinned full-on at that. “If that’s what it takes to get you into my bed, I’ll make it my standard uniform.”
Confused by his playfulness, she frowned. “You had the chance to get me into your bed before. You didn’t take it.”
One hand gently stroked through her tangled hair. “You weren’t really here for me then. You were tonight. On some level, anyway. You brought me dinner.”
He sounded way too pleased by that. “Sean and I made too much food. I thought you deserved some for helping us out today.” And, okay, yeah, maybe she had wanted to test out those aphrodisiac recipes for herself. But they hadn’t even touched the food yet.
He kissed her again—the kind of kiss that said he wasn’t through with her yet—and rolled off, padding into the bathroom to take care of business. Over the sound of running water he called, “Did she say yes?”
Still feeling exposed, Athena grabbed up one of his shirts from a hamper that looked liked clean laundry and slipped it on. “So fast, I’m not sure they even made it to the chocolate soufflé.”
“Good for Sean.” Logan padded back into the bedroom, sliding his arms around her waist and trapping her hands against his chest. “I am sorry I thought he was your ex. He seems like a good guy.”
“He is a good guy.” Athena waited a moment to see if he’d continue with the apologies. “You’re not going to apologize for getting all in my face about it?”
He sobered. “It’s how I feel. You deserve so much better than you got. I couldn’t just stand by when I thought you were making a mistake.”
Scowling, she thumped him on the shoulder. “I’m still a little pissed at you for thinking I’d take Jayson back. I’m not that stupid.”
“I’ll apologize for that. It was the jealousy talking.”
Appeased and wanting to lighten the mood, Athena smirked. “I suppose I’ll forgive you, if only because jealousy looks good on you.”
Logan didn’t take the cue. “Look, Athena, I know you aren’t looking for anything serious.”
She tensed. Why was he doing this? Why did they have to define things right now? They’d had sex. Stupendous sex. Sex she really hoped they’d have again. Soon. Couldn’t they just leave it at that?
But he was still talking. “I won’t lie to you that I am hoping for the serious. It’s how I’m wired. But I won’t push you. I know your life is in upheaval right now, and you’re not ready to make any decisions.”
His pause felt pregnant with quintuplets. He was making too many concessions to what he actually wanted.
“I feel like there’s another ‘But’ hanging out in there.”
His hands laced behind her back, pulling her closer against his still gloriously naked body. But it didn’t quite distract her from the seriousness of his expression. “I’m willing to roll with the casual because now that I’ve had you again, once isn’t going to be enough. But I’ve got one major requirement. As long as we’re getting naked together, we’re not getting naked with anybody else. I don’t share.”
Some of the tension leeched out of her. “I can live with that.”
Smiling, he bent to rub his nose against hers.
Athena stared up at him, flummoxed. “Did you…just give me Eskimo kisses?”
“I can fondle your butt if it’d make you feel better,” he offered.
“It might.” That, at least, made sense to her.
He slid his palms over her backside, then back up again beneath the tail of the shirt until he cupped one cheek in each hand and squeezed. “There. Are you ready to show me what you brought for dinner?”
“A meal that, if it does its job, will make your putting clothes on again completely superfluous.”
“I like the sound of that.”
She cleaned up and they headed downstairs, where she began warming the food.
“It was better fresh.”
“I’m sure it’ll be amazing either way.” Logan, sadly having donned a pair of jeans, slid his hands over her hips and nibbled at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. “So was dinner the only reason you came by?”
Athena shivered, bobbling the spear of asparagus she was trying to plate. “No. I came to talk about your cooking school proposal.”
His lips stilled and he straightened, turning her to face him. “It was just an idea. I didn’t intend to pressure you or make you feel like I wanted to use your celebrity to my benefit.”
The idea of that almost made her smile. Almost. “I think you grossly overestimate my celebrity. Notoriety maybe.” Because that thought did too much to dim the buzz of arousal she had going on, Athena shook it off. “But no. I think it’s actually a good idea.”
“You do?” His genuine surprise bemused her. She was so used to seeing his easy confidence.
“I’m not ready to make any major career decisions. I don’t have any kind of offers to even entertain right now. For better or worse, I need to lay low while the scandal blows over. This allows me to do that and still cook, which I need to do to stay sane. And—” She skimmed her fingers over his bare chest. “I hope it means you and I will be spending more time together.”
“As much as you want. Naked or otherwise.” He caught her hand and stilled it over his heart. “There’s something here, Athena. We didn’t get a chance to explore it before, and maybe right now is crap circumstances, but I think we owe it to ourselves to see what it is.”
She didn’t know what she’d do if he was right, if this turned out to be more than a casual affair. Her next career move wouldn’t be here. She knew that much. But that was a problem for another day. She’d hit her max of what she was capable of handling.
“How about we start with the food and go from there?”
He smiled. “Sounds good to me.”