In the chaos, their mouths come apart, and now Logan is staringdown at her with those fire eyes again. She has her pinned to the van, trapped, breathing angrily. And then Logan kisses her again.
Rosemary fucking knew it.
It’s nothing like that innocent, exploratory kiss when they were fourteen. Rosemary still has handfuls of Logan’s wet clothes, and she pulls her against her own body, pulling them both back harder against the van. Logan grabs Rosemary’s hips and pushes herself away, teasing her. Rosemary begs for more with her tongue against Logan’s closed lips. In punishment, Logan bites Rosemary’s bottom lip before she relents, opens, and it feels like there is nothing between them at all when Logan’s tongue touches hers.
It’s how she always imagined kissing adult Logan would be. (And she had imagined it, hadn’t she? So many times.) There’s nowhere for Logan to hide her feelings in the nonexistent space between their bodies. It’s a kiss like arguing. Like passion and stubbornness.
A kiss like mutual surrender.
LOGAN
Rosemary fucking kissed her.
Hot diggity dog, indeed.
Joe almost died today, but as long as she keeps kissing Rosemary against the Gay Mobile, she doesn’t have to think about that. Shecan’tthink about it. BecauseRosemaryis kissing her. With tongue. With her whole body.
Logan isn’t letting go. For the first time in her life, she doesn’t need an excuse to touch her childhood crush. She just gets to do it, and she takes full advantage. She starts with her thick, wet braid, then traces the anxious tendon down the column of her throat. Collarbones and ribs and the surprising softness of her hips. Down the backs of her thighs, up the hem of her dress.
They’re in a hospital parking lot, but she’s dry humped in worse places.
She knows this is going to end in hurt, but for the moment, she doesn’t care. Because Rosemary kisses like she does everything, with precision and perfection and so much care. With just enough restraint to make Logan absolutely feral over nothing more than a kiss.
This. This isn’tjusta kiss.
She thought Rosemary would kiss like they’re in a Jane Austen novel, but she kisses her like they’re in a Jane Austenmovie adaptation.
A demon from hell begins to roar at them, and Logan and Rosemary come apart in a scramble of squelching limbs and confusion and regret. It’s Odie. He’s thrashing against the back window of the van, barking for his freedom. Poor dog. Logan had no choice but to leave the car running and the AC on when she went inside the hospital for news, but Odie still looks traumatized.
Rosemarylooks traumatized, too. She still has rain clinging to her pale lashes and her bottom lip is plump, already swollen. Logan feels a surge of triumph. She did that. She made Rosemary Hale lose control.
Rosemary smooths down the hem of her soaking dress. “Well, I think I proved my point.”
“What point was that?”
“That you do feel something for me, whether you’re willing to admit it or not.”
Logan laughs in the rain. “Oh, I definitely feelsomethingfor you.”
Rosemary puckers that swollen mouth into her cat’s-asshole face, and Logan just wants to kiss her again. They’re still standing there, still staring at each other. Odie barks again.
“We… we should go check on Joe.” Rosemary attempts to compose herself, but the evidence of the kiss is still written all over her blush.
“We definitely should,” Logan agrees.
The anxious tendon in Rosemary’s neck sticks out, and Logan hopes this isn’t her last chance to touch that spot.
“Joe,” Rosemary repeats.
“Joe,” Logan says. She will find a way to touch that tendon again.
“Gas, huh?” Logan smirks as she flops onto Joe’s hospital bed beside him.
“We will never discuss this again,” he says grimly. Then he cranes his head to eye Logan beside him before he stares at Rosemary hovering on his other side.
“Why are you both wet and guilty-looking?”
Chapter Nineteen