Exposed (Madame X, #2)(5)

I force myself to walk. Refuse to let my knees fold in, refuse to let my lungs seize. The panic is a knife in my throat, a blade in my chest, hot wires constricting my breath. I am clutched by talons of panic. The sirens did it, the sounds of sirens howling like wild beasts, howling in my ear.

Tires squeal somewhere and I cannot see, my eyes are squeezed shut, and hot dark marble burns my bicep as I lean against the side of the building, succumbing to panic.

I hear questions, someone asking if I’m all right.

Clearly I am not, but I am beyond answering.

Until I feel a hand on my shoulder.

Hear a voice in my ear.

Heat from a big body crowding against me, blocking the world and the noises and the questions.

“Hey. Breathe, okay? Breathe. Breathe, X.” That voice, like the warmth of the sun made sonic. “It’s me. I’ve got you.”

No. It cannot be.

Cannot be.

I look up.

It is.

Logan.





TWO


What—what are you—” I cough, clear my throat, try again. “What are you doing here, Logan?”

His palm touches my cheek, and I can breathe. “Stalking you, obviously.”

“Logan.” I manage to sound scolding. It is a feat of will.

I hear the grin in his voice, but also the strain. “Actually, I wasn’t kidding. I really am stalking you. I mean, I’ve been looking for you. Hoping to get a glimpse of you. Talk to you, even just for a second.”

“Why?” This is weak, small, confused.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you, X. I’ve tried, and I suck at it. I’m really good at thinking about you, it seems, and not so good at not thinking about you.”

This brings a smile to my lips. “You must be a glutton for punishment then.”

“I am, though. I love punishment.” His hands weave into mine, help me to my feet. “The real truth is, I have business on this end of town, the next building over. I couldn’t help passing by this building and wondering if you were up there. If you’re happy. I never thought I’d actually get to see you, though.”

Now I’m confused. Which of his statements is the truth? “You’re contradicting yourself, Logan.”

“I know. I’m trying to obfuscate how debilitated I am at running into you like this.”

“Obfuscate. That’s a wonderful word.” What I don’t ask is why he’s so debilitated. I don’t think the answer would do me good.

“Are you obfuscated, X?”

“Completely.” Am I gazing up at him?

I am. Very much so. I am faint. My heart is pitter-pattering. I want to feel his hands in mine again.

“Good,” he says. “Then my work here is done.”

“Jokes do not suit this situation, Logan.”

“No?” He sounds serious, suddenly. His voice smooth, too smooth. Too featureless. A little cold. “What am I supposed to say then? That I’m still absurdly, childishly hurt by the fact that you chose him over me? Or that I legit just cannot stop thinking about you? Wanting you? That I keep wanting to show up at your door again and literally carry you off over my shoulder like a f*cking Viking? What is the right etiquette for a situation like this, Madame X?”

“Don’t, Logan. Please don’t.” I don’t mind begging.

“I can still feel you, your bare legs around my waist.” His voice is in my ear, murmuring. Intimate. Sensuous. “I can feel the heat from your tight * against my stomach. I can smell you. I can feel how wet you are for me. For me. You wanted me, X. I could have done anything I wanted with you. I had you naked, in my arms. Wet and wanting and desperate and all over me. I could have laid you down on the carpet right there in the hallway and f*cked you senseless, and I guarantee you, if I had, you wouldn’t have walked away from me.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Oh, I am damned.

“Because you weren’t ready, and you still aren’t. You were scared, and you still are. You were like a frightened little rabbit out of its hole for the first time, blinking in the sunlight. There’s a lioness inside you, X, you just have to find it and become it.”

“I didn’t even make it ten feet from the door on my own, Logan,” I whisper against the soft cotton of his T-shirt.

“But you walked out, didn’t you? Baby steps to the elevator, Bob.”

“What?”

“What About Bob?” he asks, expectant. “No? Nothing? Okay, never mind. It’s a movie reference.”

I sigh. “Total amnesia, remember? Movies are not exactly a common feature in my life, Logan.”

“Well, that’ll be the first thing I’ll rectify. You and me, we’ll stay naked in my bed for a month, having hot, wild monkey sex and watching movies. Catch you up on all the great cinema you’re missing out on. What About Bob? is a classic. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Goodfellas, The Godfather, shit, I’ll even throw in some rom-com for you. Notting Hill is a great one, or How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days. Or, wait, wait, Love Actually. God, that movie is awesome, although I know some people hate it. I love it. It’s real.”

“Hot and wild monkey sex, Logan? Really?”

He laughs in my ear, pulling me to his chest, arms wrapping around me. “Yes, X. Hot and wild monkey sex. It’s the greatest thing on earth. No inhibitions, no time, no responsibilities, nothing but both of us taking as much pleasure from each other as we can, for hours and hours and hours until we’re too exhausted to even move.”