Page 105 of Defensive Desire

I cut her off with my mouth, pressing her back against the door, my hands fisting in that soft green sweater that made me crazy all day. She tastes like champagne and victory, and I'm addicted to both.

"You were incredible today," I murmur against her lips, trailing kisses down her neck. "Watching you glow, seeing you own that space... Christ, Emma. I've never been more in love with anything before."

Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer. "Logan! Oh wow!"

I press Emma harder against the door, my hands everywhere at once. Her skin, her hair, the curve of her hip… I can't get enough.

Every touch feels like I'm memorizing her, like I'm trying to burn the feel of her into my skin once and for all.

"Logan, what's gotten into you?" she gasps, but she's not complaining. Her fingers curl into my shirt, pulling me closer.

"You," I growl against her neck. "You've gotten into me."

All the frustration, all the fear about Seattle, about leaving her. I channel it into this moment. Into us.

I lift her, pinning her against the wall, and she wraps her legs around my waist. The little sound she makes drives me wild and a low growl sounds more animal than human when it leaves the back of my throat.

"Logan. We shouldn't—not here," she whispers, but her body tells a different story.

"Tell me to stop then." I drag my teeth along her collarbone, feeling her shiver. "Tell me, Emma. And I will."

Her answer is to pull my face back to hers, kissing me with a hunger that matches my own. My hands slide under her sweater, finding warm skin, and she moans into my mouth.

"You were incredible today," I murmur between kisses. "Watching you, seeing how everyone responded to you... God, Emma."

I'm spiraling, losing myself in her, and it feels like the only thing that makes sense right now. The trade talks, the uncertainty… None of it matters when I'm touching her. When she's looking at me like I'm everything she's ever wanted.

I kiss her harder, deeper, trying to show her what I can't say.

That I'm terrified of losing this. That I'm terrified of losing her.

"Logan," she breathes my name, her fingers tangling in my hair. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Not when I'm with you." I shake my head, not wanting to ruin this moment with words. "You're going to get that café, baby."

"We are," she corrects breathlessly. "We'regoing to get it."

The statement lands like a puck to the fucking forehead.

Because there might not be a 'we' after tomorrow. There might just be her, running her dream café, expanding her business while I'm a thousand miles away, trying to rebuild my life in some new city.

I can't think about that. Not now.

Not when she's warm against me, her hands already working the buttons of my shirt, her soft moans making my cock throb with desperate, primal need.

"Fuck, baby," I growl, lifting her onto a stack of equipment boxes. "I need to taste you, gorgeous."

I drop to my knees, pushing her skirt up her thighs, revealing that scrap of lace she wears that drives me insane. She hooks her legs over my shoulders as I drag my tongue along the edge of her panties, tasting her through the thin fabric.

"Fuck, Logan," she gasps, her head falling back against the wall. "Someone could come in."

"Let them," I mutter, pulling her panties aside and diving in with my tongue.

She's already wet for me, her clit swollen and sensitive under my mouth. I feast on her like a man starved, like this might be the last time I get to taste her sweetness.

The thought makes me desperate, more aggressive. I slide two fingers inside her, curling them just right while I suck hard on her clit. She cries out, her thighs trembling around my head, her fingers tugging painfully at my hair.

"Oh, Logan!"

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