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"It's called the Baños del Carmen. Evidently, it's supposed to be one of the most romantic places in the city for dinner," Logan explains as he wraps an arm around my waist and starts to lead me to the entrance.
And it was romantic. I'm not sure how you couldn't feel that, dining on the rooftop bar overlooking the Mediterranean as a guitarist strummed soft music.
Or maybe it was the way Logan was looking at me. Like I was everything he'd ever wanted. Like he could see all of my flaws and still wanted me desperately.
I think I was looking at him the same way.
We talked about his dad retiring from the military, about his sisters, some of their husbands, and his nieces and nephews that he adored. I got to know this adult version of Logan for really the first time. And honestly…I liked him just as much as the boy version that I'd been so gone for.
I asked him question after question, hardly letting him ask me anything. I wanted to know everything about his life that I'd missed.
After eating, he took my hand and we began to walk along the beach. "Don't think I didn't notice how you barely let me ask you any questions," he admonishes.
I blush, sure it’s visible even in the darkness, thanks to the almost otherworldly moon shining down on us.
He stops us and pulls me into his arms. "There isn't anything about you I wouldn't want to know. There's nothing you could tell me that would diminish the fact that you're written in my soul."
He takes a deep breath, and I can't look away from him. I'm enthralled by everything about him. He's beautiful. Everything about him is so fucking beautiful.
"You don't have to be alone anymore," he continues. "I'm not sure what you wanted when you wrote those letters. But now that I've got you back, I'm never letting you go. You can let me keep your heart this time. I promise I'll keep it safe."
Let him keep my heart this time? How does he not realize that I never took my heart back?
"Logan," I whisper. All the words I want to say on the tip of my tongue.
It isn’t a surprise at all to find him moving toward me and me toward him. Our lips meet and lock. He cups his hand around my neck and brings me closer to him, holding me firmly. As if he’s frightened I’ll pull away.
I learned my lesson a long time ago though. I would never pull away from him again. Not until I was forced to.
Gently, Logan kisses first my bottom lip, then my top, taking his time even, though everything in me wants to go faster. His tongue sweeps in, teasing me, tasting me. I open for him in sweet surrender. Sweeter still, he opens for me, giving me his whole self, holding nothing back.
We kiss with the exploration of a first kiss. Tentatively at first, then with complete and utter focus. Because even though we’d had our mouths on each other before, this was different. We were different.
We linger in this kiss. We lavish. We luxuriate. I wrap my arms around his neck to draw him nearer, then cling on tighter to support my weak knees. I fall into him. I melt. And he melts into me. Filling my spaces, smothering my emptiness. Making me whole. Making me free.
Just like he always did for me growing up.
“Should we go back to the hotel?” he whispers in a gravelly voice as he finally pulls away from me. I just nod, knowing I’m incapable of speaking at the moment. We practically run back to the road, hailing a cab almost desperately and hopping inside of it as soon as it pulls up. Logan quickly gives the driver directions, then turns to look at me, his eyes burning and blazing with want and affection.
I don’t think once before climbing into his lap, straddling him. Our lips meet in desperation. His hand tangles in my hair, and my hands cup his face as my tongue traces love notes along his. This was the foreplay I’d been missing for the last ten years.
It is the most tender, sweetest foreplay that I’ve ever experienced. I know the driver is probably watching us, and I should be a little afraid that he is going to crash. But I couldn’t find it in myself to care.
All there is, is this. All there is, is us.
Logan’s hand wanders up my shirt to push my bra up and caress my breast. His thumb brushes over my nipple until I’m gasping into his mouth. He slides his hips forward, and I press my pelvis tightly to him so I can grind against his erection. When I can’t get the pressure I need through my skirt, I stop worrying about me and reach down to palm him through his pants. The feel of him—so hard, thickening further in my hand—I want more.
Logan bucks into my touch, and I’m about to unzip his pants, totally forgetting my surroundings, when the driver clears his throat loudly and mutters something in Spanish.
We stare at each other in shock at how far we almost went, and then I crawl off him, settling myself into the seat beside him as we both erupt in laughter. One glance at each other again, and our laughter stops as the heat continues to build between us. Logan runs his hand along my cheek, and I lean into his hand. I had lived so long without any affection that I’m desperate for it. Desperate for him and the way I know he can make me feel.
There is a difference in sex and making love, and I know that what Logan and I were about to do would be the latter.
I haven’t made love in ten years, and I miss that intimacy desperately.
After what seems like an eternity, the cab pulls up at the curb of the hotel. Logan quickly slides the driver some cash from his wallet, before grabbing my hand and hauling me out of the cab after him.
The walk through the lobby is the longest of my life, followed by an excruciatingly slow elevator ride, in which an older couple stares at us knowingly the whole time. I don’t blame them, the sexual tension between Logan and I is so thick that I’m sure we are sending off pheromones that would drive a nun crazy.
