Bad Boys of Red Hook [2] You're the One (17 page)

He swallowed hard and prayed for strength and control. He was going to need both. He looked into her dark blue eyes—almost black with arousal. “Sugar, I’m a ladies-first kind of guy. But right now, the only way I have a prayer of making that happen is if you keep your hands to yourself for a while.”

She licked her lips and his dick jumped in his jeans. God, what a mouth she had. “And if I don’t?”

Her deep voice nearly did him in. He was screwed. “If you don’t, I’ll have to resort to desperate measures.” He’d already recited the periodic table in his mind, and then added the atomic weights for good measure—it wasn’t helping. “I’m good at tying knots.”

Skye had never considered bondage a turn-on until that moment. She certainly wouldn’t mind tying Logan up. Just the thought of it shot a surge of heat into her already overheated system.

She’d always known that there were some men, somewhere, who took foreplay seriously—she’d just never slept with any of them. Logan seemed to take it to the extreme—something she might appreciate later, but right now, not so much—especially if she wasn’t allowed to join in on the fun.

He nibbled his way down the column of her neck and she slid her foot up his jean-clad leg, his razor stubble igniting her already oversensitive skin.

She might not be allowed to use her hands, but he’d never said she couldn’t use the rest of her body. She held back a moan, tossed her leg over his hip, and groaned when she came into contact with his fly. “Oh God, yes.”

His hands were everywhere, big, strong, long-fingered, and rough, as if he worked outside, but so gentle. They skidded over her body like a virtuoso’s over ivory, hitting just the right notes to make the music come alive.

The tug on her breast drew the tension to her core as his hand squeezed her ass, then held her hip, pressing her back against the mattress. He overwhelmed her, controlled her, and felt almost too good. So big and broad, so freakin’ beautiful. His skin was dark compared with hers. He was whipcord lean, muscular, and cut. He looked,
smelled, and tasted like something out of a dream—but he was real and he was with her.

His knee slid between her legs, his tongue invaded her navel, and a hand brushed the inside of her thigh.

She sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes shut—embarrassment mixing with intense pleasure as he kissed a path over her belly. Sparks of need shot through her. She never thought having Logan kiss her belly would be a turn-on. And she definitely had a belly. It had never bothered her before, but then she hadn’t had anyone see her naked in…well, a long, long, long time.

She reached for him, but he’d already wedged himself between her thighs, which would not have been a problem if he still hadn’t had his pants on.

Strong hands spread her legs, making room for his broad shoulders, gripping her hips, lifting, and then he sent her a sexy smile. “Dessert.”

Her sputtered protest trailed off to a guttural moan. She’d known he had a talented tongue, but she had no idea he could do that with it. Her back arched, her toes curled, and she reached for his head, not sure whether it was to pull him away or hold him there forever. Pleasure so intense it skirted the edge of pain assaulted her, heat seared her, gathered, and then exploded.

He slipped a finger inside her, filling her, increasing the pressure, the pleasure, the intensity. She felt like a windup toy, wound past the breaking point. She couldn’t think, she was incapable of words, of movement, of anything. As if his fingers, lips, and tongue weren’t enough, the addition of his teeth sent her flying. It seemed to go on and on; she’d never survive. Her heart felt as if it were galloping right out of her chest; her throat was raw—the scream she’d heard must have been her own. Still, he didn’t let up.
One orgasm built on another and all the while her body trembled, her muscles convulsed—her entire world seemed to collapse on itself and then splinter into a thousand shining pieces.

When she opened her eyes, all she saw was Logan’s smiling face. If she could speak, she’d say something, but then he looked pretty pleased with himself—almost relieved, which was amazing, since all the pleasure had been hers. “I need a minute—or an hour. I’m not sure.”

He grinned again, and she melted a little more and told herself that no guy was perfect—not even him. He had to have a fault.

He kissed her cheeks, her lips, and then her shoulder before pulling her into his arms. “I just want to hold you.”

Her head rested on his chest and his heart beat a mad tattoo beneath her ear. She slid her leg over his, and felt nothing but Logan. She raised her head. “You lost your pants. When did that happen?”

