also saw something else. Hurt. God … I ’ m sorry . I didn ’ t want to hurt you … “Logan…”
“Maybe my hearing is fucked up. Did you tell me to stop? Even once?”
Covering her face with her hands, Bo wished she could just disappear. She’d give anything to be anywhere but right here, right now. She jumped when he spoke right in her ear. “Did you, Bo?” he asked, his voice silky soft.
She looked up. His expression almost had her sidling away from him. The wall wouldn’t allow her to back up farther but she could already see a line of retreat if she just inched her way around him. Coward . Bo set her jaw and looked up at him. She’d been running from him for the past four years because of that one night. Because of what he’d made her feel, what he’d made her hope for. It was that, really, that had made her run. After the night they’d shared, if she hadn’t run…she could just see them together. She’d fantasized about just that for so long.
And if she was wrong, if Logan didn’t want much more than that one night, Bo wasn’t certain she could handle it. Cowardly and weak, she thought bitterly. Damn it , you ’ re pathetic , Bo . She swallowed. Met his gaze head-on and said in a level voice, “No, I didn’t tell you to stop.”
His hand cupped her cheek and she turned her face into his touch, needing it. Holy hell, she’d missed him. The past four years had been like she was slowly bleeding inside. Dying, bit by bit. She missed him. She’d adored Logan for more than half her life. Idolized him. He was one of her best friends—he was the one she ran to when she needed somebody, whether it was advice, a shoulder to cry on or somebody to yell at. And he’d always been there.
When she had run from him, she had cut herself off from that. His thumb stroked over her lower lip. Just that simple, chaste touch was enough to have her senses sizzling. She sighed raggedly.
“I’d never hurt you, Bo,” he murmured. His voice no longer sounded so stiff and distant. It was soft, low and rough—hypnotic. He pressed his mouth against her neck, tracing a light pattern on the sensitive skin there. “Never.”
Her voice shook as she answered, “I know that, Logan.”
“Do you?” he asked quietly. He nuzzled her neck and then lifted his head so he could bite her ear. That soft, careful nip affected her in so many ways. Her knees buckled and she would have collapsed to the floor if he hadn’t wrapped an arm around her and braced her body against his own.
He kissed her then, a soft, gentle kiss that was a seduction all on its own. The hand cupping her face moved down to curve around her neck, his thumb resting just above her pulse. She arched up, tried to take the kiss deeper but he eased her back with the hand he kept at her throat. He lifted his head. Their gazes locked. The look in his eyes was enough to melt metal, so hot, the pale golden brown dark with desire.
He wrapped a hand around her wrist and lifted it to his mouth, staring at the discolored marks there. He kissed the faint bruises on her wrists and shame twisted in her belly. She’d always bruised easily—always. The night they’d spent together, she’d had bruises on her wrists, ankles and thighs but not because he had hurt her. He hadn’t, not once. But she knew he didn’t like seeing those dark marks on her. “I was rough with you,” he whispered against her flesh.
She blushed. “I loved every second.”
He looked at her from under his lashes. He looked so serious. So solemn. “Maybe you didn’t tell me to stop.” He rubbed a thumb over the bruises on her wrist and said, “But that wasn’t how I wanted this. I waited four years to touch you again and then I fucked you up against a wall.”
He might not be pissed anymore but the broody, intense look wasn’t much better. The tension in the air was enough to choke her but she managed a smile. “I don’t have any complaints.”
“Oh, I know.” He touched the tip
“Maybe my hearing is fucked up. Did you tell me to stop? Even once?”
Covering her face with her hands, Bo wished she could just disappear. She’d give anything to be anywhere but right here, right now. She jumped when he spoke right in her ear. “Did you, Bo?” he asked, his voice silky soft.
She looked up. His expression almost had her sidling away from him. The wall wouldn’t allow her to back up farther but she could already see a line of retreat if she just inched her way around him. Coward . Bo set her jaw and looked up at him. She’d been running from him for the past four years because of that one night. Because of what he’d made her feel, what he’d made her hope for. It was that, really, that had made her run. After the night they’d shared, if she hadn’t run…she could just see them together. She’d fantasized about just that for so long.
And if she was wrong, if Logan didn’t want much more than that one night, Bo wasn’t certain she could handle it. Cowardly and weak, she thought bitterly. Damn it , you ’ re pathetic , Bo . She swallowed. Met his gaze head-on and said in a level voice, “No, I didn’t tell you to stop.”
His hand cupped her cheek and she turned her face into his touch, needing it. Holy hell, she’d missed him. The past four years had been like she was slowly bleeding inside. Dying, bit by bit. She missed him. She’d adored Logan for more than half her life. Idolized him. He was one of her best friends—he was the one she ran to when she needed somebody, whether it was advice, a shoulder to cry on or somebody to yell at. And he’d always been there.
When she had run from him, she had cut herself off from that. His thumb stroked over her lower lip. Just that simple, chaste touch was enough to have her senses sizzling. She sighed raggedly.
“I’d never hurt you, Bo,” he murmured. His voice no longer sounded so stiff and distant. It was soft, low and rough—hypnotic. He pressed his mouth against her neck, tracing a light pattern on the sensitive skin there. “Never.”
Her voice shook as she answered, “I know that, Logan.”
“Do you?” he asked quietly. He nuzzled her neck and then lifted his head so he could bite her ear. That soft, careful nip affected her in so many ways. Her knees buckled and she would have collapsed to the floor if he hadn’t wrapped an arm around her and braced her body against his own.
He kissed her then, a soft, gentle kiss that was a seduction all on its own. The hand cupping her face moved down to curve around her neck, his thumb resting just above her pulse. She arched up, tried to take the kiss deeper but he eased her back with the hand he kept at her throat. He lifted his head. Their gazes locked. The look in his eyes was enough to melt metal, so hot, the pale golden brown dark with desire.
He wrapped a hand around her wrist and lifted it to his mouth, staring at the discolored marks there. He kissed the faint bruises on her wrists and shame twisted in her belly. She’d always bruised easily—always. The night they’d spent together, she’d had bruises on her wrists, ankles and thighs but not because he had hurt her. He hadn’t, not once. But she knew he didn’t like seeing those dark marks on her. “I was rough with you,” he whispered against her flesh.
She blushed. “I loved every second.”
He looked at her from under his lashes. He looked so serious. So solemn. “Maybe you didn’t tell me to stop.” He rubbed a thumb over the bruises on her wrist and said, “But that wasn’t how I wanted this. I waited four years to touch you again and then I fucked you up against a wall.”
He might not be pissed anymore but the broody, intense look wasn’t much better. The tension in the air was enough to choke her but she managed a smile. “I don’t have any complaints.”
“Oh, I know.” He touched the tip
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