Free Fall Read online

  With her help, he kicked off the rest of his clothes and then came down over her again, braced on his forearms, cradling her face in his hands, the plump cushions of the couch swallowing them both up. Between her legs he was hard and heavy, and she lifted her hips, needing him inside like she needed her next breath. But he held back.

  “Lily.” His thumbs glided along her jaw, up and back, a hypnotic touch that made her gaze a prisoner of his. Then he replaced his thumbs with his mouth, a light teasing touch that had her trying to turn her head to catch it with hers, wanting the oblivion of another soul-shattering kiss, but he evaded her, damn it, dipping down to taste her throat, and then farther down to a breast, which he drew into his mouth, pulling a cry out of her that she couldn’t hold in.

  With his tongue, his hands, his teeth, he drove her up, until unbelievably, she was quivering on the very edge of an orgasm. She’d never come with just a few hot kisses and a mouth on her breast before, but she could now, oh God, she almost could if he’d just touch—She wiggled a bit, shaky and desperate, trying to rub herself against him, but again he pulled back just enough. With a growl of frustration, she spread her legs farther, and he settled more deeply between them, rocking, the rhythm of it making her cry out again. Yes! But still unable to get to the big bang fast enough, she reared up and fastened her mouth to his, reaching between them to guide him home.

  “Wait.” He dropped his forehead to hers and gulped in air. “I want to—”

  “This. I want this.” She arched up, and with a rough groan, he sank into her.

  Fierce and intense pleasure rippled through her, but it still wasn’t enough. She writhed beneath him, panting, trembling, desperate. She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she’d felt a man’s weight on her like this, but clearly it’d been too long, a fact proven when he pulled out and she nearly sobbed.

  “Condom,” he said thickly, and dipped his head, taking a breast into his mouth again, suckling gently, then harder, yet again building the heat and tension and need to unbearable heights.

  Then he lifted his head, his eyes on fire, and she thought, Oh now. Now. But he only ran a hand over her calf, her knee, the inside of her thigh. He brushed a finger over her, and she nearly jerked off the couch. With a heated smile, he did it again, stroking the pad of his finger up and down, then up again, dipping into her wet heat, spreading it, intently watching his every movement as he came back to her very center every time, circling it, over and over.

  Her breath came in short pants, all of which backed up in her throat when he lowered his head and replaced his fingers with his tongue. Her groan mixed with his now, and she began to skitter out of control. The shudders began deep inside her, bursting when he pressed her thighs open even farther and suckled her deep into his mouth.

  And this wasn’t the little pop she was used to, either, no quick satisfaction of a basic need, but an implosion of heat and lights and sensory overload, made all the more overwhelming and confusing because she felt her emotions tangle up in it.

  He let her down carefully, sweetly, and feeling battered, she came back to herself. His eyes smiled. “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi, yourself. More.”

  “Hold that thought.” He reached onto the floor for his jeans and pulled a condom out from the pocket. He ripped the packet open with his teeth, then rolled it on himself—yet another surprisingly erotic sensation, watching his fingers handle that basic necessity.

  “I wanted to take this slow,” he said. “I wanted to last all night, but watching you fall apart did me in.” He kissed her, hard and fierce, using his tongue in a way that left her weak. Need slammed back into her, closing hot and greedy around her, and she moaned, surging up to drape herself around him. She rolled, intending to swap positions so she could straddle him and take matters into her own hands, but they fell off the couch to the floor.

  She found herself pinned beneath him and, laughing breathlessly, wrapped her legs around his waist. “Logan. Now.”

  “Yeah, now.” Digging his fingers into her hips, he drove himself into her with an erection that filled her to bursting.

  She closed her eyes. She always closed her eyes, lost in the sensation of wet flesh dragging on wet flesh, but he slid his fingers into her hair. “Lily. Look at me.”

  And so she did, locked her eyes on his hot, fierce ones. “Keep looking at me,” he whispered, and began to move.

  She could do little else now, held captive by his dark, opaque gaze, by his hard body thrusting into hers. She felt it build again, even bigger this time, and then…she burst.

  “Oh, yeah, that’s the way,” he said, his voice rough and gravelly. He sank his fingers into her hair, holding her head cradled in his palms as she cried out and trembled, and then he followed her over.

  8

  WHEN LILY COULD BREATHE again, she opened her eyes. She lay flat on her back on the floor of her living room, sprawled naked and damp and stuck to another body. A most excellent body that even now could affect her heart rate.

  Logan pressed a kiss to her throat and turned her head toward his. Propping his head on his hand, he sent her a sexy smile.

  Helplessly, she returned it.

  He stroked his free hand down her torso, letting it come to rest just beneath her breast. His thumb lazily swiped at her nipple, which responded immediately to his touch. “Mmm.” Bending over her, he sucked it into his mouth.

  She heard her low, soft moan and pulled back, surprised that she could still want him. “Want something to eat?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “I do.”

  He was silent while she got to her feet, hunting up the clothing they’d haphazardly tossed around them.

  Where the hell was her tank top?

  “Lily? You okay?”

  “Are you kidding?” She let out a laugh meant to convince them both that she was totally okay, more than. She was merely starving, not desperately trying to avoid looking into his amazing eyes, hiding from the truth.

  She was scared. Bone-deep scared that what they’d just done didn’t seem like the usual wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. Worse, she had a feeling that she could have him every night of the three he had left here and she’d still feel the same way.

  She couldn’t find her panties so she shimmied into her jeans without them, and then tugged on Logan’s T-shirt, which was inside out. With a growl of frustration, she ripped it off, and then found it tugged out of her hands.

  Logan had gotten to his feet. Apparently not feeling the same need to dress, he stood before her gloriously naked and turned his T-shirt right side out for her, then let it drift down over her head. His fingers straightened the sleeves, and then he looked into her eyes. “What’s the matter?”

  “I told you, I’m hungry.” She turned away but he snagged her and turned her back.

  “What’s the matter?” he repeated softly, making her throat tight and her eyes burn, which really bit. She never cried, and certainly not over a guy. She wasn’t going to start now.

  He stroked a strand of her undoubtedly wild hair off her face with a warm, callused finger. “Want me to guess?”

  “I’m just—”

  “Hungry. I know. What happened, Lily, did I get too close there for a moment?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” She backed away and his hands fell from her. “Popcorn or toast? I don’t have much of a selection because I usually head down to the cafeteria when I need something.”

  He looked at her for a long beat. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Popcorn,” she decided and whirled away from his amazing body, from the look in his eyes that said he wanted to gobble her up whole again, as soon as he inhaled her thoughts.

  Thoughts that weren’t up for public consumption.

  She stuck the popcorn into the microwave and watched the light come on, concentrated on the bag growing larger and larger, and when the microwave beeped, she nearly jumped. She took the bag out, carefully opened it and started munching.