“Yes.”
They said a quick good bye to the group who seemed to completely understand their need to be with only each other. The walk to Logan’s bike was made in silence. Chloe felt as though a weight was dangling from her heart, dragging her entire body down as she moved. Never chatty, Logan was even quieter than usual, but he held tight to her hand. The silence was just him processing the day’s events, and the physical contact was his way of making sure she knew he wasn’t neglecting her. Just working things out in his head.
When they reached his motorcycle, Chloe climbed on behind him after donning her helmet. The temp had dropped, so she snuggled closer to his back than usual. Oh, who was she kidding? She needed full-body contact. Skin on skin would have been better, but she’d take what she could get, so she held him tight, pressing her torso, thighs, breasts, and even helmet against him. He seemed to need her just as bad, frequently taking a hand off his handlebars to stroke it alone her jean-covered thigh.
The ride to his home passed in a blur of worst-case scenario thoughts bombarding her. By the time they arrived, Chloe was a mess of nerves. She needed him. Needed some kind of assurance he’d come back to her, in one piece—both his body and his mind. But he wouldn’t give it to her. Because he wouldn’t know for certain, and one thing Logan would never do was bullshit her with false promises and platitudes.
“Come on, baby,” he said.
Chloe started. Logan stood next to the bike, arm extended. Shit, she’d really been lost in her own head if she hadn’t even realized he’d climbed off the bike. With a heavy sigh, she removed the helmet and joined him, sliding her palm against his. Immediately, strong fingers close around hers, holding her in an unbreakable yet gentle grip.
Logan shortened his stride, matching hers as they climbed the walk to his house. Chloe felt like she was trudging through quicksand. Each step was heavy with resistance stemming from her absolute dread of the following day. The slower she walked into the house the longer it would take for Logan to leave, right?
Wrong.
After unlocking the door, Logan stepped aside so she could precede him into the house. Always looking out for her. Never would he leave her with her back unprotected. Suddenly, Chloe had the overwhelming urge to send him off with something to make him feel special. To make him remember what was waiting for him back at home.
Midway through the foyer, Chloe spun and dropped to her knees. Her hands went straight to the button of his jeans.
“Chloe, shit, babe,” Logan started but it turned into a growl when she freed his cock from his boxer briefs without even pushing his pants down. “You don’t have to—oh fuck,” he said as she licked his slit. Immediately, he stiffened from the attention, going from semi-hard to full-on lead pipe in about two seconds.
“I do, Logan. I do have to.” She licked him again, loving the way his hips jerked and he ground out a string of curses. “I need your taste on my tongue. Need to send you off that way. To give you something. Something you can think about when you’re away.”
He looked down at her, lust burning in his gaze as he gave her a single nod. Chloe turned her attention back to the rigid erection in her hand. “Just so you know,” he said as she opened her mouth over the head of his cock. Chloe paused, mouth wide, and canted her gaze up to him.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “Sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” He reached down to cup her jaw. “Just so you know, you don’t need to do a goddamned thing for me to think of you while I’m gone, Clo. You being you is enough to keep my mind occupied all the fucking time.”
Her heart swelled until it felt too big for her chest.
God, she loved him. Loved this man who had pulled her back into the real world when she’d been drowning under the strain of her issues and engaging in behavior that was sure to end in more harm than good.
Yeah, she loved him.
She just hoped she’d get the chance to tell him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHLOE’S GAZE MET Rocket’s, and for one second, he thought she was going to say something. There was a sadness in her eyes, not completely eclipsed by the lust, and he knew no matter what he did, he wouldn’t be able to dispel it tonight. The despair was a product of the circumstances, and he felt it as deeply as she did.
Giving in to Esposito’s demands was the last thing he ever wanted to do. Actually, it was the second to last thing. The absolute last, was to let Lefty get away with what he did to Chloe. And that was the one and only reason he’d be taking this job that would destroy what was left of his humanity. He could no more fight against his need to make that cocksucker pay than he could stop breathing. So the sadness would remain, for both of them, until he returned.