He ran his hand down her back. “They were getting a little constricting.”

She snuck a peek and swallowed hard. “I can imagine.” Okay, that was a lie—she really couldn’t imagine having something the size of that tucked into a pair of jeans. Hell, she couldn’t imagine having something the size of that tucked into her. She stared. She couldn’t help it. The more she stared, the bigger it seemed. Still, she’d come this far.

She walked her fingers over his abs, each muscle tensed beneath her fingertips. His heart rate spiked under her ear and she drew closer to get a better look. She wrapped her fingers around its girth. Hot, hard, and oh so smooth. It jumped in her grip.

She watched his face. Logan sucked a breath through clenched teeth. He looked as if he was in pain, but he didn’t move to stop her.

A drop of liquid glistened on the sensitive head, so she licked it off and raised her gaze to his. “Tasty.”

“Skye—” It sounded like half a plea, half a groan. She tightened her grip on his erection and slid her hand up to the top and back down while she traced the ridge with her tongue before opening her mouth and sucking on the head. Every one of his muscles within her line of vision delineated.

She moved between his legs, and smiled, nuzzling his dick. He smelled heavenly and tasted even better. She licked the length of him following the throbbing vein from base to tip.

“Stop.”

Logan yanked the brown paper bag open. Chocolate and condoms fell out. She held back a laugh as he ripped open a condom and caught her watching. He looked almost embarrassed. “I didn’t know which you’d be in the mood for.”

She brushed his hand away before taking the head of his dick into her open mouth. She took as much as she could—in that position at least. His erection hit the back of her throat and the sound of his groan spurred her on. She added some suction and worked her hand in time with her mouth.

He quivered beneath her; his breath sounded as if it were being torn from his chest.

She moaned, loving the taste, the feel of him, the power she held, and then big hands lifted her off.

“Damn, Skye.” He rolled on a condom and then pulled her onto his chest and kissed her, holding her
close, so gentle but strong. His tongue tangled with hers and his hands grasped her hips, holding her still in his embrace.

When she reached between them and held him, he pressed against her opening—hot, hard, insistent. She took him in, inch by slow inch.

Logan watched Skye’s eyes as she joined her body to his.

Her mouth formed an O and he clenched his teeth. She didn’t blink, didn’t break the connection they’d formed.

He watched with wonder, feeling everything. She was hot, wet, and, oh man, so tight. And the way she looked at him, so open, so beautiful, so much more than he’d ever imagined. His hands shook as he held her up. Keeping his hips on the mattress was a lesson in control. She was so small, lovely, delicate—he was scared to death he’d hurt her.

She eased onto him, her body opening to him, relaxing, drawing him in until she was fully seated. “God.” She leaned in, chest to chest, and kissed him, never blinking, never breaking the connection as she rocked against him. “I was worried we wouldn’t fit.” She walked her hands up his chest and groaned when he slid out a little and then filled her again.

He sat, pulling her into his arms. “We fit just fine. Better than fine. You’re perfect.”

The look of shock on her face was one he’d never forget, but then she couldn’t have been any more shocked than he was.

He’d had sex—a lot of it. He knew lust—they had plenty of that—he’d known desire, and he’d known the heat that came with compatibility, but he’d never known anything like this. He’d never had this need, this intense
passion, this feeling of perfection. He’d never felt as connected to a lover as he felt at this moment. So good, so right, so much—it scared him.

He let Skye set the pace and let her experiment, using his shoulders for leverage, riding him right to the edge. She was stunningly open, real, totally immersed, focused, and completely uninhibited. He watched the way her eyes darkened, the radiant look of pleasure, the feel of her in his arms, and that sound she made when she found that one perfect spot.

Need reached up and grabbed him by the balls. He was so close, but he wanted her to go with him.

He rolled them over and changed the angle, her fabulous ass filling his hands as he held her.

After two slow, easy strokes, her legs were wrapped around his waist and her heels dug into his lower back, urging him on. She met him thrust for thrust, drawing him in and bucking beneath him. Her back arched and she wiggled that ass of hers, and damn if he didn’t break out in a sweat, doing his best to hold back.

