Visiting Willowbend Bridge to read my latest letter to Ryan only dragged up the dark thoughts even more, making them more prevalent within my mind. But I know that if I truly want to move forward with Logan and give our relationship a real chance, I have to allow my husband to be part of my past, and not someone I’m actively trying to keep alive in my present.
This letter felt like a goodbye, but the pain wasn’t sharp and stabbing as I’d anticipated. It was a dull sort of throbbing, a gentle reminder of what once was. And the only reason it didn’t hurt the way I thought it would is because of the man who, in just a few short months, has become a light I didn’t realize I needed.
His name flashes across my phone as it vibrates in my hand, letting me know he’s here, and a smile spreads across my face. Briefly, I wonder if I should throw on something more substantial. He has seen me dressed up for dates, for work at the diner, and stripped down to nothing, and yet greeting him at the front door in my pajamas feels like another layer of vulnerability. My hair is thrown up into a messy bun, the shorter tendrils in front having fallen to frame my face, and I’m not wearing even a hint of makeup.
When I slowly open the door, wincing slightly at the creak the old hinges make, a bright smile spreads across his face. What he’s wearing could technically be classified as pajamas as well, though I know for a fact the man prefers to sleep in just his briefs or completely nude. He’s wearing a faded T-shirt and gray joggers, because of course they’re gray. His light brown hair is still damp from showering, and the man actually has flip-flops on as though he couldn’t be bothered to take the time to put on socks and shoes.
“Damn, darlin’. You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he says, stepping over the threshold and pulling me into his arms. The warmth of his body wraps around me like a blanket, and I melt into his embrace as all of the spiraling dark thoughts vanish from my mind.
“I missed you,” I tell him, tightening my arms around his waist as my head rests against his chest.
He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I missed you too, baby. Two days away from you was two days too many.” He takes a few steps forward, his arms remaining wrapped around me as he guides me back just enough to gently close the door behind him.
I tilt my head back, my eyes meeting his, then dropping lower. My tongue swipes between my lips, and then he’s kissing me. His mouth crashes into mine as he moves a hand to the back of my head, holding me to him. A whimper escapes me, and my hands move to his waist, clinging to the soft fabric of his shirt. His kiss eases every ounce of nervous energy that’s been coursing through me since I last saw him.
He’s here.
He’s safe.
He made it home.
The words repeat like a mantra through my mind as my pulse thrums, heat building between my legs. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know we shouldn’t be doing this out in the open, but I need a minute to revel in his presence, to know for sure that he’s alright.
His hand traces down my spine until his fingers slip beneath the thin, slinky fabric of my pajama top. It’s a pink, loose-fitting tank top with white stars all over, matching my shorts. He takes a small step forward, slipping his leg between my thighs. His fingertips dip beneath my waistband, gliding across my waist until he moves them lower, his palm flush against the soft swell of my stomach. A deep groan rumbles in his chest, his tongue licking at the seam of my lips before thrusting between them to brush against mine.
“Lo,” I whimper softly, both begging for more and needing him to stop until we make it to my bedroom.
“Mmm. Fuck, darlin’. I need you,” he rasps. His hand inches lower, his fingertips feathering over my sensitive clit, and it takes all of my inner strength to step back, removing his hand from beneath my shorts.
“We have to be quiet,” I murmur. He kicks off his shoes, and I bite back a laugh as I take his hand in mine, leading him toward my bedroom. Our steps aren’t nearly as quiet against the thin, worn-out carpet as I would like them to be, but we do our best to walk gently. I stop in front of Jake’s bedroom first, peeking in to make sure he’s still asleep before slowly pulling his bedroom door closed.
When we reach my bedroom, I glance over my shoulder at Logan, his body nearly flush against mine. “You know, I do actually want to talk to you,” I tease.
He hums in agreement as he steps even closer, his breath warm against my neck. “There’s plenty of time for talking after, darlin’,” he says. The desire radiating in his voice sends a delicious liquid heat straight to my core, my head tipping back to meet his shoulder as my teeth sink into my lower lip. With his hand still grasped in mine, I pull him inside and close the door behind us, turning the lock.
Releasing him, I spin around and crash my lips against his, throwing my arms around his neck to meld our bodies together. His hands are quick to grab my waist as he slips his tongue between my lips, swallowing my every sound. The gray joggers he’s wearing do absolutely nothing to conceal his arousal, his hard cock perfectly outlined behind the fabric.
We move in a frenzy, tearing at each other’s clothing like it’s burning our skin and we’re desperate to be rid of it. The hard planes of his pecs are dusted with dark hair, and my gaze drops to follow my hands as they travel lower, over his toned stomach and down to where his erectionstands proudly, waiting for my touch. He has explored and tasted every inch of my body, but I have yet to get my mouth around him.
If I’m being honest, it’s something I’ve been hesitant about. What if I’m bad at it after years of being out of practice? What if I try to take him too deep and it makes me gag? What if the nerves rolling through me make my mouth dry up like a desert, and my tongue ends up feeling like sandpaper against his shaft? What if—
“Tess.” His fingers curl beneath my chin, lifting my gaze to his as his thumb strokes along my jaw. “Staring at my dick like that is going to give me a complex.” He chuckles. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, darlin’?”
“I want to taste you,” I tell him honestly, and his eyes fall shut with a groan. “But what if I’m bad at it?” My voice is barely more than a whisper. Heat crawls up my neck, settling on my cheeks as I bite at the inside of my bottom lip.
“Ain’t no fuckin’ way that having your lips wrapped around my cock is gonna feel like anything other than heaven.” The conviction in his words and the way his dark green eyes hold mine is enough to have me pushing my shoulders back, planting a hand firmly between his pecs, and guiding him back toward the bed. The back of his legs hit the mattress, and he braces a hand behind him as he sits. Spreading his legs wide, his other hand grasps the base of his shaft, his gaze holding mine as he strokes his fist over it. “Come here,” he commands.
Flames lick across my skin as I move to stand between his legs, placing my hands on his thick thighs as I lean down to brush my lips over his. “Guide me,” I say softly, and he nods.
With one hand still wrapped around his dick, he uses the other to brush the few loose tendrils of my hair behind my ear as I sink to my knees. “Take your time, darlin’.”
Replacing his hand with mine, I lean forward and lick across the rounded head, my eyes on his as I taste his pre-cum for the first time.
“Fuck,” he bites out.
That single syllable sparks a confidence in me that has me moving closer. I hold his gaze as I trail my tongue down either side of his shaft, watching the way he fights to keep his eyes open and on me, his chest rising and falling with silent panting breaths. He’s leaned back on his forearms, his hard-earned muscles on display, and his legs are spread wide to accommodate me.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, there’s a hint of insecurity about what I must look like to him right now. Naked and kneeling before him with every roll, dip, and curve of my generous body on display. I probably should’ve left my pajama top on, or maybe I should’ve insisted that he scoot farther back on the bed so I could lie between his legs on my stomach to hide that part of me. But that position wouldn’t grant me this view. It wouldn’t allow me the chance to watch his head drop back with a deep, guttural groan as I seal my lips around his swollen crown.
