I can’t deny him. Logan is sexy as fuck, naughty, and a good man who wants me to stay and live with him. How can I say no? Will things get sticky at times? Probably. But I need him as much as he seems to need me, and I can’t be the rational girl when it comes to him .

Right now, this is what I need in my life .

Seeing his face between my legs, looking up at me with those silver eyes is all it takes to send me tumbling over the cliff. I come hard against his face, just like he wants me to. I don’t even care that someone in another building could totally be watching us through their telescope. Ask me if I care. I cry out, my moans filling the space of the greenhouse. My fingers curl into his hair, and I writhe, pushing myself against him, stretching out the orgasm as far as it’ll go .

I love him, I love this, I love our lovemaking, and I love being back here again .

I know it will bite me in the ass later, but as long as it’s Logan doing the biting, I just don’t care. When the waves die away, Logan stands to his feet, takes my head in his giant hand, and kisses me, pushing his Paisley-coated tongue into my mouth. I taste the sweetness and rev up for another round, because now comes his turn even though I’m spent .

His hands rove over my back and down to my ass, squeezing my cheeks hard and slapping them a bit. His fingers slide up and down my soaked pussy, then he returns to fucking me slowly with his massive digits. I know it’s just two fingers, but two of Logan’s fingers feels bigger and thicker than my own. I grow wet again and revel in another kiss, inhaling his scent plus my essence in a delightful mixture .

Just as I’m enjoying this kiss, he takes my wrists in one link of his thumb and forefinger and spins me around over the back of the little greenhouse bench. My hands are pinned behind my back, and I’m facing the outside world .

Part of me even wishes that Caitlyn and Miriam could see this. A big fuck-you to two women who’ve delighted in fucking up my life as of late. Logan’s grip on my shoulders pushes me down, and my head comes to rest on the bench. I slip my arms around the backrest and hold on for dear life. He’s fucked me hard before, so I can handle it again if need be .

“I’m sorry for being difficult,” I say, though I know part of me is just roleplaying. I’ve always loved the idea of being punished for being a bad girl, but that’s a whole chapter in sexual psychology just waiting to be written right there .

“Oh?” Logan purrs. “You think this is punishment?” He slaps my ass cheek hard until it stings, and I cry out. Then he rubs it down, soothing the redness and kissing my stinging skin with his warm lips. The length of his hard cock pushes up against my pussy. I tremble with every second he makes me wait. “This is reward, babe. For coming back to me. For forgiving me .”

I feel the fat, thick head of his massive cock pushing against my pussy, and he slides in just a bit. I moan, because I want so much more, he’s killing me over here. I moan, because he’s big and he knows it, and I secretly love it though I know it inflates his ego. Holding onto my hips, I bite my lip and know I’m about to get it .

And then he plows in all the way. I cry out loud again, as he pulls out slowly, waiting…for my moans to soften, for my body to loosen up before driving into me again. He pulls on my hair, dragging my face back so he can breathe by my ear, reminding me how very primal this act can be. With each thrust into me, his balls slap against me, which only makes me wetter .

When I feel his warm, big hands curl over my shoulder, I know I’m about to get it good. His other hand wraps around my hip and two fingers flatten up against my clit. He’s creating pressure in this position, prolonging the fullness inside of me. “I love this, Paisley. I love how you feel around me, and I love being inside you .”

Before I can reply, he drives hard into me, plowing his cock deep. Yes. I need this. Need it so badly. For two weeks, I haven’t stopped thinking about him. For two weeks, I haven’t touched myself because nobody can touch me like he can, and I didn’t want to remind myself of what I didn’t have anymore .

“I love it,” I think I say. I’m not sure, because my brain doesn’t work right at the moment. At least not for things like words, but I’m sure the next thing that comes out of my mouth involves telling him I love him. Is it true? What else could explain why I would come back to him? Why I even care about him ?

All this, plus he brings out the pure lust and need in me, and that’s so important, because for so long, I thought I wasn’t a full woman. I went so long without sex all through high school (because I was a good girl) to college (because sex was so pathetic). I thought that’s how it was meant to be. Logan has shown me what trust can do, what two people can achieve together .

The more he drives into me, dare I say makes love to me, he grunts, knifing hard into me, my brain shattering into a million pieces. I want to come again, and I want to come all over him, and have him spill his seed deep into me. With each thrust, our bodies move in unison, a perfect rhythm rising toward that crescendo .

Right when I reach back to grab his ass and push him deeper into me, he moans loudly, filling my ear, filling this beautiful green space, filling my life, holding himself still as he does. Words tumble from his lips, but I can’t make them out, because we’re in this fog together, and the words don’t matter, but they’re something about love and being his woman and never letting go. Hearing this man who’s always been so much a control freak letting go and telling me beautiful things, worshiping my body in such a way, and feeling the hardness of his body in contrast to mine makes me come again .

His fingers slide in and pat my clit to coax it out further, to elongate the pure joy of this lust until we can’t stand any more. Logan lowers himself, lifts me and carries my tired ass back to my bed where he plops me down and lands next to me. The whole bed bounces and I laugh out loud. When he looks over at me, he has this great big smile on his face. Which is so amazing. I’ve never seen him this happy. I’ve never seen that smile quite so big. I mean, I’ve seen his public smile in social media, but I’ve never seen this relaxed happiness pouring from his soul .

