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“Oh?”
Jeni moved back a little and took off the long-sleeved shirt she wore, revealing the Chiefs T-shirt underneath.
The smile on his face in that moment was everything. It devastated her and restored her all at once.
“You must know how much I love you to wear this.”
“Nothing else you could do would mean more to me,” he said with a grin.
Jeni’s eyes tracked down his body. “Remember what you said? When you gave this to me?”
He lifted his eyes from her chest and the emblem emblazoned there, gaze burning.
“I can’t recall, exactly,” he said in a husky voice.
“I believe the gist was you’d consider my earlier proposition if I wore it.”
Logan coughed a little. “Um. Aren’t those propositions null and void? Now that we’re engaged?”
He had a point. “Yes. But that doesn’t change the fact that I want you. Do you want me?”
Instead of answering, he asked another question. “You want to be with me for real?”
“Yes.”
“Forever?”
“Yes.”
“We’re getting married someday?”
“We’re getting married someday.”
“Soon?”
“I said ye—”
Jeni’s response was cut off when Logan lurched forward, his hands on either side of her face, his mouth suddenly on hers in a kiss that was forceful and passionate and exactly what she needed. She sucked air in through her nose and pressed against his hard chest, her arms curving around his shoulders and back.
The worry and heartache that had built inside her over the last several weeks melted away with each touch and each press of his lips. His hands slid down to circle her waist, and she pulled her face back a little, lifting her hands to trace the wavy hair along his temples.
“I want you to keep the shirt on.” His voice was low and deep.
Fire exploded in her belly. She bit her lower lip. “Okay.”
His eyes dropped to her mouth and stayed there for a moment, and Jeni thought her heart might beat right out of her chest. He met her eyes again and tipped his head to the hallway.
She nodded eagerly, and seconds later they were in his bedroom, on his bed, limbs tangled and lips searching. His heavy breaths matched hers as various pieces of clothing came off—except the bright red T-shirt.
Logan hovered above her, the muscles in his arms and torso flexing with each move he made. Her skin was like a live wire, lighting up with every touch of his fingertips.
“I can’t be slow this time,” he said, his palm on the column of her throat, firm but not painful, fingers on her jaw as he nipped at her ear.
“Good,” she managed to get out. It was difficult to focus with his other hand roaming, but she was coherent enough to recognize that Logan Davis unhinged was something she wanted to experience. “I don’t want slow.”
He groaned, the deep vibration echoing through every cell in her body. His lips crashed down on hers, his tongue sliding inside her mouth. She arched up, wrapping one leg around his hips, searching.
Searching…
