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Evidently breathing was optional when it came to sex with this woman. It had been like holding onto the tail of a hurricane.
Izzy rolled over in his arms, her eyes hooded with sleepy bliss. “Pretty sure we just did that.”
He laughed and groaned as he eased away from her. “Just a sec.” He took care of the condom and snapped up his down coverlet, rolling them both under the cool fabric.
She curled into him, her cheek on his chest, their legs tangled. “I should be all responsible and go home, but—”
“Nope. You’re staying here so I can do that again with the morning sun streaming in.”
She sighed and twisted her finger into his necklace. “Okay.”
He rubbed his chin over the top of her head. “Okay.” He couldn’t remember a time that he’d been so content. He reached for the smart remote on his bedside table and killed the lights. “I’m not going anywhere, you know.”
“Oh, really? Not shooting out of town like a bullet when the festival is over?”
He stared up at the skylight. The huge panel was the only way to get light in his room without giving up way too much access to the telephoto lenses that ruled his life lately. “No. I’m taking some time off. I want to spend it with you, Iz.”
“Yeah?”
He stroked his hand up her hip to the side of her breast then back down. “If that’s all right with you.”
She brushed a kiss over his neck. “More than okay. I’ll enjoy you as long as you’re here, Logan.”
“What about when I have to go?” He held his breath.
“I don’t know. You’ll probably be the hardest man I’ve ever had to get over.”
He linked their fingers and pulled her hand to his mouth. “I don’t want you to get over me. I want you to be with me.” The minute he said it, he wish he hadn’t. He didn’t have any right to ask that of her. Not when he hadn’t told her about Aimee.
But he knew he was better with Izzy. Knew that he could handle things now.
“You’re just in that post-coital glow.”
He dragged her over him. “No. I’ve had good sex before.”
She flattened her palms into his chest. “Logan, let’s just take it slow.”
He slid his hand around the back of her neck and drew her down to him. “I want this. You want this.”
She shook her head, but met his mouth in the same hot, hard kiss. He reached for the drawer, readied himself, and slid into her welcoming heat. The pace was slower this time. Darkness and starlight were their only witnesses.
It was enough.
He stroked her mouth with his tongue and her pussy with his cock as she assured her, in the only way he knew how, just how much he needed her. She gasped into his mouth, broke around him, and he held her tight.
Held onto her like a lifeline.
Twenty-One
Bella shoved her head under the pillow. Too bright, too loud.
Sun streamed through the room and her phone was going off from somewhere across the room.
Logan was sprawled on his belly next to her, his arm heavy across her waist. She buried herself further under the pillow. Finally the ringer stopped only to start over again with its eerie piano.
“Is there a reason why Michael Myers is in my bedroom? Is he going to kill us?”
She giggled out a moan. “Ringtone.”
