Page 17 of Wrong Number, Right Grump
“Exactly.” She laces her fingers with mine, and if that doesn’t sink into my soul. “You’re a man, and you actually get it.”
“We’re not all bad.” I nod. “Everyone wants to be seen, heard, loved for who they are.”
A man would have to be blindnotto see her. All of her. She’s beautiful inside and out.
“Are you just saying that?” Her eyes meet mine, raw and exposed. No sparkle. No snark. “Or are you offering?”
“Yeah. But I don’t expect anything in return,” I say. “Whatever you need, whether it’s sitting here. Holding your hand. Lying next to you. No strings, hands to myself. You call it.”
Her brow lifts. “What if I want to make out until I forget my own name?”
“Like I said,” I let out a low, slow chuckle because it’s so her. “Anything you want. Letmetake care ofyoutonight.”
“You’re good at this. The whole low-key listening, accepting, protector thing,” she murmurs as she leans into me. “It’s kinda sexy.”
“Might be the first time a woman’s ever said so.” My pulse quickens, and a certain heaviness leaves my shoulders. “You make it... easier.”
She moves. Her whole body turns to face me as she climbs onto my lap and straddles my thighs. Her fingers curl into myshirt, tugging me closer, and I don’t pretend to resist, allowing her to take the lead. She kisses me without hesitation, no guardrail, no rules. And I kiss her back like I’ve been dying to since the park.
I slide one hand through her hair and anchor her to my body at her hip. She presses into me like she’s pouring every unspoken heartache into the kiss, and I drink it all in.
When she pulls back, her breath fans across my cheek, ragged, hot, and unsteady. Her eyes glisten, pupils dilated, intense. She pushes off my chest and takes my hand.
“Bedroom’s this way,” she rasps.
CHAPTER 10
***
Lola
Logan follows me down the hall, presence filling the space, the weight of his attention wrapping around me like a second skin. When we reach my bedroom, I pause, fingers curling around the edge of the doorway. My breaths come in shallow waves, my heart thudding somewhere between anticipation and ache.
He closes the space between us and plants his hands firmly on my hips, gathering me to him. His lips find mine in a kiss that’s grounded, unrushed. We back into the room, and the door closes, locking the world and everything beyond us outside.
When the back of my knees hit the mattress, we finally come up for air. His eyes don’t leave mine until I pull off my hoodie, exposing my bare breasts. I slide my pajama bottoms over my hips and kick them aside. His gaze sweeps over me like he’s memorizing me, almost reverent.
I take his hand and tug him down onto the bed with me.
He climbs over me, claiming me like a gift. There’s no rush in the way he moves—no frantic tugging, no careless grip. The reverence in his touch burns hotter than anything reckless. His fingertips trail up my arm to my shoulder. He kisses the curve where neck meets collarbone, a soft press of lips that leaves my whole body strung tight.
His hands explore slowly, mapping my body for the first time. I feel everything—every brush of his fingers, every drag of his knuckles against my bare skin. My body arches into it, hungry for more.
He kisses his way down my body, slow and thorough, until he’s kneeling at the edge of the bed. His hands drag slowly downthe backs of my thighs. He nudges them open, and I draw my knees up.
When his face settles between my thighs, his beard tickling my sensitive skin, I forget how to think. My breath catches as he dips his head to my core. His mouth is hot, firm, and devastating. His tongue slides between my swollen folds, slow and deep. He licks and sucks, stroking without rushing. My body tingles and tightens with each swirl and lap of his tongue.
Pleasure builds hard and fast. I arch off the mattress, hips rocking into him, chasing the pressure. My body’s on fire, every nerve coiled tight and humming with electric pulses. It’s too much and not enough all at once.
His grip tightens on my hips, holding me open, holding me to his hungry mouth. Every stroke sends shockwaves through my body, low and throbbing until I’m dizzy, burning with heat that curls in on itself, and I can’t breathe.
When I come, it isn’t polite or pretty. It’s shattering. I let go of all restraint and allow myself room to feel everything.To be me.
I’m noisy and loud, messy and overwhelmed, embracing every twinge, ripple, and pulse flowing through my body. My fingers slide into his hair and dig into his skull, anchoring me. I moan his name. My chest heaves, and my legs shake. But he doesn’t stop. He rides the wave with me, easing me through the high.
He kisses the inside of my thigh as I come down. His eyes lock on mine as he crawls over my body. My skin feels too hot, too sensitive, too exposed. But I don’t cover up. I let him see me. All of me.
His body presses against mine—solid and fiery hot. The hard weight of him between my thighs lights up every part of me again. My heart hammers. And I’ve never felt more aware of my body. Of his. Of a connection that’s purelyus.
