Fighting Fate (Granton University #1)(76)

He jolted and made a sound of objection deep in his throat. But a split second later, he sighed and caught her by the back of her neck to keep her from pulling away. She opened her mouth, and he was right there with her, tasting and exploring.

She moved closer, climbing into his lap. He caught her hip to keep their bodies from getting too close even as he groaned his satisfaction. One long, deep, wet kiss later, he broke away and tugged her back just enough to look into her eyes. The awe in his expression affected her with a tight pinch in the center of her chest. He really did love her; it shone from every pore in his body.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” His whisper sounded desperate, as if he expected her to return to her senses and abandon him any second. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered back, resting her forehead against his as she ran her fingers over his unshaven jaw. “This isn’t wrong.”

His blue eyes glittered, and his rickety answer came in unsteady wheezes. “The fact that you even had to say that—”

She kissed him again, muffling his arguments. He arched under her, sinking all ten of his fingers into her hair. She cupped his head, delighting in the stubbly texture of his buzzed hair against her palms.

Their mouths worked in harmony, and heat built between them. She wasn’t sure why she kept moving against him, but the friction felt really good, so she kept doing it, the slide of their bodies ignited a fire in her she didn’t want to bank.

Wrapping his arm around her lower back, he tugged her close until she was tucked flush against him. Their lower parts bumped against one another, and the shock of the sensation made her gasp.

He cursed. “Shit. Sorry. I forgot.”

But when he tried to scoot her back away from the warmest part of his lap, she tightened her thighs around him, resisting. “No, it’s okay. I’m fine.”

In her mind, she felt the cool air from Dorian lifting her dress and the rough texture of his fingers as they moved up her thigh. But the warm, firm security of Logan under her helped.

She wasn’t about to let him retreat and take away the only thing helping her, so she cupped his face, dipped her head, and kissed him again.

His resistance was futile. He met her lips eagerly and even pushed his hips against hers—though that part was probably an unconscious action. But God, he could kiss her forever, and she’d die a happy girl. He felt so good against her. Solid. Real. Logan. She wanted more.

Needing to experience her flesh against his, she worked her hands under his hoodie and another shirt and smoothed her palms flat against his back. His skin was warm and soft; she couldn’t stop touching him.

Murmuring an incoherent sound of pleasure, he tried to return the favor and buried one hand under the back of one of her sweatshirts. When he encountered more cloth, his fingers burrowed past that, only to find more.

Finally, he lifted his face. “How many layers are you wearing?”

She laughed, even though her nerves jittered with fear and excitement. “Too many.”

Gathering the hem of two of the sweatshirts, she tugged them off over her head. After tossing them aside, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close so she could nuzzle her nose against his.

“Better?”

He merely groaned as his warm fingers slid up her spine. Throwing her head back, she groaned too.

He’d just begun to kiss his way down her jaw to her neck when the handle to her room jiggled and the door flew open. Paige hopped off Logan’s lap and stumbled backward away from him.

“Oops.” Mariah giggled and covered her mouth, though her eyes above her hand danced with delight. She dropped her fingers to smirk, not even bothering to back from the room to give them privacy. “Well, this is interesting,” she cooed, reveling in the moment. “The two virgins of Granton are making out in my dorm room. I knew I’d eventually rub off on you guys.”

Logan cleared his throat and pushed off the bed, coming to his feet in one smooth, liquid move. He glanced toward Paige before running his hand over his short hair. “I, uh, I’ll talk to you later.”

Before Mariah could even pull the door shut, Logan grabbed his shirt and hoodie and streaked past her and shot into the hall.

Paige stared after him, dazed, embarrassed, and yet her body was pleasantly drunk off the arousal he’d stirred inside her.

“Well. I guess you’re already over your near-rape,” Mariah said, her voice dry as she strolled to her side of the room. “And thank God. I don’t think I could deal with a roommate who wigged out all the time the way you did last night.”

Paige scowled at her, irritated that Mariah had no more empathy than she did, and even more irritated she’d interrupted Paige’s delicious moment with Logan.

“I’m taking a shower,” she muttered, pushing to her feet. She grabbed a fresh bath towel and escaped into the bathroom.





Chapter Twenty-Nine


FRESHLY SHOWERED, Paige collected her purse, keys, and a borrowed coat from Mariah. She hurried outside to the parking lot where she found her car. Climbing behind the wheel, she started the engine and backed from the parking spot.

She had no destination in mind. She just knew she needed to get out for a while, away from campus, away from Mariah, away from anything to do with Dorian Wade and all the thoughts about what she was going to do concerning Logan.