Is that because of me ?

Seriously?

“You’re amazing,” he says, fingertip brushing my cheek .

“No, you are.” I smile .

“No, you are.” He laughs, bear-hugs the crap out of me, and reels me in. My God, it’s like being hugged by the Hulk. And guess what? I can live with that. “Why are you smiling so much, Miss Carrington? Because I just fucked you in plain view of New York City ?”

“Because you haven’t stopped smiling since I came back .”

“Ah, well, that’s true. That’s what you do to me. Not something I’m used to .”

“You never smiled when you were married?” I ask, hoping the question isn’t a downer. I’ve never asked him personal questions about his marriage, but if I’m going to be living here and he’s begged me to come back, there’s nothing wrong with this type of closeness .

The glow in his face dies down a bit but he still smiles, only sadly now. He takes my hand and traces the lines all over it. “Babe, my ex used me like a two-bit whore .”

“Don’t say that, Logan .”

“It’s true. She used me like a butter knife during Sunday morning breakfast .”

I laugh. Where is this side of him coming from? The jokes, the smiles. I love it. “Everyone thinks she’s a saint and you’re the bad guy,” I say .

“I won’t say I’m perfect, because I’m not.” He slaps his chest, and his fingers drum along making a hollow, tapping sound. “But she’s no angel. It was clear to me soon after we married that she’d only done it to get pregnant, divorce me, and get money .”

“That’s incredibly sad .”

“It is .”

I think about those poor children. Did they really not come into this world out of love? Because that makes me so sad for them. Suddenly, I wish they were here so I could run up to them and give them big hugs. “That must’ve really hurt,” I tell him .

“Not just that. It made me jaded, distrustful, and I’m sure you could tell. So when you came here and started working, it was hard for me to process my attraction for you. I equated chemistry of any kind as a bad situation to be in, because look where it led me .”

“Right. I get it.” And I do. When he started to like me, it worried him that he’d be hurt again. “But I’m not Miriam,” I tell him. Not that I plan on marrying him and having his babies, but I want him to know that he can trust me. “With me, what you see is what you get .”

“You think,” he says, turning to me. “And I appreciate that. But Paisley, something I really like about you is that you don’t know how much more you are than what you’re showing. Damn, woman, you’re hardworking, you’re awesome with the kids, you’re gorgeous and you’re ambitious. On top of everything, you’re sexy as fuck. I had no idea about all of that when I hired you .”

“So you didn’t accidentally point to my picture when you meant to point to Caitlyn’s?” I laugh .

He pulls me in and takes my chin in his fingers. “Look at me. Miss Summers is attractive, I’m not going to lie, but she’s also conventional and desperate. Whereas you are the genuine article. She’s just a cheapo knockoff. You demand that I take you seriously. That’s what’s beautiful to me about you, babe. Got it ?”

“Got it.” I smile and he kisses me gently. It’s the first time we’ve ever had a conversation this long in bed where he’s not falling asleep and I’m not staring at the ceiling wondering what the hell is going on with my life. “I’m sorry if I haven’t recognized the good things about me,” I say, staring at his full lips and the dark shadow of stubble growing across his jawline. “It’s just that I’ve felt so betrayed by so many people in my life—my best friend, my roommate, even my dad …”

“I know. That one really pissed me off. That’s why I asked what kind of a man was he. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but I would never do that to my daughter. I know where my loyalties lie .”

And that’s just it. Logan has never given me any reason to believe he’s not loyal. On the contrary, he keeps his eyes to himself, doesn’t ogle women (from what I’ve seen), was faithful to Miriam until she declared she wanted a divorce, and even these last few weeks…even Caitlyn’s physical charms weren’t enough to sway him .

“You’re a good man, Logan.” I mean it. I feel terrible that I judged him on the first day and called him the evil one in the relationship. “I’m so glad I met you. And, just so we’re clear, I don’t just mean for my job.” I giggle and shake my head .

“Yeah, yeah, you’re just sleeping with me to keep yourself employed .”

“Sir, I could leave here anytime I want and be fine with my bank account.” I turn to him and look him in the eyes. “I came back because of you. Because you asked me to. Because I missed us. And I missed Thing 1 and Thing 2 also .”

“Yeah,” he says. “They’re pretty stinkin’ cute .”

“They are. Just like their daddy.” I kiss him and smile when he pulls away and snuggles into my neck, breathing softly and falling into a quiet doze. How did we get here? Just yesterday I thought my love life was over, and then came Logan all the way to my front door to bring me back. Because he missed me, he claimed. Because he needed me. I’m not in the habit of not giving people the benefit of the doubt, but I just find it so hard to believe that he would need me for anything .

But maybe it’s time I start believing. Just because he has money doesn’t mean he has it all. And I can see how women might have acted stupid and desperate around him in the past. Money makes people show their true colors, makes those with money mistrust others’ motives. But I never cared about money beyond what I need to survive and grow a business. It’s Logan’s heart I’m interested in .

Whoa. Where did that thought come from? And why don’t I care one bit ?

Yeah, I think I’ll admit it now. What hurt more than anything about leaving two weeks ago was thinking I’d never have the chance to change his heart .