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When he arched his eyebrow, she rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up. So, I’m pushing it down. Would it make you feel better if I had a total breakdown and freaked out on you right now?”

With a shrug, Logan gifted her with a small, amused smile. “Maybe.”

She shoved him in the arm. “Thanks.” He laughed and caught her hand, and she leaned forward to rest her forehead on his shoulder. “You do realize I wasn’t really raped, right?”

He stroked her hair, tangling his fingers through the long, dark tresses. “It was close enough.” Then he kissed her temple. “Too close.”

Her sigh was long and sad. Logan continued to brush her hair with his hand, and it lulled her into a warm sense of security. “So much has happened all at once. It’s impossible to take it all in. I need a break, just a little time out to do something normal and memorable. Last night, Dorian Wade was alive and scary. Today, he’s…gone. What if tomorrow it’s you or me?” Lifting her face from his sturdy shoulder, she met his gaze. “I don’t want to die with what he did to me being my sole source of experience with sex.”

Logan’s face drained of color. “You’re a vir—” He squeezed his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, thanks. No pressure or anything there. It’s been three years for me. I’m not exactly on the top of my game here, and I want you to have the best.”

She grinned and set both hands on his thigh to knead at the muscles bunching under her fingers. “I have a feeling you’ll rise to the occasion.”

Dropping his hand to study her, he shook his head. “I don’t have anything. No protection.” Just as soon as he said that, he hissed out a breath and pressed a fist to his forehead. “I can’t believe I just said that. I’m not considering this. It’s not going to happen. You’re not ready.”

But the more convinced he was that she wasn’t ready, the more she felt ready because she knew she could trust him implicitly. The “protection” aspect caused her a moment of pause, though. She bit her lip before an idea struck. With a gasp, she leapt off him and hurried to Mariah’s side of the room. Hitting pay dirt with the first drawer she opened in her roommate’s desk, she yanked out the foil package she found lying inside and whirled around to wave it victoriously.

His blue eyes flared as he stared at the condom. Then he slowly shook his head and whispered an obscenity. It was like watching the walls of his resistance crumble to dust. As she moved toward him, feeling powerful and excited, plus a little nervous and scared, he looked up.

“You know what you’re doing, right?” he croaked. “You’re asking me to deflower Trace Zukowski’s little sister. Paige—”

She pressed her fingers to his lips and drew in a sharp breath. Hearing her brother’s name caused her a moment of pain. She pictured him in her mind and bit the inside of her lip. But then she focused on the man sitting on her bed, his expression tormented as he watched her. And loved her.

“No,” she said. “I’m asking you to make love to the woman you claim you love and to help her heal from a horrible event.”

He shuddered and blinked a few dozen times. “You have to be sure about this, Paige. You have to convince me without a doubt that you’re ready.”

Before she could respond, he reached out and grabbed her between the legs. Paige yelped and jerked away from him.

Narrowing his baby blues, he lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not convinced.”

“Well, you caught me off guard. Damn it.” Knowing he’d done that on purposed to prove his point, she set her jaw hard and scowled at him. But she wasn’t going to give up. Grasping his wrist, she led him back to the spot he’d just touched, more slowly this time. Gently, she fit his hand into place.

As he sucked in a breath, she bit her lip and threw back her head.

The warmth of his palm seeped through her jeans and panties, making the muscles in her stomach clench as she used her hold on his wrist to rub him lightly against her. Immediately, her breasts tingled, and an electric pulse shot up the insides of her thighs. With a little moan, she shifted closer so she could use his hand more freely to grind over the sweet spot.

“See,” she panted, forcing herself to focus on his face. But when she saw the way his eyes had widened and his frame had frozen with either shock or horror, she flinched. “What’s wrong?”

It took him a second to tear his attention from his hand and lift his face. “I don’t think you realize just how incredibly hot it is to watch you touch yourself…with my hand.”

Using the hand between her legs, he drew her closer to snag the condom from her grasp. Then he tipped his face up for a kiss. Paige leaned down to meet him, and he tumbled her back onto the bed as soon as their mouths met. Without untangling his tongue from her, he tucked her under him on the mattress and took control of his grinding hand. She arched under him.

When he abandoned her lips to run his own down her throat, he groaned. “You asked for this.”

Oh, yes, she had. And she didn’t regret it at all. She loved the way his large protective body covered hers, how his mouth cherished her, and his hands worshiped everything they touched. When he sat up long enough to pull his shirt over his head, she sat up with him to stroke his bare chest, loving the way he let her curiously explore every inch.

Relishing the reverent look in his eyes when he helped her remove her shirt, she felt adored. They removed her bra in a united effort, and it seemed more meaningful to her that they did it together. He fitted his mouth over her breast as he unzipped her jeans. She moved with his every touch, bowled over by it all. This was really happening. She was with Logan, and they were going to go all the way.

She scissor-kicked her legs to assist with the removal of her jeans, then grinned at him when she went for his. He touched her face as he let her slide his pants down his powerful thighs. Once they were both stripped completely, she met his gaze to find him staring back, his eyes glittering with a euphoria she’d never seen on his face before.

“Want to help me with this?” he asked as he tore open the condom package.

Intrigued by the process, she scooted in to watch as he pinched the tip of the latex and rolled it into place. When she reached out with a shaking hand, he let her finish. Once he was covered completely, she let her fingers wander back up the entire length.

Logan shuddered and groaned. “You can be less gentle,” he said. “Here.”

After he showed her what he liked, she kept her fingers curled around him and pumped from tip to base. He buried his hand in her hair at the nape of her neck and pressed his forehead to hers. A couple more strokes later, he moaned. “Your turn.” Nudging her back onto the mattress, he asked, “What do you like?”

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