Page 22 of Strictly Yours

I can barely breathe. I had no idea. When I think of Logan Strickland, I think of wealth and luxury, not of a scared littleboy living in the backseat of a car. I didn’t know this side of him existed, but I want to hear more. I want to know every side of him.

“I’ve never told anyone that.” When he looks up at me, something breaks open in my chest.

It’s not just that he’s been through hell. It’s that he trusts me enough to show it. To let me see the scared little boy behind the man. The wound behind the armor.

I reach across the table and place my hand over his. He doesn't move for a second, but then he turns his hand palm up and curls his fingers around mine.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“That’s why I take work so seriously,” he says. “Why I work so hard. I don’t want that to happen again and I definitely don’t want to do that to anyone else.”

“You’re a good man, Logan,” I say, just because I think he needs to hear it. I don’t think he hears it often enough.

I shiver when those dark brown eyes meet mine.

There’s something about the way he’s watching me—the hunger and possession in his eyes… It makes me think, maybe… Maybe this could work for real.

Maybe we do belong together. Maybe opposites don’t just attract, but they can meld into one.

“You’re full of surprises,” I say.

“I thought I was boring,” he says with a teasing grin.

“You are anything but boring, Mr. Strickland.” He was vulnerable with me and now it’s my turn to be vulnerable with him. “You just might be the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He smiles. It’s a dangerous smile. It’s a drop everything and move to New York kind of smile. He’s relaxed in a way he wasn’t yesterday. Still sharp, still commanding—but there’s somethingunguarded about him now. Like he’s letting me see the man underneath the title.

And I like what I see.

“Tell me something intimate,” he says as he rubs gentle circles on my wrist with his fingertip, giving me goosebumps. “Something no one else knows about you.”

I take a deep breath, wondering if I want to gothere.

I realize I do. I want to goeverywherewith him.

I lean in close and keep my voice low. “I’m a virgin.”

His jaw tightens and his dark eyes fill with a reverence that makes my toes curl as he watches me.

It just never felt right. I never felt like I could trust someone to be that intimate and vulnerable with.

I used to think there was something wrong with me for being so picky. For waiting. For wanting more.

But now I know—I was just waiting forhim.

My type isn’t some party boy with abs or a grungy skater with a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

My type isthis.

A grumpy, obsessive, boss man with a work addiction and a heart that only opens for me.

I love that I can make him smile even when he doesn’t want to. And making him laugh? That feels like winning the lottery every single time. I wish I could bottle up that deep booming sound and play it whenever I need a boost of energy.

I feel like we were made for one another. Like we justfit.

“What do you think about that?” I ask him shyly, hoping he doesn’t laugh in my face.

He rubs his sexy stubble-covered jaw and leans in close. “I think you won’t be able to say that for a very long.”

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