I leaned forward to get a good look at the moon through the windshield. Dark consumed every inch of the sky without a hint of light coming from the east.

“What’s the matter?” Logan asked from his position in the passenger seat. He brought my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my palm. “Besides the fact that you look weird behind the wheel of my car.”

Eyes still focused on the heavens, I slumped against the upholstery. It was almost over. Our endless night. One dance at the honky-tonk had turned into twelve. And that evolved into finding a Denny’s to eat breakfast at two a.m. when they kicked us out.

And now here we were, sitting in front of the carriage house waiting for the dawn to come crawling and the magic to end.

Logan shifted to face me, his back against the door, head resting on the glass. “Talk to me, Victoria.”

I smiled. “It’s so quiet. Isn’t it?”

He flipped on the radio. Which was so like him. See the problem, fix the problem. For weeks, he’d been doing it. From the moment he found me in the rain outside the tour bus.

“You do that a lot,” I said, digging my pinky nail into a crease on the steering wheel.

“What?”

“Fix things.”

Snorting a laugh, he bit my knuckle. “No … I really don’t. Ask my sister.” Facing him fully, I waited for him to elaborate, but he shook his head. “Too early for all that shit, princess. Ask me some other time.”

Shifting my focus back to the vast expanse of nothing outside the window, my stomach churned. In four days, Tennessee would be a memory. Things would change once we reached New York. There might not be another time.

I cleared my throat. “Did you start those online courses?”

My heart slammed against my ribs when he looked away.

“Yeah, I’m all over it.”

Of course he was. This was nothing to him. A “road thing,” as Paige used to call it.

“Things happen on the road, Belle. You’d know that if you were single.”

Was I single now?

Logan raised our joined hands, pointing toward a tiny sliver of light on the horizon. “Look … sunrise.”

The air left my body in a soft rush, that little piece of morning stealing my breath. And suddenly, all I wanted was a bed with a lot of covers I could hide under.

“I should go.”

It came out like a question, and Logan answered without words, straightening in his seat and scrubbing a hand over his face.

The magic was gone.

I climbed out of the car, eager to get inside before the morning rays crested the mountains. Logan joined me on the sidewalk, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“That was fun,” I said sincerely.

He nodded, looking anywhere but at me. “Where did Daryl get off to?”

I hitched a thumb over my shoulder at the white Taurus parked a few spaces away. “That’s his back up. Lukas something. Supposedly, Daryl only needs five hours sleep. He’ll be around later.”

Nodding, Logan toed the pavement, chewing his lip.

My thumb danced over the Mustang logo on the fob clutched in my hand. Reluctantly, I held out the keys. “Here you go. Almost forgot.”

He smiled as I dropped the set into his waiting palm. “I’ve never let anyone drive my car.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please. I didn’t even put twenty miles on the beast.”

“Beast?” His brow quirked as he took a step into my space. “She’s a girl.”

Twisting my mouth to one side, I fluttered my lashes. “Whatever you say.”

The smile melted. “You’re so fucking cute.”

He swung his gaze to the horizon, his eyes warming to turquoise in the barely there light.

“I better go,” I said.

If I thought Logan would stop me, I was mistaken. But I did sense him watching me as I walked away. Without my jacket, I felt exposed, even though the sky had yet to turn and I was merely a shadow.

Once inside, I leaned against the wall and pried off my boots. Groaning, I wiggled my toes inside the cushy socks.

My heart rate spiked when a soft knock echoed in the small foyer. I tiptoed to the door to check the peep hole, my breath trapped in my throat. Blond hair. That’s all I saw. But I knew it was Logan.

I swung the door open. “Hey, what—”

He crashed into me with enough force to knock me off balance. Not that it mattered because his hands were on my ass, his rock-hard chest pressed against me.

“You didn’t kiss me good night,” he rasped.

I tipped my head back to meet his gaze. “It’s morning.”

Curving his hand around my thigh, he lifted me off the ground like I weighed nothing, and we were eye to eye. “Then kiss me good morning.”

I smiled, because if Logan really wanted a kiss, he’d just take one. It wasn’t like I minded his little sneak attacks. But then I realized, he didn’t want to kiss me. He wanted me to kiss him.

For a good five seconds, I just stared. And then slowly, so slowly, with my eyes wide open, I pressed my lips to his. It wasn’t a kiss, but an invitation. “Do you want to come upstairs?”

Logan’s gaze roamed over my face, and that made me a little nervous. But then he smiled. “Yes.”

Just … yes.

His lips touched mine as he eased me to my feet. When he headed for the stairs, I felt a tug on my arm and realized our fingers were laced and I hadn’t moved.

He looked back at me with questions in his eyes. And my answer was the same as his. Yes. To whatever he offered. As if Logan knew my legs were the only thing keeping this train from moving forward, he doubled back and swept me up.

“I can walk,” I protested, secretly grateful I didn’t have to.

He smiled, but said nothing. And then, because he was right there, our endless night lingering on his skin like an imprint, I kissed his neck. His fingers dug into my flesh, and he released a sharp breath. And I did it again. And again. Normally, it was all Logan moving us toward the finish. But not right now. Right now it was me. Because I remembered this from before. And I liked it. But now it was after, and I still liked it. And I wanted it. I wanted Logan.

Gripping his T-shirt, I held on tight when he tried to lay me down on the bed. And for once, he was the one off balance. The clumsy one. We toppled onto the mattress, all arms and legs. My hands on his belt, his mouth … everywhere.

