Chapter 96
-Hailey-
The whiskey in my glass was warm and watery, but I kept holding it. My other hand was wrapped around Logan’s cane, which was resting across my lap.
The clubhouse hummed as broth were sitting in the eye of the storm.
started pouring out of the chapel. But at our end of the bar, it felt like Scarlett and I
me for the other wall to hit us.
I could still feel the phantom heat of Leo’s blood on my hands.
Scarlett’s leg bounced beside mine as she stared into her own untouched drink. Her face was pale under the shitty bar lights.
“You okay?” I asked, clearing my throat. My voice was raspy.
She shook her head once. “Nope. Are you?”
I sipped my whiskey, wincing at the taste. “Not even a little bit,” admitted.
Scarlett managed a weak grin as she looked over at me. “Well. At least we’re honest.”
The clubhouse door swung open, and I turned to see River and Abby walk in. They brought a rush of cold air with them, and it made me shiver.
Logan limped out of the chapel at the same time. He slid onto the stool next to me, and his hand reached for my thigh.
Monty joined us too, behind the bar. He didn’t wait for anyone to ask, just grabbed the bottle of whiskey and started pouring glasses.
“Leo’s stable,” River said. “He’s gonna be fine. The surgery went well, but he’s still out of it. He doesn’t remember much about the kid – just the car. A beat–up Honda Civic.”
We were all quiet for a few seconds, letting the news sink in.
“Bella Napoli,” I said suddenly.
Logan’s green eyes snapped to me. “What?”
“That’s where the pizza came from. It’s a newer place. Frankie’s wasn’t delivering tonight for some reason.”
He nodded slowly. “We’ll call ‘em when they open tomorrow. See what we can find out. It’s a long shot, but if we can find the kid, maybe we can get somethin‘ out of him about Anatoly.”
Logan chugged his whiskey and slammed the glass down on the bar. Without another word to anyone else, he grabbed his cane with one hand, and my hand with the other. His grip was tight- almost possessive- as he pulled me to my feet. “C’mon,” he murmured.
I was a little bit confused, but I didn’t argue. I let him lead me toward the stairs.
As we left, I glanced back at the bar. River and Monty were deep in conversation. Abby was holding River’s arm, chatting quietly with Scarlett.
It was like Logan and I had never been there at all.
Upstairs, he ushered me into his apartment, and the door clicked shut behind us in the dark. He didn’t turn on the light, he just tugged me straight through the living room and down the hall, not stopping until we were next to the bed.
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ས་ པས་་
Chapter 96
He dropped his cane with a clatter and turned to me. His eyes were black pools in the moonlight.
Then the space between us vanished.
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His hands found the waistband of my jeans, and his fingers hooked into the belt loops, pulling me against him. The hard line of his body was a shock against mine as he stared down at me in the darkness.
He leaned down slowly like he was going to kiss me, and I tilted by head up in response.
“Take
your pants off,” he commanded.
A nervous laugh bubbled out of me. A reflex at the sheer intensity of his demand. “What?”
He pulled me into him harder, his knuckles pressing into my hip bones. “I said, take your fuckin‘ pants off, Ace.”
I choked on the laugh as heat curled through my core.
My fingers fumbled with the button, the zip, and I pushed the denim down my hips, kicking them off along with my boots. I stood there in just my sweatshirt and underwear, and I felt goosebumps crawl across my bare legs.
“These too,” he growled, tugging at my panties. It sent my head spinning as I quickly obliged.
He didn’t give me time to feel exposed. He backed me toward the bed with his gaze locked on mine.
I sank onto the comforter, and the scent of him rose up to meet me.
He followed me down, but not on top of me. He pushed my knees apart and settled between them, his hands sliding under my thighs, lifting my hips.
And then his mouth was on me, hot and wet and desperate. I cried out, my fingers twisting in the sheets.
There was no gentleness, no slow build. This was a claiming. A confirmation of life in the face of all the death and fear we’d been trudging through.
He devoured me like a starving man. His tongue was ruthless. He tasted me, drank me in, with a low groan that vibrated up to my ribs.
Every flick, every suck drew a sharper moan out of me. Building up a wall between him and the images I knew were playing behind his eyes the warehouse explosion, the knife in Leo’s gut, the blood on my hands.
–
The first orgasm ripped through me with the violence of a car crash, tearing a howl from my throat as I dug my fingers into his curls.
But he didn’t pull away. Didn’t even pause to let me come down.
He held me there, pinned by his mouth and hands.
He chased a second one, wringing it out of me until I was breathless and my body was trembling uncontrollably.
A third began to coil deep in my belly. A horrible, deliciously overwhelming pressure. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. There was only the relentless, devastating heat of his mouth.
The flick of his tongue.
“Logan…” I gasped, trying to push his head away and not entirely sure if I wanted to.
He ignored me, his grip tightening on my thighs, holding me open for him.
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
