He withdraws from me, and I’m left wet and well worked. My arms and legs are limp, and I can barely think. “Are you asking me if I’m going to leave again?”
He nods. “And other things.”
“What other things?”
He stands up, and… Goodness, he’s beautiful naked. He’s beautiful with clothes on, too, but naked…my goodness. He’s a work of art.
“I want you to f**king marry me, Em,” he says.
My heart trips a beat. “Well, that’s the worst proposal ever,” I joke.
“Tell me this is real,” he implores me.
I take his hand and look into his blue eyes. “It’s as real as it gets,” I say.
He pulls me to my feet. “Good.”
“You’re staying the night, aren’t you?” I ask. He had better be.
He grins at me. “Why should I?”
“Because I will be hurt if you leave.” I’m honest, and his face softens.
“Of course, I’m not leaving, dummy.” I thrill at the term of endearment. There was a time a word like that hurt me, but not from him.
“Want to go take a shower?” I ask.
He shakes his heads, nuzzling his five-o’clock shadow into the side of my neck. “I plan on messing you up again,” he warns, waggling his brows at me. “I’ll get a washcloth from the bathroom so we can clean up.” He tweaks my nose. “You’ll sleep better that way.”
He turns around, and I see the words tattooed across his hip: My name is Emily.
It’s in my handwriting, as if he took the note and photocopied it over his skin. It’s from when I first told him my name. I’d written it down for him as a surprise. “You put my note on your ass.”
“I wanted to remember it forever,” he says. He looks deep into my eyes, and tears sting the backs of my lashes.
“You did this after I left.” I don’t need to pose it as a question. I already know the answer.
He nods. “Loved you then. Love you now.”
I take his AC/DC shirt from my closet. I’d unpacked a bit before I went to the club.
“You had my shirt all this time?” he asks.
“It’s not your shirt,” I grouse. “It’s mine.” I’d taken it with me when I left and slept in it every night since. “Possession being nine-tenths and all,” I say. But he’s grinning as I pull the covers back and climb between the sheets.
“What kind of sheets are these?” he asks, sliding his thumb across the threads.
The really expensive kind. “They’re just sheets.” I don’t want to talk about thread counts or anything else. I just want him to hold me. He reaches a wet rag toward the apex of my thighs, and I intercept it. “I can do that.”
He holds tightly to it for a second. “I like taking care of you,” he says.
My face flushes with heat. “Give me some time to adjust to having you around, will you?” This is all new to me, this level of intimacy. I’ve never experienced it before.
His eyes narrow. “You had better get used to it quick.” He pats his tatted chest. “Because what you see is what you get.”
He’s so much more than what people see. I just wish he knew it as well as I do.
Logan lies down and pulls me onto his chest. His lips touch my hair. I’m wearing his shirt and nothing else, and he’s naked. He’s tense beneath me, and his belly flinches when I lay my hand upon it. The sheet twitches. I look down at where the covers drape the lower half of his body. I can’t help it. I lift it up and peek underneath. The crown of his dick arches toward me.
“You want to go to sleep?” I ask.
He shakes his head and rolls me over. He’s inside me before I can blink, and I’ve never felt more at peace.
###
The phone rings the next morning, jolting me out of my peaceful state. Logan is sound asleep, one of his legs tossed over my naked bottom. His arm is wrapped around my back so tightly that I have to untangle his limbs from mine to reach for the phone.
“’Lo,” I mutter.
Logan lifts his head, his eyebrows drawing together.
“Miss Madison?” a voice says.
“Yes?” I sit up on my elbows, brushing my hair back from my face.
“Miss Madison, it’s Henry.”
I wipe the sleep from my eyes. “Mmm hmm,” I murmur. My cheek falls back toward the pillow. Logan’s lips nuzzle my temple.
“Miss Madison,” Henry says. “I thought you’d want to know that your parents just arrived. They’re on their way up.”
Logan
Emily jumps to her knees and scrambles bare-assed across the bed. God, she’s pretty, even with her hair looking like she’s been tumbled in a dryer and the crease of the sheets across her cheek. I shake out my arm. It’s numb from where she’s been lying on it. Pins and needles reach from my fingertips to my armpits.
What’s wrong? I sign when I can feel my fingers again.
Parents are here, she signs back.
She slams the phone down and runs to her closet.
Shit. Her parents are here? This is not how I anticipated meeting them.
Don’t just lay there. She shoves my leg. Get dressed.
She runs out into the living room and comes back with my clothes and shoes, throwing them at me. I knock my shoes to the floor like I’m brushing a bug from my face.
Emily just rolls her eyes and shoots me a glare.