And the words. His: “Fuck baby, I want you,” and “God, you smell good,” and “Yes. Fuck yes.”

And then mine: “Now … Please.”

Everything got quiet and still. Frantic, but not. Because this was going to happen.

Did I want this to happen?

Logan’s weight disappeared, and he was on his feet, looking down at me, the hem of his T-shirt in his hand.

“On or off, Victoria?”

His eyes were a darker blue than I’d ever seen, filled with desire. But still, the choice was mine. Another night of not quite sex, if that’s what I wanted. A safety net.

“Off. Take it off.”

And though I knew I could still change my mind, something clicked as I watched him slide out of his clothes. I scooted toward the pillow, and he smiled, eyeing me like I was prey. And then he was on me again, hands under my dress, tugging off my boy shorts.

I squeezed my eyes shut, the world shimmering around the edges as his tongue dipped between my folds. Not gently, like last time. But urgent.

“So sweet,” he growled in between licking and biting and sucking. “Your cunt is so sweet.” I stopped moving, and he peered up at the same time I looked down. “You don’t like that word, princess?”

His voice was rough. Challenging. But his eyes were still soft. Still gentle. Still Logan’s.

“I like it,” I was surprised to hear myself say. And he smiled, like he knew it all along. And maybe he did. Because this, all of it, felt so right. I didn’t have time to ponder, because his hot mouth descended again. One finger slid inside me and found that place on my inner wall that made everything clench.

“Logan …” My fingers coiled into his hair, and the world splintered. And I was coming. And chanting. Writhing against him.

His free hand found mine, fisted in the sheets, and he pried my fingers apart, lacing our digits. Like he knew if he didn’t, I might float away. His lips moved to my inner thigh as the last waves of my orgasm receded. And then … nothing. My eyes flew open because he was kissing that spot on my skin where there was no feeling. Except that there was. In my head, there was.

Logan finally finished, and he rose to his knees. With our fingers still threaded, he pulled me up so he could tug my dress over my head.

“Wait,” I said. His head cocked to the side when our eyes met. “No … Not wait. I just … I want to get under the covers.”

He nodded, something creeping into his eyes. Disappointment? Maybe I’d imagined it, because he tossed back the comforter. When I scrambled underneath, he followed me and drew the blanket over our heads like a tent. I almost laughed, because it felt like we were hiding.

“Kiss me,” he said, his fingers in my hair. And then his mouth crashed into mine, and I tasted myself on his lips. When he finally broke the connection, he rolled away, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him rip the foil packet with his teeth.

God, I was such a novice. How did I forget about that part?

“What is it?” he asked, grasping my chin and coaxing my gaze to his.

I thought about lying. But this was Logan. “I’m so stupid. I forgot about condoms.”

It was meant to be a joke. Self-deprecating. But his eyes flashed with something feral. Just as quickly, it disappeared. “Lucky for you, I didn’t.”

The post orgasmic fog had lifted enough to let all my worries creep inside, filling the space in our little tent. And of course, Logan noticed that too. He was above me now, his slim hips between my legs.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and when all I could manage was a jerky nod, he pushed the covers off. His eyes narrowed, gaze roaming over my face. “Baby, you look scared. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“No, I’m fine.” I slid my arms around his neck and tried to pull him back to me. Back to where we were just minutes ago.

But he didn’t budge, shifting his weight to the side.

“Why are we stopping?” I asked, even though I feared the answer.

“We’re not. I’m just waiting.” I cut my gaze to the side and found him smiling. “I want all of you, Victoria. When I’m here,” his fingers dipped between my folds at the same time his lips brushed my temple, “I want to be here, too. Inside your head. So tell me what it is.”

Before I completely ruined the moment, I took a deep breath. “I don’t know how this is going to go. My body could let me down.”

Let you down.

He grinned. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem considering all the orgasms.”

I bit my lip. “You weren’t … you know … inside, before.”

Propping on his elbow, he looked down at me. “So you’re worried about me, then?”

What really worried me was this conversation. The need for it. “You’ve seen the scars on the outside, but inside. My pelvis was crushed. What if …?”

I couldn’t tell him the real truth. That I worried something was wrong. Inside. That when they put me back together, maybe they missed something. It was an irrational fear. But I pictured the mesh that held me together. The fragile seams.

Logan eased on top of me, and despite my trepidation, I opened for him. “Tell me if I hurt you,” he roughed out. And then I felt him at my entrance. Resting his forehead against mine, he sank in an inch. When I gasped at the intrusion, he stilled.

“I’m okay,” I said. “I’m good.” Another inch. And another. And then I was full. So full. “Oh … God.”

“Open your eyes, Victoria.” My lids fluttered open and I met his gaze. So intense. The truest, bluest blue. “Are you still okay?”

I nodded, and unable to find the words, I wrapped my legs around his waist.

This time, he was the one who closed his eyes. “Fuck … fuck … fuck. Tell me you’re good, because I want to move, baby. You feel so fucking tight. So wet. I can’t …”

Sliding my arms around him, my fingers threaded the soft strands at the back of his head, and I guided him to the crook of my neck. “Go,” I whispered, close to his ear.

And he did. Slow at first. Then faster. Harder. All the while, he spoke softly against my skin. And then his lips found mine, and our tongues joined the dance. The rhythm. The song. And when I toppled over the edge, Logan was right there with me. Ready to break my fall.