“Habit.”
As her mind came into focus, she became aware of his bare chest against her cheek, his thick, bare thighs beneath her. In her panic she must have scrambled onto his lap. She closed her eyes as her fear spun itself into lust. She pulled from his arms but immediately felt vulnerable again.
“St-stay,” she pleaded.
He didn’t respond immediately, and as her senses righted themselves, she felt the reason he was holding back. As she’d been assessing her own desires, he’d gone gloriously, impressively hard as steel beneath her.
“Not a good idea.” His voice was thrillingly low and rough. “I need to be alert.”
“Well, I think you’ve achieved that.”
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, his jaw twitching.
“I just don’t want to be alone. Please? We won’t…”
She knew they’d both be testing their willpower, and she watched as he fought some kind of silent battle that had his eyes narrowing and his jaw clenching again. He set her off his lap and scrubbed a hand down his face.
“I promise not to touch you.” She tried to sound confident, but all of her girlie parts were begging her to lie.
He made a noise deep in his throat that could be read as anger or desire, and the way his muscles were strung tight made her not want to take a chance at guessing the wrong one. He looked away, and when he met her gaze again, his eyes had gone dark and seductive.
“Stormy.” He was breathing hard. “It’s not your touch I’m afraid of.”
She thought about that for a minute before it clicked. “Oh. Then I won’t let you touch me.”
He scrubbed his face again.
“Please?” She didn’t want to be alone. She hadn’t slept in days, and she desperately needed to rest. At least that’s what she told herself as she tried not to admit—even to herself—that she wanted to be close to Logan. On the drive up from the city, the distance between them had felt too vast. When they’d arrived at the cabin, she’d wanted to curl up on his lap and feel his arms around her as she rested her head on his shoulder. She was good at lying to herself, but they were momentary lies, chased by a truth she couldn’t avoid. She was falling for Logan Wild.
Without a word he set the gun on the bedside table and crawled between the sheets. He lay on his back, the sheet tented by his erection. She pretended not to notice and fought the urge to wrap her body around him like a second skin. He draped his arm over his eyes and lay rigid beside her. She turned onto her side with her back facing Logan, knowing she’d made a mistake. There was no way she’d be able to resist him.
She did feel safe. Safer than she’d ever felt in her life—at least from outside forces. But her heart wasn’t safe at all. Logan didn’t have anything to gain by helping her. She hadn’t offered him money or her body or anything in return, and here he was, opening his cabin to her and putting his own life on hold. She inched toward him out of a desire to be close to the man, not the PI, and she felt him tense up even more. Her back met his side. Her legs touched his. His skin was blazing hot, and that heat spread through her like wildfire. She needed to feel his arms around her. Even if they didn’t have sex, she wanted to feel like she was his. To pretend, even for a few minutes, that she wasn’t on the run from a maniac and that she and Logan could actually have something real between them.
“Stormy…” he growled.
“I’m sorry. I just want to be closer.”
He made another sexy, guttural sound as he curled his body around hers. One strong thigh slid over hers, and a thick arm circled her chest. His hand cupped her breast as he spooned her. Stella closed her eyes against her mounting desire, acutely aware of his heat, his strength, and his massive erection pressing against her ass. She tried to ignore his hot breath on her neck sending shivers of anticipation through her.
She was not going to get a lick of sleep tonight.
Lick. Hmm.
His hard length felt like a passionate challenge, impossible to resist. She nuzzled against him.
“Stormy.” A warning. He tightened his grip and pressed his hips forward.
His conflicting messages made her smile. She trapped her lower lip between her teeth and tried to ward off the urge to tear her panties off and ease down onto him.
Her heart raced.
Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.
His cock twitched against her.
Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.
His lips met the curve of her shoulder, and she felt herself go damp. She tried to convince herself that he was just getting comfortable and his lips had landed there by accident.
He moaned.
Lordy, Lordy.
“I want to make love to you,” he whispered.