Page 37 of Logan
Now that I have her, I’m not spending another night without her.
We step into the cool air, and the club’s noise dulls behind us. The rumble of bikes in the lot mixes with the faint scent of exhaust and leather. I walk her toward mine, not letting go of her hand. The whole time, I’m hyperaware of her and how her fingers feel threaded through mine, how her body fits at my side like it belongs there.
She swings a leg over the back of the bike, settling in against me. This time, she doesn’t just hold on for balance. Her arms slide around my waist, her cheek pressing against my back. I feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing even through my cut.
The engine roars to life beneath us, the vibrations running up my arms. I take us out of the lot, the cool wind cutting against my face. Her grip tightens as we merge onto the road, and I swear I can feel her heart pounding against my spine.
Streetlights streak past in flashes of gold. Every time we hit a curve, she leans with me, like we’re moving as one. There’s something about having her back there that makes the world shrink down to nothing but the road ahead and the woman holding on to me.
Halfway home, I reach down, covering her hand with mine for just a second before I need it back on the throttle. It’s a small thing, but it’s the kind of touch that says more than words more than “you’re mine” or “I’m not letting go.” It says she’s safe. That I’ve got her.
By the time we pull into my driveway, the tension I’ve been carrying all day has eased into something calmer but no less fierce. I cut the engine, and the sudden quiet makes her voice feel louder when she leans in and whispers, “This feels right.”
I don’t answer right away. I just sit there for a beat, taking it in, committing this moment to memory. Then I turn to her, meeting her eyes over my shoulder. “Yeah, it does.”
We head inside together, and for the first time in a long damn while, I’m not thinking about the club, the Knights, or anything else waiting for me tomorrow. I’m just thinking about her and how I’m not letting another night pass without her in my bed.
Chapter Seventeen
Makenzie
Don't tame her, try to chain her
The second you do you'll break her
Don't dull that shine that caught your eye
'Cause you're afraid somebody will take her
She ain't a dial you just turn on and off
‘Leave Her Wild’ - Tyler Rich
It’s been three days since Logan claimed me.
Three days of learning what it means to be with him in this new way. He has changed so much in that time. He’s attentive in a way that makes my chest feel full and he’s considerate in ways I didn’t think he had in him… not that he isn’t still stubborn, frustrating, and occasionally infuriating enough to make me want to throw something at him.
I’ve been off work, so whenever he didn’t have club business, we’ve been together. Mornings with coffee in his kitchen. Afternoons with him stretched out on the couch while I read or watched whatever mindless show I could find, his hand idly tracing circles on my thigh. Nights falling asleep with hisbody heat at my back and his arm heavy across my waist. It’s felt good. Better than good.
Now, standing in front of the mirror getting ready for work, I smooth my hair into place and look at my reflection. The thought of going back to Ambrosia was almost enough to start a war between us.
It had started with his voice raised, sharp enough to cut.
“There is no way in hell you are still working at Ambrosia!” Logan’s tone was pure authority, his jaw tight, eyes locked on mine like he could will me into obeying.
I crossed my arms, holding my ground. “I sure am, at least until I find something else. You can’t control me, Logan. That’s not a relationship, at least not one that I’ll be in.” My mouth curved in a small smile, knowing my next words would needle him. “Plus, you don’t have control over Ambrosia… remember?”
His eyes narrowed, a dark, warning look. “This is not a fucking joke, Mac.”
“I know it isn’t, Logan.” I stepped closer, refusing to back down. “This is me telling you I have work tomorrow and asking if you’ll pick me up after, bring me back here, and fuck me until I pass out.”
I saw it happen, his pupils dilating, his chest rising a fraction deeper. The air between us changed in a heartbeat.
“The second part of it I have no objection to,” he muttered, and then his mouth was on mine. That kiss nearly wrecked my resolve. The way he could tilt my chin, press in with just enough pressure to have my knees weakening, was almost enough to make me forget the whole point of the argument.
Almost.
I forced myself to pull my head back, drawing in air like I’d been underwater too long. No, if I gave in now I’d never stand my ground again.