“Oh God, Logan. More. Harder. Faster.”

He fought to keep himself in check, but she was having none of it. She dug her short nails into his ass and he completely lost the control he’d always prided himself on. He looked into her eyes and was powerless to fight it.

She went wild in his arms. “Oh God. Logan. That’s it.”

Her body grabbed on to his like a glove convulsing against him. She screamed his name, shuddered in his arms, and he followed her over. He came so hard, his vision blurred, and it didn’t let up. He saw stars and Skye and felt something so deep it took his breath away and shot fear up his spine, making every hair on his body
stand at attention. He looked into her eyes and felt something he’d never experienced, something so monumental he’d never forget, but so foreign it defied words. Euphoria? No, it was deeper, spiritual, almost reverent; it was more than that, though—so much more. It was addictive and scary, and mind-blowing. And the worst part of all was he saw the same wonder reflected in Skye’s eyes. Their connection was so strong, so deep, so elemental, he had to look away or he’d be lost.

A shiver ripped through Skye when Logan looked away. It was as if a steel grate had come down and he’d closed up shop—hiding all the wonder and beauty she’d seen within him a second ago.

He rolled them over and questions raced through her mind. They were still joined, but he’d broken whatever other connection they’d had. Why? What happened? What was it?

There must have been a short circuit between her body and her brain, because her body never got the message that whatever they shared had just come to a screeching halt. Her blood still rushed through her ears, drowning out the sounds of heavy breathing, her heart still pounded as if searching for a way out of her chest, and aftershocks of cataclysmic proportions raced through her and into him.

Logan shuddered beneath her and she welcomed his reaction. It meant he was still with her—physically at least. She had no idea what he was thinking as her mind careened out of control. The only thing she knew was she felt the loss of something wonderful—as if she had the key to a priceless treasure—a treasure she beheld for only a moment, and lost in the blink of an eye.

She didn’t know what to do or say. She didn’t know how to
play this. She wanted to ask him what the hell just happened—other than the obvious.

Making love with Logan was unlike any sexual experience she’d ever had. And it was making love—until he pulled an emotional disappearing act anyway. Granted, she wasn’t very experienced; she’d had only three boyfriends, all of whom quickly tired of her brothers’ machinations. She couldn’t blame them and it really never bothered her overly much—just enough to make her brothers’ lives a living hell, but not enough to beg the guys to come back. Relationships seemed like too much work for too little payoff. She’d never really missed the sex, but then sex had never been anything like the sex she’d had with Logan. She had a feeling she’d miss it now—a lot.

Logan ran his hand over her hair. Great—she probably had bed head. Maybe she should have listened to Kelly after all.

“Skye,” he whispered, “are you still awake?”

She was afraid to look at him. She didn’t want to see that blank look on his face. “Yes, just comfortable. Sorry, am I crushing you?” The thought of sleep was laughable. She was physically and mentally exhausted, but she didn’t think she’d be able to sleep anytime soon.

He chuckled and she lifted her head to brave a look. He wore a smile that didn’t meet his eyes and looked a little frayed around the edges. He stroked her back, soothing, gentle, not letting on to the tension she saw around his mouth.

She needed to do something—anything—and the last thing she wanted to do was have the dreaded was-it-good-for-you discussion. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m a—”

“Guy. I know. You’re always hungry.”

He held her hips, and rocked into her, setting off a solar shower within her. “If not for food, then for you—sometimes both at the same time.”

“God, Logan. Don’t get me started again. You may not, but I need some recovery time. Besides, I’m hungry.” Another lie. She’d been telling so many white lies lately; at this rate, she was going to need a nose job.

She might not be hungry, but she needed to cook. Cooking was the only thing that made everything better. It helped her level out, dispelling the emotion, and allowed her to see things as they were—without the aid of rose-colored glasses. And that was exactly what she needed now. Especially with Logan.

She slid off him, steeling herself against the pleasure. She sucked in a breath. Yes, her brain and body were so out of sync.

Logan grabbed her before she could scoot off the bed. He stared into her eyes as if he wanted to say something, and she feared she’d hear an apology, so she looked away.