Page 109 of Defensive Desire

He leans down, his forehead pressing against mine.

"You're everything," he says, his voice rough. "Everything I never knew I needed."

He shifts the angle of his hips, fucking me harder until he gets the spot just right. I moan, move my hips with his, clinging to him as my nails dig into the solid muscles of his back.

"Let go, baby," he urges, his rhythm never faltering. "I've got you. Always got you."

He follows me over the edge, his body tensing above mine, my name a ragged groan torn from somewhere deep in his chest.

For a long moment, we stay locked together. Logan presses soft kisses to my face, all over it. My forehead, my eyelids, the corner of my mouth, before carefully rolling to the side, tucking me against him.

I lay my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slowly return to normal.

In this moment, wrapped in his arms with the morning sun warming our tangled limbs, I can almost pretend that everythingwill be okay. That nothing will change. That we can stay in this perfect bubble forever.

Then… his phone buzzes on the nightstand.

The sound shatters the quiet, and I feel Logan tense beneath me before he reaches for it.

"It's Big Mike," he says, scanning the message. His voice is carefully neutral, but I can feel the tension radiating through him. "Meeting's been moved up. He wants me at the arena now."

My heart sinks. I try to find words, but they catch in my throat.

Logan sets the phone down and turns back to me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Hey. It's going to be fine, okay?"

I nod, not trusting my voice.

He kisses me again before sliding out of bed. I watch him move around my small apartment, gathering his clothes, tugging his jeans on, pulling his t-shirt over his head.

I should say something. Beg him not to leave. Make him promise that no matter what happens, we'll figure it out.

Hell, even just ask him to call me the second the meeting's over.

But I can't seem to speak past the lump in my throat.

Logan comes back to the bed, fully dressed now, and leans down for one last kiss. "Have a good day, gorgeous. I'll be back before you miss me."

I manage a smile that feels brittle. "Too late."

His eyes soften, and for a second, I think he might say something else. Something important. But then he straightens, grabs his keys, and heads for the door.

"Logan," I call just as his hand touches the knob.

He turns back, eyebrows raised in question.

Fight for us. Fight to stay. Please don't leave me.

The words stick in my throat, because who am I to ask him to put me above his career? Above the thing he's worked for his entire life? Would he ask me to give away my bookshop?

No way.

So instead, I swallow hard and say, "Good luck."

He nods, eyes serious. "I'll call you."

And then he's gone.

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