Page 50 of Defensive Desire

“Of course, Mrs. Henderson,” I say, trying not to sound as breathless as I feel.

Logan shoots me a look, one that promises this moment isn’t over.

Chapter Twelve

Logan

Goddammit.

I rub a hand over my jaw, trying to keep my shit together as I look at the clock.

The problem is, I’m done with waiting. I’ve been patient. I’ve beengood.

But now?

Now I want. No… Ineedher.

Mrs. Henderson finally pays, rambling something about book club nights and tea recommendations. She's been here for almost an hour, but still, Emma just nods politely and listens to every rambling word.

But I see the way her fingers keep twitching, like she’s just as restless as I am.

The second the old woman steps out, the doorbell tinkling in her wake, I’m across the room. I don’t even think about it. I just move like my skates are still locked around my ankles and the floor is slickened ice.

Emma’s standing by the register, looking a little dazed. I glance at the darkening sky outside the café and flick the sign to “Closed” and lock the door.

She watches me, wide-eyed, lips parted like she’s about to say something.

I don’t give her the chance. The second I swarm back over to surround her body, my hands find her waist, dragging her hard against me.

“Logan—”

I don’t let her finish.

I crush my mouth against hers, and she melts instantly. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, pulling me closer.

Jesus Christ, I’ve never needed someone like this.

I press her against the counter, my hands skimming down to her hips, pulling her flush against me so she can feel just how hard I am for her.

She gasps into my mouth, and I take advantage, slipping my tongue inside, tasting her like I’ve been dying to all damn day.

Her fingers are in my hair, tugging, and that little desperate sound she makes when I bite her lower lip just about undoes me. I can’t help it. I growl, low and rough, and lift her onto the counter, wedging myself between her thighs as she moans into my mouth, the sound tasting so fucking sweet.

She shivers, wrapping her legs around my waist, dragging me even closer. I trail my mouth down her jaw, sucking on that spot just under her ear that makes her squirm.

“Been thinking about this all fucking day,” I murmur, nibbling and sucking down her neck.

Emma’s hands are everywhere. She starts at my chest, my shoulders, sliding under my shirt to stroke over my skin.

“Me too,” she whispers, breath hitching when I nip at her throat.

My control’s hanging by a thread. I want to take my time, but the way she’s grinding against me, soft little noises escaping her mouth, has me about to lose it.

I slide a hand up her side, fingers skimming just under her shirt. Her skin’s so warm, and when I drag my thumb over the curve of her waist, she shudders.

“Logan...”

I force myself to pull back just enough to look at her, my thumb brushing over her lips. “Tell me you want this.”

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