The Mistake

Snap out of it.

I try to regulate my breathing, but it’s coming out in shallow bursts. From the way his breath hitches, I know Logan senses the change in my body, the quickening of my pulse. The sexual awareness heating the air between us.

“How long are you going to keep fighting it?” His voice is husky. Laced with desire.

“I’m not fighting anything.” It’s a miracle how composed I sound when my heart is thumping harder than the bass line of the dance track downstairs. “I already made it clear I’m not interested in going out with you. And I don’t want to rekindle last year’s hook-ups, either. We had some fun and now we’re done.”

“Solid rhymes, Dr. Seuss.” Still undeterred, he eliminates two more inches of space, standing so close I can feel the heat of his body. “So you’re not attracted to me at all anymore?”

I don’t answer. I can’t answer. Desire has clogged my throat.

“Because I’m still attracted to you.” Heavy-lidded eyes rake over my body. “If anything, I think I want you even more.”

I know what he means. The attraction seems a thousand times stronger. It’s hot and fierce and I can feel it pulsing deep in my sex. My gaze is glued to his mouth, to the sensual curve of his lower lip. I miss kissing him. I miss the greedy thrust of his tongue, and the way he groaned when it swirled against mine.

Distance. I need to back away, steel myself against his palpable sex appeal and—my butt bumps the wall. Crap. Nowhere to go. No way to run from the awareness incinerating all the oxygen around us.

“Kiss me.” His raspy command is barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

His head bends, his mouth inches from mine. I’m mesmerized by it. By the beard growth shadowing his jaw and the way his tongue darts out to moisten his top lip. One kiss wouldn’t be the end of the world, right? I can just get it out of my system. Get him out of my system.

He lifts his hand to my face, and rough fingertips skim my cheek. I shiver.

“Kiss me,” he murmurs again, and my control snaps.

I grab the back of his head and bring his mouth to mine, kissing him as if possessed. When he groans against my lips, I feel the strangled sound in my clit. Oh God. I can’t breathe. Can’t concentrate on anything but his hungry tongue in my mouth and the rapid beating of my heart.

He reaches down and cups my ass, pressing my lower body to his and rotating his hips. “I’ve been fantasizing about this all summer.” His agonized whisper heats my neck before his mouth latches on, sucking hard enough to make me moan.

I cling to his broad shoulders. Helpless to stop this. He kisses a path back to my lips, teases the seam with his tongue before plunging inside again. His hips keep rocking. So do mine. I’m aching for him and he knows it. He growls softly, then slips one hand under my skirt, his fingers tickling my thigh, gliding higher, moving closer to the spot that’s begging for his touch. Millimeters. That’s how close he is. I want to scream for him to touch me already, but he’s taking his time. Rubbing my inner thigh with his thumb. Slowly. Too damn slow.

He breaks the kiss and stares into my eyes, while his hand eases closer to the crotch of my panties. His fingers tremble. His breathing grows labored.

And then he yanks his hand away, his expression so tortured you’d think he’d been water-boarded for three days straight.

“No, goddamn it,” he croaks. “This wasn’t what I wanted.”

“W-what?” I’m stuttering, still dazed from those mind-melting kisses.

“I just wanted a kiss. Not a hook-up.” He draws a deep breath. “I meant what I said the other day. I want to take you on a date.”

“Logan…” I trail off warily.

Footsteps echo from the stairs, and Logan quickly steps back, his gaze shifting to the landing.

When Morris rounds the corner, my heart jumps to my throat.

Oh shit.

Morris. I totally forgot about Morris.

“There you are,” he says, his smile uneasy. “I was worried you might’ve gotten lost on your way to the bathroom.”

I inhale deeply, willing my heart rate to stabilize. Praying that my expression doesn’t look too guilty. Or worse, aroused.

“No, I found it,” I answer. “I ran into…a friend on my way out.”

Logan’s nostrils flare.

“This is Logan,” I add, then gesture to him as if Morris couldn’t figure it out for himself.

My date nods at the guy I was just making out with. “Nice to meet you.” He glances at me. “Ready to rejoin the party?”

No.

Yes.

I don’t even know anymore.

What I do know is that I came to this party with Morris, who happens to be a terrific person, and I’m not about to ditch him for another guy, no matter how tempted I may be.

“Sure.” I make only the briefest amount of eye contact with Logan as I murmur, “I’ll see you around.” Then I follow Morris downstairs and force myself not to look over my shoulder.

But I can feel Logan’s eyes on me the entire time.





22




Logan