Page 102 of Hearts Storm

“Yeah.”

He follows me inside, and I close the door behind us, flipping the lock. The familiar scent of home wraps around me as we stand in the entryway. Without me having to say a word, Logan toes off his shoes, lining them up neatly next to mine against the wall.

“Do you want a drink?” I ask, heading toward the kitchen. “I could use another glass of water.”

“Sure.”

Grabbing two glasses from the cabinet, I fill them from the filtered water pitcher in my fridge.

Fingers brushing mine as I hand it to him, he raises it to his lips.

Mesmerized, I watch as his throat works with each swallow. Tendons in his neck flex as my gaze travels down to where the first three buttons of his shirt are open, showcasing the light dusting of hair on his chest.

My mouth goes dry, and I have to focus not to choke on my water. All I can think about is dragging my tongue up the column of his throat, tasting the salt on his skin, feeling his pulse hammer against my lips.

Logan sets his glass on the counter, eyes locking onto mine.

“Bedroom?” The single word comes out as a command, low and dark, a promise.

Heat flushes my skin as I take both glasses, rinsing them quickly before putting them into the dishwasher. When I turn back around, he’s watching me with that same smoldering look, and my heart kicks hard against my ribs.

Reaching out, I take his hand, lacing our fingers together as I lead him down the short hallway to my bedroom. The curtains are still drawn, leaving only a thin sliver of moonlight cutting through the gap, painting a pale stripe across the hardwood floor.

It’s dark enough that I can barely make out the shape of my bed against the far wall, the nightstands on either side, and the armchair in the corner where I usually toss my clothes at the end of the day.

Logan releases my hand and shrugs off his jacket, tossing it onto the chair before going for his belt.

“Um.” I swallow, suddenly nervous. “I’m going to take a quick shower.”

He stops unbuckling his belt. “No way you’re washing me off of you.” The growl in his voice sends a shiver straight down my spine. “I’m not done with you yet, Angel.”

My stomach flip-flops. “I need to freshen-up. Wash my makeup off.”

He studies me for a beat, then resumes slowly unbuckling his belt. “Fine.” His fingers move to the buttons of his shirt, popping them loose one by one. “But don’t you dare wash that pussy. It’s still mine to play with.”

Holy shit.

My thighs clench together, and I’m pretty sure I stop breathing for a solid three seconds. The dark, possessive edge in his voice makes my knees want to wobble.

“O-okay,” I stammer, turning on my heel.

Practically fleeing to the bathroom, I shut the door behind me.

Pressing my palms to my burning cheeks, I face the mirror. My lips are still swollen from his kisses, and there’s a faint bruise forming on my collarbone from where he bit me.

Only one word comes to mind.

Claimed.

The thought sends a fresh wave of heat pooling between my thighs.

Never figured I’d be living out my own spicy romance, but here I am.

Stripping off my clothes, I step into the shower. Steam billows around me as I scrub the remnants of mascara and lipstick from my face. Lathering my hair with coconut-scented shampoo, I’m careful to keep the spray away from my core, just like he told me to.

Because apparently, now I’m the kind of woman who follows orders. Well, at least when they come from Logan Cade.

This is something I might have let get to me in the past. But that’s not who I am anymore.