Page 72 of Never Sleep with the Enemy

At this moment, I believe it. I believe it when Logan Shock tells me I’m beautiful. That Jonah was a fool for letting me slip away. That everything I’ve always desired is right in front of my eyes, and all I have to do is...

I kiss him, and he kisses me back. His hand rises to my face, fingers sinking into the hair at the base of my neck. I turn into it, into him, clinging to the warmth of his touch.

“I, uh...” I swallow, his lips tempting me again. “Do you need to go, or...?”

“You trying to get rid of me?”

“No,” I say, quivering as he kisses my cheek, my neck. “No. I’m not. I’m?—”

“Do you want me to leave?” Logan asks, raising his head to look me in the eye again.

“No,” I whisper. He kisses me on the lips once, twice. “Do you want to stay?”

Logan’s eyes flair with need. “What do you think?”

His lips envelop mine again, crashing through another wall of resistance in me. I push closer to him, needing him, feeling him in ways I never touched a man before.

When his arms wrap around me and he pulls me onto his lap, I don’t fight it. When I feel his kiss fall to my neck, his tongue dancing along the length of my collarbone, I tilt back, letting him have me until?—

My elbows hit the piano keys, cutting the silence with a few loud, startling notes. I flinch on his lap and Logan chuckles, his breath warm against my chest.

“Sorry, Freddie,” I say, giving Logan a shrug. “He’s not used to sharing me with other guys.”

“I didn’t realize I’d have such stiff competition,” Logan says, not at all bothered as he touches the keys on either side of me, giving them a quick tickle.

I chuckle. “He’s just jealous,” I say, kissing him again. “I’m sure if you’re very nice to me, he’ll loosen up.”

Logan dips his head, his lips grazing the neckline of my dress. “How nice we talking here?” he asks, his eyes flicking deviously.

I don’t reply, too distracted by the feel of his hands slowly crawling up my arms. He reaches my shoulders and pauses, studying my reaction as he slips his fingers under the straps.

My stomach quivers with nerves, that damn fear of the unknown creeping back up, this time bringing memories along with it.

Memories of me and Jonah. It was after my eighteenth birthday. My first days of true freedom knowing that my parents couldn’t drag me back to hell kicking and screaming. Band practice was long over, but Jonah and I were still in his family’s guest house.

“We shouldn’t,”he said, looking down, looking guilty and ashamed over what we’d done.

I see none of that in Logan’s eyes. Now, I see desire. And lust. Not a hint of shame or regret.

Just the need for more.

I kiss him softly, and he pulls the straps down.

Logan kisses the newly exposed skin, inch by little inch. My heart pounds harder with each gentle peck, the new thrill of kiss-touched skin coursing through my veins.

I tilt back with closed eyes, my body pushing against the piano again, but Logan doesn’t let the flood of sound stop him this time. He pulls my dress further down, his tongue caressing the top of my breasts. I shudder as he drags a thumb over my nipple through the fabric; the nub growing harder against his touch. Electricity fires through my core, leaving pulses of gentle pleasure in its wake.

“Katrina,” Logan whispers. “Stop me if I go too far.”

I make a small, noncommittal noise, making him look up into my eyes, his lips curling with amusement.

“What was that?” he asks.

“I, ba... uh...” I laugh, my tongue too loose to form words. “No.”

“No?” he repeats, backing off.

“No!” I touch his hand before it leaves my skin. “I mean,yes.Don’t stop. I... I’m good. Keep...” I smile. “You can keep going.”

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