Page 17 of Winter’s Fire

“Apart from the fact you haven’t said much, you just squeezed the blood out of my fingers.”

She hadn’t, not at all. It was barely even a nervous spasm. Was the man really that tuned into her? She might have scoffed when he’d made that remark about treating her with old-fashioned courtesy, but the truth was, she liked it. What would it be like if she ever found the guts to spit out her thoughts on them not faking it, and he agreed? To have a Dom who opened doors for her, and held her hand while she was getting into and out of the car?

And one who did all those things to you that you read about so avidly? Scary. That’s what it would be like. Bloody scary.

And what if that Dom was Logan?

She only realised the man uppermost in her mind had stopped walking when her arm extended backwards and she had no choice but to come to a halt.

“Lucy, we’re not moving one more step until you talk to me. And I want the truth.”

“Or what? You’ll spank me?”

“Don’t tempt me, darlin’. Have you forgotten our mission?”

For a moment she had, and had the grace to look shamefaced about it. “Maybe—for a moment. I was thinking about how different you are from Greg.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed—the frown gave him a stern look that made Lucy feel like a schoolgirl standing in front of her headmaster. “Greg?”

She straightened her spine and looked him in the eye. “The ex I mentioned.”

“But you’re thinking about him now?”

“Only in terms of how disappointing that relationship was. He wouldn’t do this.” She lifted their clasped hands. “I tried once—to be honest, I was glad when he made it clear he wasn’t into touchy-feely.”

“Why?”

The question surprised her, as did the certainty that she wouldn’t be allowed to dodge it. “Because his hands… they always reminded me of something you’d see on a slab at the fishmonger’s.”

“And this?” He squeezed her fingers, just enough pressure to tell her what he wanted to know.

Her smile turned into a sheepish chuckle. “Not a dead fish.”

To her surprise, he laughed. “Good. Now come here.”

Logan drew her towards him. Mesmerised by the low, powerful vibes of earthy masculinity emanating from him, she barely noticed when he released her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist. Just one arm, leaving her with a clear exit if she needed it. Needed… what? With barely a finger’s breadth between her and that impossibly hard chest, her ability to reason appeared to have absconded, possibly never to be seen again.

With Logan holding her like this, Lucy couldn't help herself. Magnetic attraction tugged her gaze to his. His gaze, dark with intent, laid her bare. There was no hiding from a man like him. Suddenly, all those romances with the sexy-as-hell Doms in them seemed a lot more like textbooks than works of fiction. Nervous anticipation had her stomach turning cartwheels, and she barely had enough saliva left to lick her lips.

“Do you know what it does to a man when a woman does that right in front of him?”

In the middle of her back, his hand was hot enough to melt steel. A frenzied whiplash of fiery energy arced between her nipples and her clit. Lucy sucked in her lower lip—this couldn’t be happening. They were in the park—there were dogs barking, the sounds of children playing, the distant growl of traffic. People didn’t get aroused in places like this, or get that wet, needy sensation between their thighs. And they sure as hell didn’t get urges that were usually satisfied in the bedroom.

“What—” Lucy cleared her throat of the strangled squawk and tried again. “What does it do?”

Good one, Luce. Her mouth had bypassed her brain and common sense, and grabbed the dragon by its tail.

His head lowered, and his lips captured hers as surely as his arm had captured her body. Without a thought for possible consequences, or what anyone passing by might think, Lucy stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around Logan.

An incandescent glow of satisfaction burst into life when he stiffened in her arms, but her victory was short-lived. Logan’s answer to the gauntlet she’d thrown down was to wrap her ponytail around his fist and pull her head back. Exposed, vulnerable, she could do nothing to resist the searing brand of his mouth on her throat.

Her whole body throbbed and ached for his touch. Her sex life was tinder-dry, and this male, hard all over, was igniting a blaze of want and need that had her ready to climb all over him. Her thighs pressed together—whether to stop her arousal or encourage it, she couldn’t say.

Truth be told, she couldn’t say much about anything. “Lo… gan.” His name came out on a broken sigh.

Teeth nipped at her earlobe. “Tell me what you want.”

His low voice reverberated through every cell in her body, stoking the blaze his body had started. There could be only one answer to his demand, and that was one of her own.