Logan (Filthy Rich Alphas)

I quirked my brows.

“We’ll do every damn thing you can think of.”

I parted my lips in shock.

“Just give me a signal, Mia. Just let me know when I go too far or when you want,” he licked his lips, “me to stop.”

“I don’t think I would ever want you to stop.” I raised my hands to his face, smoothed my index finger along one cheekbone, and then the other. He went completely still, only the faint flicker of his eyelids giving away that my touch affected him.

He hadn’t shaved this morning and the stubble on his face was scratchy. I got a quick urge to have him rub his roughened cheeks all over the sensitive spots of my body. A vision of those rough caresses hit me, and I trembled at the pleasure it would bring.

“I shouldn’t do this.” I traced his mouth. “But, I really want to.”

Slowly, I drew a soft line along the curve of his upper lip and then the full lower lip. My finger lingered at the corners of his mouth.

His breath brushed against my fingers. “You’re torturing me.”

“I think I like torturing you.”

He parted his lips, capturing the tip of my finger between them and tenderly biting the tip.

Moaning, I lost myself in the pleasure.

Groaning, he sucked my finger into his warm mouth, and I had no more control—no will to hold me back.

Tonight was supposed to be about breaking up with Dummy, not fucking his best friend. Yet, dear God, all I yearned to do was fuck Logan.

Could anyone blame me?

Logan slipped his hands up my back, cupped my nape, and our mouths crashed into each other. Sucking and licking. We both left reality, so lost in the touch of each other, the erotic spark of electricity charging between us.

Suddenly, I realized I was starving for him. It was like he wove a spell around me with the first kiss so that I could never escape. I no longer cared about how fast or slow we went, just that his lips remained on mine, and that the moment would last, and the past would remain in the past—all blurry and forgotten.

I didn’t know what our future held, but I knew it would be tantalizingly good and filled with pleasure.

I need him so bad.

He left my mouth for a second and gazed at me like a wild and hungry man. “I may never stop kissing you.”

“And I may never ask you to stop.”

Our lips met again.

Every time his mouth connected with mine, lust prickled in my gut. Not fear or worry, just need and yearning. I opened my mouth and breathed him inside of me, wishing he could enter me deeper.

How could such a big, muscled man possess a mouth that was so soft and sweet?

His warm tongue tangled with mine, showing off his skills. The space between my thighs warmed in desire. It was a slow, ravenous burn deep inside of me, flaming and rising. Burning me from the inside, making me so hot I was close to tearing his shirt off.

The slow kisses gave way to hot, frantic ones.

Finally, he broke our long-heated kisses. We both panted as he leaned his mouth against my forehead.

In a deep and sexy tone, he whispered, “Mia.”

“Yes.”

And then all the magic disappeared when Tyson’s voice filled the kitchen.

“What the fuck?!” He stomped forward but kept five feet between us. “How long has this been going on?”

Shit. Now you come to get your shit?! Really?

“Not long.” Logan put me behind him. “But I’m glad you showed up.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Rage decorated Tyson’s face as he edged closer. “Not long, motherfucker?”

Panic and guilt swept through me. And then I remembered that Tyson was the asshole. He was the one that had violated friendships and relationships first.

He was the dummy.

“Hold up.” I walked around Logan. “Don’t worry about how long. Just get your sneakers and boxes and everything else out of my place. Now!”

“Get out of your place?” Tyson didn’t move. Instead, he glared at Logan, not even looking my way. “It’s like that?”

I pointed to in the direction of my bedroom. “Get your shit and go!”

“Why Mia?” Again, Tyson’s attention remained on Logan. “Because you’re sucking his dick now?”

“How dare you?” I rushed over to him. “You think you’re going to gaslight me now?”

Logan came with me, remaining at my side. He formed his hands into fists.

“Go!” I shoved at Tyson’s arm, wishing I were bigger. “You’re a piece shit. You’ve been fucking my best friend this whole time.”

Tyson clenched his jaw.

“Go!” I pushed at him again.

Tyson barely moved.

Although wild rage blazed over Logan’s face, he tenderly moved me out of the way, encircling my hips with one hand and guiding me to the other side of the kitchen.

And then he turned around, stomped over to Tyson, and stood directly in front of him. A violent edge thickened Logan’s voice. “Did you hear her?”