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It had been less than twenty-four hours since their makeout session in the kitchen, and Logan knew he was going to take her to bed before their food was brought to the table. He’d thought about all the ways it could go sideways, all the ways he might be hurt again, but the truth was, he just didn’t care anymore.
He wanted her, had never wanted anything or anyone the way he wanted her.
Then and now. It was just that simple.
Sitting across from her for two hours, watching her fingers wrap around her margarita glass, her lips part to take a bite, her eyes sparkle when she laughed… well, it was goddamn near the best aphrodisiac he could imagine.
By the time the server brought their check, Logan was anxious to leave the restaurant. He wanted to be back in Ella’s quiet house, wanted to be stripping off her clothes, kissing his way over every inch of her body.
He reached for the check and put his card on the tray, then waited as the server processed the bill.
“What are you thinking?” Ella asked.
He looked at her. “What makes you think I’m thinking anything?”
She glanced at his hand on the table. “You’ve always tapped your fingers when you’re thinking.”
He looked down and realized she was right: he was drumming his hands on the table.
The server returned and set down the check. Logan signed, then set the receipt on the edge of the table.
He returned his eyes to Ella. Once they took the next step, they’d be on unfamiliar ground.
The past would truly be the past, the future anything but certain.
He held her gaze. “I was thinking it’s time for me to take you to bed. If that’s something you still want, I mean.”
Her lips parted, and silence stretched long and thin between them, all the years they’d been apart collapsed into this one moment.
She leaned over the table. “Let’s get out of here, Logan.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice.
20
Gabriella cursed the fact that they’d left Logan’s car in a lot near the Hancock building. They hurried back to the Green Line in silence, Gabriella’s heart hammering in her chest, desire slick between her legs.
It was late, the station deserted, the fluorescent lighting casting weak, blue light across the concrete. He held her hand, making long strokes of her palm with his thumb, standing so close his thigh was pressed to hers.
By the time the train rattled to a stop in front of them, her need for him had grown to a fever pitch. The train was mostly empty, one or two people in the front cars, all looking exhausted.
She was relieved when Logan led her to one of the empty cars in the back. He slid into one of the seats and pulled her in after him. He took off his jacket and used it to cover their legs, then slid his hand under it to rest on her thigh.
She was breathing fast, and not from the walk to the train or the trip through the other cars. Her skin was buzzing with hunger for him, and she slipped her hand under the jacket and rested it on the rigid bulge between his legs.
She squeezed and a strangled groan escaped his lips, his cock lurching in his jeans.
A voice crackled to life over the speaker system and issued a garbled announcement as the train jerked into motion.
Logan moved his hands deeper between her thighs, and she let her legs fall open. His fingertips were hot against the skin of her inner thighs. They crept upward and slipped under her panties. She sucked in a breath as they skimmed her wet folds.
Unzipping his pants took longer than usual because of the awkward angle. She fumbled for a minute, distracted by the stroking of his fingers through the petals of her sex, demand rattling the cage of her body.
When she finally got them unzipped, she slipped her hand inside and took hold of him. He’d always been big, but part of her had wondered if her memory had gotten it wrong, if maybe he’d seemed big to her when they were teenagers because she was so young, a virgin until the night on a beach when they’d had sex for the first time.
But what was in her grasp was no figment of her imagination. His cock was long and thick, heavy in her hands, and a fresh surge of desire dampened her pussy as she stroked the silken shaft.
He slid two fingers inside her and she moaned just as the conductor entered the car. He glanced suspiciously at them before turning around and heading back toward the front of the train.
