I dug my fingers into the steering wheel as I sped back to the hotel. I knew what I had to do. Elle needed to go back to her life—without me. I closed my eyes, hating myself for the things I’d done that had put me where I was today.
But until I could take care of Tommy, she wasn’t safe with me. She might not be 100 percent safe with O’Shea, but I knew she was a hell of a lot safer with him than me.
Something felt off as I drove.
Was someone tailing me?
I took a swift turn and then another.
Looked again.
No one.
What the fuck was up with my imagination?
I had to cool it.
Concentrate.
Focus.
The lobby of the hotel was empty and I strode up to the desk, paid my bill with the cash in my pocket, and told them I’d be checking out in the morning.
When I opened the door to my suite, a chill ran through me. The terrace door was open, the curtains flapping against the wall. It was eerily quiet, and panic like I’d never experienced struck all at once.
My heart sped, my pulse raced, and a cold sweat broke out covering my forehead. “Elle!” I shouted.
No answer.
An image of Elle lying naked on the floor with an E carved into her stomach came unbidden. I ran to the bedroom. She wasn’t in bed. My gut twisted into a knot. I drew my gun and approached the slightly ajar bathroom door.
The light was warm and Elle was standing in her white shirt, just about to turn the shower on.
She was fine.
I had to say it more than once to convince myself.
Paranoia was a dangerous thing.
She was a dangerous thing.
She’d gotten under my skin, worked her way into my veins, and was now somehow making her way to my cold heart.
“Logan.” She jumped. “You scared me.”
Setting my gun on the counter, I inhaled a deep breath and rushed toward her.
She’d scared me too.
“Why are the doors open?”
She shrugged. “It was really warm in here and I wanted some air.”
Without a word, I backed her up to the counter and took her in my arms. I held her for the longest time before I pulled away. With trembling fingers, I unbuttoned her shirt and stripped it off her body. She was naked before me and so beautiful. As my eyes shifted, I could see myself in the cracked mirror over her shoulder.
I closed my eyes, unable to look. I didn’t want that constant reminder that burdened my skin to be anywhere in my thoughts.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asked.
My mouth was greedy on her neck. That sweet spot I knew she liked me to kiss was the first place I attacked. My hands roamed her body, never lingering, just needing to feel her everywhere.
Her head was thrown back and her words came out low. “Logan, did you find out anything about my sister?”
Breaking contact with her was a struggle, but I managed to lean back. “I did, but right now, I need you.” I couldn’t hold my words back. I hoped she understood.
She looked at me, and then as if she knew just how desperate I was for her, she started to unzip my pants. We moved together with the rhythm we had created and together we stripped my clothes off.
I was about to set her free, but I couldn’t suppress this need inside me to put my mouth all over her—to lick every part of her, to claim her, to mark her, to make her mine.
A noise escaped that beautiful throat of hers, something hoarse and raw, something akin to the way I was feeling—primitive.
My desire to fuck her was so fierce, I wasn’t sure my legs could hold us. Something was bursting inside my chest. Whatever it was, it was bold and unrelenting.
We were kissing and kissing and before I knew it, I had her up on the counter and her legs were wrapped around me. My cock was right where it needed to be. All I had to do was slide it inside her.
She swiveled her hips in a way that said, Fuck me, fuck me hard, and fuck me now.
I kept kissing her. Her mouth, her chin, her jaw, her throat.
My name slipped out of her lips in a sigh. “Logan.”
With my hands on each side of her face, I blinked a few times until she came into focus. When she was all I could see, what came out of my mouth was a surprise even to myself. “I want,” I said slowly, “to make love . . . to you . . . on the bed.”
The words were dry coming out of my throat and I had to swallow a few times before I could finish the sentence.
I wanted to say so much more, but for now, I settled for that.
She found my mouth again for one more kiss. “I’d like that too,” she said, a little breathless.
My arms were under her back and behind her knees. I was carrying her into the bedroom, in a gallant way, taking my time, looking down at her with each step. Her eyes met mine and I wondered if she was feeling anything close to what I was.