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So much more.
Is this normal? Do neighbors always pin each other against a wall and choke the other until they’re ready to explode?
But I should know better because Logan’s presence has always whispered promises of so much more.
His thumb motions circles around my throat.
My eyes fall.
“Look. At. Me.” When my eyes meet his, he releases his grip and guides his fingers over my parted mouth. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting a man to possess you in the bedroom as long as he always protects you outside of it. The power is yours, baby. Never forget that.”
He backs away, leaving only cold air in his wake.
“And Beth?” He smirks, but my body hasn’t caught up yet, and I’m still spiraling. “I think you might be into it.”
“You think?” I blurt, trying to even my breathing.
He leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead.
My heart stops beating.
“Glad I could be of service. What else are friends for?”
I glare at him.
I’ve never hated the word more.
“See you in a couple of days, pretty girl. Stay out of trouble.” With a slow wink, he turns and walks away, leaving me on the verge of cardiac arrest and with a deep ache between my thighs.
I fall back against the wall and throw my head back.
What the fuck was that?
I stare after him, surprised when everything in me wants nothing more than for him to turn around and finish this.
His truck roars to life.
“Goodbye then,” I mutter under my breath just as the water in the pot boils over.
Thirty-Five
Cora:Girls are at your house with Maria. They had pasta and vegetables for dinner. Isabel napped for over an hour and did a number two. Hannah practiced her soccer most of the day. She’s getting so good. Have a great night. LOL.
Idon’t know how many times I’ve told her that LOL doesn’t mean lots of love, but she’s committed.
Logan is out front working on his bike with his T-shirt tucked into the back pocket of his jeans when I return home.
Jesus.
I swallow, licking a dry tongue over my lips.
Thank you, Universe.
Giving myself a quick minute to appreciate him in all his glory, I watch—without the slightest ounce of shame—the bulge in his bicep, the cords in his neck straining, the tightening of his stomach muscles, and then I wipe my mouth because I’m pretty sure I’m drooling. He knows I’m here, but he hasn’t looked up yet. I roll my shoulders back and palm my cheeks, trying to calm the blush I feel spreading.
Wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, he stands straight as I get out of the car and walk to him.
“You’re back.”
