Logan Kade (Fallen Crest #5.5)(61)

I laughed harshly. “You can’t think of it? I can. Because I have to.” She started to look away, but I didn’t let her. I turned her face back to mine, gently but firmly. “It will happen again. He’s going to go back. He’s going to want back in, and maybe they’ll let him. Maybe all will be forgiven. That’s what they’ll say, but it won’t be the case. Rankin will want to know who we are, and who you are.”

She started to shake her head. “No.”

“Yes.” She had to hear me. “You need to stay away from him.”

“Logan.”

“I mean it.” My hands fell to her shoulders. “Please, Taylor. I know he’s family, but he’s sick. He can’t be around you anymore.”

A tear slid down her cheek. She didn’t brush it away. I don’t think she even knew it was there. Cupping the side of her face, I brushed it aside with my thumb and rested my forehead to hers.

All the walls I had, all the shields I’d erected over the years—all of those were gone in this instant. Knowing she’d been so close to danger, seeing the fear in her eyes—that shattered what I hadn’t been wanting to admit to myself. From the first time I saw her at that party, saw how she was ready to help Sam when she was a stranger, I had fallen for Taylor Bruce. Since then I had fallen farther than I was ready to admit to myself.

I closed my eyes and held her, but I was rattled.





TAYLOR


Logan led me upstairs to his room a few minutes later. It was just Logan and me now. As soon as we were inside and the door closed behind us, he pulled me in for a hug. “Are you okay?”

I burrowed into him, my head resting against his chest, and I breathed in his strength. I held on to him as tightly as he held me.

I nodded, but I couldn’t talk. My throat wasn’t working.

His chest loosened suddenly, as if a ball of tension had been released. He cradled the back of my head and held me close. We just stood, relishing the feel of each other’s arms. I didn’t want to pull back, but after a few minutes, Logan slowly peeled himself away. He groaned and dipped down to press his lips to mine.

I gasped. I hadn’t realized how much I needed that touch from him. It gave me strength and assurance all at once. I pressed against him, never wanting the kiss to end.

“Fuck it,” he groaned against my lips. He grasped my waist and lifted me.

No more words were shared that night. Only touching, caressing, loving.

He carried me to his bed, and we undressed each other. As he lifted my shirt, I pulled his off. My bra unclasped at the same time I undid his jeans. I pulled them off, and he started on my pants. I was soon naked, panting, and ready for him. He paused just above me, the condom on, and looked down into me.

That moment. That look.

I knew it was coming, and my heart had clamored for it. It was the moment when I saw into him, past all his walls, shields, jokes, and the facade he wore for most people. He shed it for me, and as I closed my eyes, feeling him enter me, I knew this was the real Logan.

He was giving himself to me.





SHITSTORM


TAYLOR


“You and Logan Kade?”

I was letting myself inside my house the next morning when Jason materialized in the hallway, already inside. I looked up, my keys still in the door, and shook my head. “Like you’re one to preach.” Last night’s events came rushing back to me, and I yanked the keys out, slamming the door behind me. “That was a shitstorm, Jason.”

His scowl lessened a notch as he shoved his hands into his pockets and slouched down. “I know I’m screwed. You don’t have to remind me.”

“I told you to come here to regroup, figure out your next move. Not to think about how pissed you are at my choice of bedmate.”

“Speaking of bedmate.” He tapped his wrist where a watch would’ve been. “It’s nine in the morning. You stayed with him?”

“Yes.” I leveled him with a hard look. “And piss off again if you’re climbing on that pedestal. That ship has sailed. It’s left the dock, and anything you’re riding right now that gives you the audacity to lecture me, you’re flat-out wrong.”

And I was done with this conversation. Brushing past him, I went to my room. He didn’t follow, not that I expected him to. I was almost to the point where I didn’t give a crap what he did. Almost. But as I tossed my stuff on the bed, I knew that wasn’t true. I did care. I cared a lot.

When I came back from the shower, dressed for the day, Jason had made coffee. He extended a cup to me when I came into the kitchen. “Peace offering?”

I took it. “This doesn’t get you off the hook.”

“I know.”

He was less growly than before, and the knot inside of me loosened. I reached for the bread, but he waved me off. “Go sit,” he said. “I’ll make you breakfast.”

“You will?”

He opened the fridge and pulled out a container. Lifting the lid, he showed me a pile of eggs. “I’ll make you some of these.”

“You made me coffee, and you’re going to make me breakfast?”

“Yes, and don’t clench your butt cheeks about it. Sit. Let me do this for you, okay?”

“Because of last night?”