Page 53 of Just Say Yes

I looked up at him. All I had to do was give in and he would push past my barriers. I could finally—finally—break past them.

His hand kneaded my ass while his brow furrowed. “Tell me. What’s going on inside that pretty little head of yours?”

I shook my head, embarrassment clawing at my throat. My fingers tangled in his hair as I tried to deflect. “It’s nothing. Don’t stop touching me.”

His hot breath fanned against my cheek as he set me on my feet. He lowered his gaze to look me in the eye. “I won’t stop if you don’t want me to, but you need to tell me how to make you feel okay with this. You set the pace.”

His eyes searched mine, not with impatience but with a quiet intensity that melted some of my fear. His words wrapped around me like a warm blanket, grounding me in a way I hadn’t expected.

My heart skittered. Without me having to express it, Logan understood something was a bit off.

“Kiss me,” I said, licking my lips and begging him to keep touching me.

“Yes, ma’am.” With a smirk, Logan lowered his mouth to mine. Softer and slower this time, he tasted and teased.

I moaned into him, pulling him deeper into the entryway and letting the door close behind us. The house was empty and dark. The warm wood beneath my bare feet grounded me in the moment, reminded me that I was standing in the foyer, making out with a man.

But not just any man. The man I’d lost sleep over. The man I’d fantasized about since we’d met. The man who could break my heart and shatter my trust all over again if I let my feelings get involved.

A man like him could get attention from any woman he wanted, and I had had sex onlyoncein my life.

But stopping now would be pure torture.

“Hey,” he said, moving his hands over my face. “Where’d you go?”

I swallowed hard. “In my head, I think.”

“Stay with me.” His voice was low and smooth. “Just keep talking. Tell me what you need.”

What I need? A stiff drink and your stiff cock oughta do it.

His dick was hard against my stomach, and a fresh sizzle of electricity throbbed between my legs.

“Come with me.” I turned, guiding him through the house toward my bedroom.

My aunt had gone away with friends on a fall foliage driving tour up to Traverse City, so I knew we’d be alone in the house.

Still, I sought the comfort of a closed door. A sanctuary where my mind couldn’t get the best of me. Logan quietly followed behind, never breaking contact. His fingers tangled with mine, and his other hand stayed firmly planted at my hip. His lips brushed the top of my hair.

When we reached my bedroom, I turned on a small lamp at the bedside and sat at the edge of my bed. He stood, his thighs between my legs as I stared up at him.

“Tell me,” he commanded.

I swallowed hard.How the hell was I supposed to articulate what I wanted when the hard edge to his voice scrambled my insides?

I leaned back, spreading my knees wider.

“Tell me,” he said again as his hand moved up my thigh toward my waist.

Gathering my courage, my voice was soft. “I want you ... whatever this is. But I need to go slow.”

My eyes bounced between his, unsure if going slow would disappoint him or make him realize I wasn’t worth the effort.

Instead, the corner of his mouth hooked up. “I like slow,” he drawled.

“You do?” I asked, a bit wary and unsure.

Logan nodded. “Oh yeah. Slow is good.”

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