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“I’m sorry you dealt with that,” I tell him. “I… I guess I was lucky, my dad was mostly a good man.”
“He is a good man. He’s not dead, Vera,” Logan is adamant as he speaks. “I’m sorry for stealing you, kidnapping you.” He lifts his gaze to mine, sincerity shines in his eyes, and I nod.
“I know you are.” The heat of his hands warms me, both inside and out. Affection isn’t something I’m used to, and I have a feeling that Logan isn’t someone who offers it to just anyone. At least, he doesn’t look like a man who can be gentle.
“What are you thinking?” he asks as if he’s trying to read my mind.
I shake my head, dropping my gaze to our connection, and I hope I come across unaffected by my mind playing dirty scenarios on a loop. “Nothing,” I tell him, but I can feel my cheeks heating from the lie.
“It has nothing to do with what happened earlier?” he questions, causing me to look up at him again. “Tell me, Vera. I was so afraid I hurt you.”
“You didn’t. I would’ve told you if you did.” He doesn’t seem convinced, so I pull away from him, slipping off the seat to round the counter until I’m beside him. I lean in and allow my lips to brush against his cheek. The stubble tickling me as I press a kiss on him.
“Fuck,” he mumbles out the curse word. “You do things to me, Beauty,” he tells me.
“What things?” I want to coax all his secrets from him. I want to learn who the man beneath this cold exterior is. “Tell me the things I do to you, Logan because I’m sure that they’re the same things you do to me.”
Silence hangs between us, like a heavy storm cloud. There are sordid secrets that I know he’s hiding. If I had to be honest, I am hiding my own. My fantasies may run differently than most women’s, but with Logan, I am sure I can finally realize them and not feel ashamed.
“Nobody has ever understood my needs,” he finally whispers, breaking through my thoughts. “I was convinced that I would be alone forever, and I was okay with that. I had come to terms with it.”
My heart aches in my chest at his admission. I felt the same for a long time. I told myself that I could never have a man in my life who could make me feel the way I needed sexually. My craving for force, for the helpless feeling, isn’t something that everyone would be willing to attempt or to even discuss.
“I know what you mean,” I tell him. “I was on that website because I needed an outlet.”
Logan snaps his gaze to mine, his hands find purchase on my hips, and he pulls me between his thick, muscled thighs. We don’t speak, we just stay there, silent in the darkness.
“You make the crazy inside me less intense,” he tells me. “Since the first moment I stood in that meadow with you, I felt it. This strange calm took over me, and I couldn’t let it go.”
I nod slowly before placing my hands on his shoulders. “Then don’t send me away, Logan. Don’t push me away,” I tell him. “I’m not running. I’m not afraid of you.”
“You should be.”
“Well then call my stupid because I’m not,” I retort hotly, and for a moment, I think I’ve upset him, but then he laughs. The sound so foreign, yet it speaks directly to my heart.
“Let’s go to bed,” he finally says before scooping me up and taking me to the bedroom door that I noticed was shut earlier. He allows me to reach for the door handle and twist it.
When he steps inside, I notice how manly the room is. With black curtains and bedding, a dark brown throw rug. There aren’t any feminine touches to the space, not like my room has.
“Are you okay to stay here with me?” he questions as he sets me on my feet. “You don’t have—”
“Yes,” I interrupt him. “I want to.” And I know I’m making the right choice.
20
Logan
It’s been a couple of days. She’s steered clear of me, except for food and coffee. Vera has sat on the couch a few times reading, and I could feel her eyes on me. I decide today I’m going to attempt a normal conversation with her.
When I hear feet padding down the steps in the mid-morning, I know Vera is awake. It doesn’t take her long to reach me where I’m perched at the kitchen counter.
“Good morning,” she says before she plants a kiss on my cheek before making her way to the cabinet to grab a mug.
Most of the cupboards don’t have doors, so it’s easy to find anything in the kitchen. I take note that she’s wearing one of my T-shirts, with no pants. Her long, lithe legs look good enough to spread and devour, but I turn my attention on my work. I can’t do this, not just yet. I need to focus.
