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Shaking my head in disbelief, I walk into the bathroom to calm myself down, so I won’t make a scene. Finally, the aftermath starts to catch up with me. The guilt and shame for enjoying the night with him is torturous. I try to stop the tears threatening to spill, squeezing my chest in misery. I splash my face with cold water.
A moment later, he comes in, irritated. “You can’t sleep with me and pretend you’re holier-than-thou, you know. We both gave into this with no strings attached, and if I remember correctly, we both wanted it.”
“Go fuck yourself.” I push him out of the way and storm into the room, feeling the raging emotions unraveling my common sense.
Not understanding why I feel so emotional about what he said, but unable to stop myself, I pick up a bucket of flowers from the nightstand and launch it, hitting the wall next to his emerging form.
The rage’s churning and self-loathing cripples me. I’ve always treated my body with respect. An unexpected sob catches in my heaving chest. Desperate to hide my feelings, I expect Logan to take the cue and leave me alone to my emotional tornado. But instead, his arms wind around me and his lips brush my temple.
“Shh, Angel, breathe,” he whispers soothingly.
I try to explain, “No, you don’t understand! I c-can’t be with you like this!”
It becomes too painful for me to bear the thought of him leaving me. Unable to comprehend the person, who skillfully stripped my defenses through passion, is not going to keep me or stay.
The possessive response is uncalled for. We made no promises to pursue the relationship. I feel the sharp ache in my chest rattling me in an unreasonable state of terror.
How the hell did I let this happen! Why now, when I had such a perfect system helping me to get through the day? Why did I allow
my defenses to fall down as soon as he took me on a wild ride? I sob, hating my weaknesses, for letting myself feel. I’m acting like a clingy idiot.
Emotions ride me hard towards a full-blown panic attack, and I start to feel lightheaded. My breathing becomes shallow and my face turns red, desperate for oxygen. I hide my face and sit on the floor next to the bed. I know the drill.
“Usually, I don’t sleep with men for enjoyment. If I stay, I won’t be able to keep myself from falling for you. A broken heart is not what I want.”
I hope this will make him leave me to my impending doom. I don’t want him here when I lose control. I’m not wired for this. My aching heart begs me to keep him anyway. The starving piece of muscle loves to belong, wants things we no longer can have.
“I can’t give you what you want either, Cassandra. Why not take what I can offer instead? We’re both affected by this intense need.” He tries to reason with me. “I can’t make myself walk away from you just yet.” Puzzled, he admits to being unable to understand this lust.
My vision fades for a moment before I hear him say, “That’s it, beautiful. Breathe in and out, in and out. Keep going, let your body relax. It’s ok, you’re good.” He continues to speak in soft, calming tones, while stroking my back.
I force myself into my designed shell and regain balance. As he draws me onto his lap, I lay my head on his warm chest, and promptly fall asleep in his embrace.
A gentle brush across my cheek stirs me awake. I look around, unsure of the time.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” Logan asks, searching my gaze. Nervously, I swallow few times, trying to wet my dry mouth before speaking.
“I feel calm, and thank you for not leaving me. I expected you to run after your encounter with an emotional one-night stand.” It’s endearing that he stayed. My cheeks glow in embarrassment, but I force a smile.
From a very young age, I learned to hide my insecurities. I learned how to suppress my feelings when dealing with stress. I trained myself how not to linger on dark reactions.
That’s how my parents taught me to be. “Sandra, don’t feel sorry or linger on your bruised knee. Stand up and go forward, do your best not to make the same mistake again. Everyone’s trying to survive; sympathy and concern belong to weak people.”
“I still have plenty time to get to the airport if I hurry up. My passport and ticket are ready, clothes and shoes are packed.” Now I need to sort out my own face and change.
I try to slip from Logan’s arms locked around my waist, but he pulls me back to him. “Don’t go, Cassandra. Not yet, not today. Let’s just be, and enjoy each other.” His warm breath cascades down my skin as he pleads.
“I can’t lose the last shred of respect I’m still holding onto, Logan. This is all I can spare.” He has the power to absorb my resolve until I’m left with a consuming longing that wipes out the need to maintain my principles.
Afflicted, he lets go of me and I run to the bathroom, grabbing my stuff as silent sobs rock me. I turn on the faucet to muffle the sound. After cleaning my face, I apply my makeup and change my top and underwear, then hurry to slip into yesterday’s jeans and boots.
As I reemerge, Logan’s standing by the window, almost like the first time we met. A shiver runs down my spine as he turns and locks his unyielding eyes on mine. Hello, King of the Jungle, don’t pounce, please. I internally laugh, and he stalks me until I hit the far wall with my back. I squeak in surprise.
“And here she is, my little mouse,” he says jokingly, then takes fierce possession of my lips, dissolving all drama remains from our minds.
Yet, I can’t explain the feeling he creates in me when I’m with him like this. This man is a wholesome soul, and I’m broken imposter synthetic doll. We don’t belong together.
His lips are demanding and warm against mine, and I forget tragic things. Instead, I surrender to his soothing essence filling me up. Breathless with desire, I look at his untamed eyes that remind me of the green forest, and his lips, swollen from our kisses.
