Page 14 of Alone With You
Logan unlocked his head from the V of her thighs and swept out behind her, dragging his head against her lady parts. She swayed as he grasped her arms from behind, pulling her hard against his chest.
“Steady, Red.”
“I’m good.” She shoved away. He let her go as if he hadn’t just lit her up like a roman candle.
“So, city girl, if you liked that concrete madhouse so much, what are you doing here in the woods of Washington picking flowers?”
“So many questions, Macallister.” She turned away and strode to her backpack to unzip another section for the blossom samples.
“Don’t run away.” He followed right behind, a lumbering hunk of warm and tempting man. “I’m curious as to how you became you.”
“My grandmother,” she stuttered, unsettled into the truth. “She had this great big plot of wild land in upstate New York.”
“You lived with her?”
“Only for a few months of summer. She was an amateur herbalist. Taught me everything.”
Those were the best summers of her life. Not a single tutoring session, piano lesson, or soccer practice for a full two and a half months. Long days bright and full of discovery as she plucked simples for the house. Rosemary, thyme, sage, wild daffodils, vervain, St. John’s Wort, fragrant and mysterious and full of magic. She and Granny would spend hours wandering over the property, watching a seed go from sprig to flower to berry. Quiet slow hours that stretched on forever, and that was the greatest gift Granny had given her. The feeling that she, tall skinny big-brained Jenny, had been important enough in someone’s life to merit the deep-focused expenditure of a commodity as precious as time.
He said, suddenly close. “What are you thinking of right now, Jenny?”
Her breath caught. “Nothing—nothing.”
“Your whole face changed. I noticed it before, when I took the picture of you. You were thinking about something you’d lost. Something you still wanted.”
“Logan.”
She meant to speak his name as a warning, but her voice caught. Not a day had gone by that she hadn’t missed her grandmother. Now he stood only inches in front of her, perceiving more than he should, close enough for her to smell the scent of soap on his skin. Should she tell him? Why was he asking so many questions? Why would he care? She lifted her face and found herself caught in his gaze, full of curiosity and something more needy, far more intense. The light around Logan spun, maybe nothing more than the wind in the trees, changing the light. But, real or not, it didn’t stop a pressure from building low in her belly, a coiling tightness she recognized all too well.
“Hell, Jenny.” Logan slipped his fingers into her hair. “You keep looking at me like that. We both know this is going to happen, sooner or later.”
He lowered his mouth to her lips.
CHAPTER FOUR
Logan’s mouth touched hers like a jolt of lightning. The electricity shot through to her toes. Jenny swayed back out of reflex but his lips clung. Her heart kicked up its pace, trilled in an odd rhythm as he rumbled a deep-throated sound and shifted his stance so that the heat of his big body poured over hers, as he dove in for another taste.
Had she said his name aloud? She thought she’d said something. She could barely think two words in sequence. Her breathing had dropped out of sync, she sipped air between kisses. He pulled back a fraction to rub his forehead against hers as he mumbled something unintelligible before he kissed her again. The sun braised her shoulders. The gurgle of the river sang in her ears. The wind teased tendrils as her eyelids became too heavy to stay open. The heavy scent honeysuckle cast a sweet fog over her mind. Her thoughts were the wind-blown seeds of a dandelion head, scattering far and wide, as Logan’s fingers dug into her scalp, as he urged her lips apart and teased her mouth with his tongue.
What was happening? She was standing—her feet flat on the soft bedding of pine needles—but she may as well be floating a few feet of the ground. His hair slipped soft between her fingers, the bristle of his jaw scraping the butt of her hand. She smelled the roasted coffee on his breath, felt the smooth slip of his teeth with her tongue. An ache intensified between her thighs and her knees threatened to weaken, to pull her down, and him upon her—
“Stop.”
He stilled, a swift hardening of muscle inches from her face. He pinned her in place with those pale green eyes. She took two stumbling steps away back, pressing the back of her arm against her mouth to stop the insistent throbbing.
Logan stood, his chest rising and falling, breathing hard.
She held up a hand though he hadn’t come an inch closer. “Let me catch my breath.”
“I like you breathless.”
“Logan.”
“Damn it, Jenny. Your eyes screamed yes.”
Her reflexive denial didn’t make it past her throat. She never was a good liar. Shehadwanted him to kiss her. Shestillwanted him.
She dropped her arm from her mouth and harnessed frustration instead. “Do you usually go around kissing the socks off of unsuspecting women?”
