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“So you’re okay with doing crafts and cheesy shit with Rae and I over the next two days?”
The look he gives me makes it obvious he’s not only okay with it, he’s excited about it. “I’m fine with it, I promise. But can you promise me something in return?Pleasenever start a conversation with ‘I have something I want to talk to you about.’ It’s every man’s worst nightmare.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say and blow him a kiss. “Be home soon.”
Logan helps me cut out shapes for homemade Christmas ornaments, chop carrots for Santa’s reindeer, and hide the special night-before-Christmas treats I picked out (and know both girls will love). Eventually, we wrap presents. By the time we’ve finished all the preparations for what I hope will be the best Christmas of Rainey’s life, we’re exhausted. Logan and I flop onto the couch, with my back leaning into his chest.
I never expected how tiring kids are, or realized the joy they provide when they become your universe. The joy definitely makes up for the exhaustion. Logan reaches over and scratches my head, a sweet, eye-roll-to-the-back-of-my-head inducing gesture. “Good?”
I answer with a moan, and he pulls my hair loose from the high, messy bun it’s been in for hours. He moves from scratching and rubbing my scalp, to having me slide down into the floor in front of him, spoiling me with a full head and neck massage. The tension hiding in my shoulders melts away. I lean my neck as far back as it will go, and rest it between his knees, willing him to take the hint and kiss me.
He leans forward, meeting his lips with mine, but it’s an awkward kiss with my lips upside down from his. “C’mere,” he says, after dragging our lips apart. He meant for me to take a spot next to him on the couch, but I need to feel him against me. I climb on top of his lap and straddle him. I grind slowly against him and tease his lips open with my tongue.
Logan’s insisted for weeks there’s no need to rush anything between us. It charms me that he’s being a gentleman about our physical relationship, but my body’s grown impatient. The battery on my vibrator has to be on the edge of burnout.
He never elaborated on why he’s moving slowly with me, and at one point I questioned if the physical attraction wasn’t there for him. He proved otherwise with his thickness between us as we made out. The first two times I felt him against me, he pulled away and adjusted himself, creating room for us to touch without makingthatconnection our sole focus. He stopped pulling away soon after.
As I move against him, separated only by the thin layers of our pajama pants, he rubs back against me, slipping down and pushing forward. His lips break from mine and he flips my hair to the side, tucking it over the top of my left shoulder and baring the right side of my neck.
His tongue trails a hot, wet path as he explores my neck with his mouth. A deliberate press of Logan’s flattened tongue where my neck and collarbone dip together sets a fire between my legs as he slowly grinds himself against me. I tip my head back and groan from my pent up desire. The way he’s methodically barely brushing against me is building a perfect amount of pleasure and anticipation.
I don’t want to, but I slide my hips away from his, painfully aware of his absence. “If we don’t slow down . . . I’m gonna . . .”
“So, do it,” he challenges me.
He digs his hands into my sides and pulls me back to him, our hips meeting once again. Nothing but the thin layers of cotton between us prevent him from sliding inside.
My arms wrap under his, and I rest my hands on his shoulders, using them to pull his torso as close to mine as possible. He presses his cheek to mine, and I can feel his labored breathing warm against my ear. I throb as I swirl against him, quickening the pace and increasing the pressure.
Logan rumbles a low moan into my ear and the sound, coupled with his stubble now dragging down my neck with his lips, pushes me into the sweetest release. I bury my face into his neck to stifle my moans, remaining there like a rag doll, completely satiated.
He presses a kiss to the side of my head and in a low, gravely voice says, “That was better than anything I could have planned.”
I sit up with him still nestled between my thighs and smile sleepily. He brings a hand to my waist and pulls me forward for another kiss, this time full of appreciation. Logan laces our hands together and nods toward the stairs.
We’ve not slept in the same room since the night of my brother’s call, treading carefully to keep our developing romance away from Maggie and Rainey’s eyes. Logan surprises me by walking into my bedroom and pulling me in behind. He continues leading me to my bathroom door, where he flips on the light before turning toward me.
“I have a Christmas wish I’m hoping you’ll make come true.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“I want to fall asleep next to you. On purpose, this time.” Logan pulls me into a bear hug before asking, “What do you think?”
I don’t need to think. The idea of waking up tomorrow with his messy head of hair on the pillow next to mine has been a fantasy since the first time I woke up next to him. “I can’t think of a better gift for me, either.” He hugs me even tighter.
“I was hoping you’d agree,” he whispers in my ear. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll be waiting in your bed.”
The moment I pull back my comforter and slide under the sheets next to Logan feels surreal. He pulls my back into his chest and tucks his knees under my thighs, transforming into my big spoon. I’m asleep within minutes as the marvel of our time on the couch fills my dreams.
My aggravation of not sleeping later vanishes under the weight of Logan’s body as the sun rises in the window on Christmas Eve. I roll to face him and take in the view, but find he’s lying awake on his side, propped up by an elbow with his head resting in his hand. He’s been watching me sleep. I find the realization somewhere between incredibly sweet and a little creepy. “What time is it?”
“Time for us to get the girls up and get started on breakfast. I want them to help us. Maybe they’ll stand a chance at knowing how to cook someday.”
I laugh, but his comment knocks the wind out of me, causing me to imagine Rainey as an adult. I don’t picture where she’ll live, how she’ll look, or what kind of work she’ll do. I imagine her grown up and look to see if she’s happy, because it’s my only wish for her.
Logan showers while I rouse the girls. Rainey’s sprawled out on her back, snoring, and I admire her, acknowledging how far both of us have come since her first day in my home. She’s learned to trust me, and while her sass is still in full force, there’s less pushback when I ask her to do something ornotdo something. I spent our first two months terrified of making a wrong move and screwing her up for life. But I’m making choices for my niece everyday now and most of them are worry-free thanks to the confidence Logan’s helped me build.
Her springy waves of blonde escaped her bun in the night. I wipe the smile from my face and shake Rainey, asking her to get dressed, and then allowing her to jump onto Maggie’s bed and wake up her best friend.
