Chasing Impossible (Pushing the Limits #5)(76)

“You love me,” I say and wish I had the courage to turn those words around to use for him, but just trying to accept he has emotions for me is about all I can handle for one day.

Logan circles his arms around my waist and flips us. The breath catches in my throat and when he settles his chest on mine, I slowly release the air.

He’s on top, I’m on the bottom, and this time, unlike my bedroom, he’s not holding back. Logan’s sweetly pressing into me, our legs tangled, and just the right brilliant and blush-worthy parts are touching.

I expect Logan to take possession of my mouth, to return to that frantic pace that we had discovered so quickly at the bar, but instead he skims his nose down my cheek and places one delicious kiss on my neck. My cells zing to life as my fingers press into his back.

Logan explores me using this gradual assault. Kisses, touches, and caresses. All of it in this slow sweeping motion down. Along my bare skin at the top of my tank, then over the material, barely nipping places that make Logan a tad naughty and me devilishly happy.

He fists the ends of my tank and slides it up, leaving my belly button naked. I giggle as he kisses me there and squirm as he purposely tickles me on my side. When I declare mutiny and threaten to roll away, Logan returns to kissing my lips and I get lost in the sensations.

I wiggle as he covers me with his body again and places his strong hands on my hips. We play, letting our hands roam and satisfy curiosity of the skin.

It’s tickles and tingles and shivers and pleasurable sighs. It’s his fingers tracing the inside of my thigh, my hands messaging the broad shoulders I’ve admired from afar. It’s all slow, all methodical, and it’s causing this warming in my belly to wind tighter and tighter and tighter.

And there’s this moment when Logan moves that I let out a small gasp. Oh, that felt good. So very good. And then he does it again. And again. And it’s like we’re a wildfire. The good kind of fire. The kind that destroys the old and creates new. It’s fire licking through my veins, rhythmic movements that cause me to want more. It’s this need, this desire and as we hold each other so close that I’m no longer sure where I begin and Logan ends we race for the horizon and discover heaven.

It’s the only way to describe it...heaven. My body is weightless and I would think I had died if I didn’t breathe in. Logan edges to the side and pulls me into him. It’s exhaustion and slow kisses and our bodies that are now correctly fitting puzzle pieces. Never before have I felt so high and all of it with our clothes on. It’s odd how close I feel to Logan, odd how so many emotions are flooding through me.

“Hey, Logan,” I whisper.

He kisses one cheek, then the other, the tip of my nose, and then my lips. “Yes?”

“I don’t know what love is very well either, but I hope it feels like this.” It’s not poetic. It’s not really a declaration. But it’s a lot like being an addict or not being addict, it’s one of those things that I’m not sure of and I’m wary of jumping in and admitting to too much, too fast. Love is one of those things that I’m not sure I’d know unless I truly know who I am myself.

Logan’s eyes glitter and it’s the same spark as when he wins a dare. As if I just said the words back to him that he said to me that I’m still having a hard time digesting. Seeing all that happiness on him is amazing and terrifying and I change the subject

“Now that you’ve captured me in the chase,” I say, “will you tire of me?”

“Abby, can’t imagine one minute with you being boring.”

I grin and lean up so that my arm’s on his chest. “You said that once, remember? When I was turning eight and scared no one at school liked me and you promised to be my best friend for life.”

Logan beams as he combs his fingers through my hair again. “As I said, never a boring moment.”

Logan

The alarm on my cell goes off and I’m so dead to the world that my eyes won’t open and my muscles that I swear were filled with concrete overnight won’t budge. Every breath in is the scent of wild honeysuckle and underneath my arm is solid warmth. My hand is splayed across Abby’s tempting belly, and her back is tucked close to me. Sometime during the night, Abby laid her hand over mine.

We finished Chris’s grandfather’s land on the second day and we’ve moved around to neighboring farms, cashing in on their need for work. It’s been going faster with Chris helping us lift the hay and with Abby driving, but regardless, it’s work.

One more day—today—and we’re done. Only problem, my body may be done before our time commitment. My alarm continues to chime and cold feet kick at my shins. My arm tightens around Abby and my fingers slide to her side. It’s amazing what I can get Abby to do or not do while threatening to tickle her.

“Do it and I’ll cut your balls off,” she says in this sexy yet groggy voice. “And turn off the alarm.”

I chuckle and the air mattress underneath us squeaks. “You can turn it off.”

“It’s on your side and I was shot, remember? I’m healing and need my rest, not being your damn tractor slave.”

I crack my eyes open and her bandage stares me in the face. Regretfully, I remove my hand from her stomach, turn off the alarm, and then I’m careful as I peel back the tape. The wound that was raw and angry when we first arrived here is now healing.