Page 216 of It Should Have Been You

A small smile curls on my mouth. I wasn’t expecting him to ask that, but the answer screams at me as I press my hand to his chest. “Yes.”

I never thought I would see the day when I could answer that honestly to another man.

He places a chaste kiss to my forehead. “Good. Can I try something?”

Confused, I shift on my feet, but agree with a nod.

He wraps a strong arm around my waist and in one swoop he places me on the vanity. My dress crawls up my thighs, but I don’t dare move. Not when he’s looking at me like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Heat flushes over my body. It’s hard not to squirm under the weight of his stare, but I’m pinned. I don’t think I could move if I wanted to.

With his eyes still locked with mine, he grabs the lipstick and removes the cap.

“You see,” he starts, positioning himself between my legs. My breath catches with the friction. “Anyone with eyes can see that you’re beautiful. You don’t need red lipstick to prove that, but you want it. And what do I always say you have?”

“The power,” I breathe.

“Exactly, baby. And a powerful woman should get what she wants. Lesser men will feel threatened by it which is why they will try to break you. Poor bastards.” He chuckles but it’s dark, full of sin, and my thighs clench around his waist. “No one can break you.”

My heart stops when he pinches my chin between his fingers, tilting my head back as he parts my mouth just like Rob did before he called me a whore and smudged red all over my face, but Logan’s touch burns for another reason, and suddenly the touch before doesn’t matter. It goes up in smoke.

“You’ve taken back the power of all the big things in your life, and I’m so fucking proud of you. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have the power over the little things.”

Like red lipstick.

A split second before he presses the stick to my lips, he kisses me like he wants one taste before the lipstick stains my mouth and I change. Like he’s convinced I won’t be the same woman after.

The man who relies on a steady hand for a living is suddenly shaking as he presses the lipstick to my mouth. His gaze darts from my lips to my eyes, and then he spreads the red. And like the flip of a switch, the air becomes thick. His chest heaves, and I think my breathing is non-existent.

Trembling, I reach out and press my palm to his chest where his heart beats bruising rhythms against my touch.

He halts his movements before blowing out a long breath and continuing.

“Your heart is racing,” I murmur with him still holding my chin.

“It always does around you.”

He pulls away, but only an inch to inspect his work with a satisfied grin. “Still beautiful.”

I almost don’t want him to stop. I want to stay here in this moment, with my face in his hands and believing I can take on the world when he looks at me that way.

He finally puts the lipstick down before he holds either side of my head, and the look in his eyes is enough to knock whatever air I have left from my lungs. Tears sting my eyes, but for a different reason than when I walked in here.

This man is fighting to pull all the strength hidden in my body just so he can hold it and hand it back to me.

I feel strong.

Over some stupid lipstick.

It’s ridiculous if I think about it long enough so I don’t. I stay here, in the moment with Logan.

“Your beauty isn’t what makes you powerful. It’s your fight. Your spirit. And no one can break your spirit but you, baby. The power is yours.” He tucks my hair behind my ear, leaving a shiver in the wake of his touch. “You can easily bring any man to his knees, and for you, I’d happily spend the rest of my life kneeling.”

It’s what all of this has been about. He wants me to feel the power I have.

My spine stiffens and the familiar warmth pools between my legs.

My power.

My power over him.

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