I dreamed of Logan that night, explicit dreams of his big hands on my body, how they would cover my breasts, how they might feel between my legs. I woke up so turned on it was almost painful, especially since I refused to consciously fantasize about him. I had chided myself for accepting his invitation to go skiing and spend the day with him—in the back of my mind, I knew it was a bad idea, but being around him made me forget about work and enjoy the moment. I tried not to make a big deal out of it as I went downstairs and waited for him in the large, luxurious lobby.

He smiled when he saw me.

“Hi,” he said. “Are you hungry?”

I nodded and followed him outside, across the patio and into the warm, small diner on the retreat campus. It was the perfect place to go for warmth, for rich, creamy hot cocoa and fresh home-style food. We crossed the restaurant and I was surprised when we passed through the dining room and then into the kitchen.

“Where are we going?” I asked him. He didn’t answer, but led me up a wooden staircase and into a room on the second floor. It was quiet in there, with a small table set in the middle, a fire burning in the fireplace. The warmth caressed my skin as I looked around before my eyes settled on him.

“You don’t have to woo me in private, you know,” I said.

He grinned at me. “Just trying to be thorough,” he said to me.

We sat down at the table, where there was food already waiting for us to serve ourselves. Everything looked delicious, and I ate eagerly as I sat across from him.

“Do you ski a lot?” I asked him.

“I don’t take the time,” he said. “Not very often. But I do love to do it.”

“And you chided me for working hard,” I teased him.

“This is my job. You’re at a resort. You should be enjoying yourself, getting your whole body rubbed down with oil.”

“That does sound nice,” I said, squirming where I sat. All I could picture was his hands on my body, slicking me up, touching the most intimate parts of me.

“Does it?” he asked, looking at my face. “Is it something you’d be willing to do?”

“I’m not really comfortable being touched all over the place,” I said.

“That’s such a shame,” he said. “I’m sure you could find someone here who might put you at ease with your clothes off.”

“Maybe,” I said, staring into his eyes, a small smile on my lips. I glanced at his mouth, at the shape of it, and wondered what it tasted like.

“I want you to make me a promise,” he said.

I raised my eyebrows. “What’s that?”

“I want you to promise me you won’t think about work today,” he said. I had to smile at him. There was something about him that was so playful and light, so easy to fall into.

“I’m not sure I can do that,” I told him, though the truth was that I hadn’t thought about work once since we’d sat down to eat. “You’ll have to keep my mind occupied.”

“I think I can do that,” he said. “Tell me, what do you do when you’re not working?”

“Not much,” I told him. “I read, stay in the house. I’m not great with people.”

“I’d say you’re wonderful with people, Lily. You’re just shy.”

“It usually takes me a while to get comfortable with people,” I said.

“You seem pretty comfortable right now.”

I looked down at myself, realizing that he was right. I was relaxed in my chair, and I realized I had a smile on my face as I looked at him.

“This is a beautiful room,” I said, looking around. His eyes were on me when I looked back at him, and there was a warmth in them I recognized as desire. His face was handsome in the light of the fire, and I had to stare for a moment, drinking him in.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked.

I nodded, then stood up. We left the restaurant and got ready to climb to the ski-lift, bundling up and making the slight march uphill together. I was nervous as we climbed—the ski-lift had never been my favorite part of the trip and had always made me nervous.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like the ski-lift,” I told him, looking up at the dangling chairs.

“Do you want me to hold your hand?” he asked. I looked up at his face and there was a sincere look there, nothing lecherous, no bad intentions. I felt my heart flutter in my stomach when he said the words.

“Okay,” I said as we climbed onto the ride. We sat down as the chair pulled up and he held his hand out for me to take. It was massive, fully encompassing my own, but his touch was comforting as we made our way up the mountain. My heart still raced the higher we climbed, but I found myself looking at Logan instead of the drop below us, and I felt a little calmer than I normally did on the ride.

“Thank you for holding my hand,” I said. He cupped it between both of his and I could feel the warmth of his touch through my glove. It seemed like no time at all passed before we got to the top of the mountain. It was steep, but not too steep, just right for me to get back into practice. We got into our equipment and started walking through the snow to the peak.

My foot hit a branch and twisted, knocking my feet out from underneath me. I let out a cry as I started to fall, tumbling down in the snow. I heard Logan shout my name as I whipped down the mountain, eventually crashing so hard against a giant pine that it knocked the wind out of me. I struggled to catch my breath as Logan sailed easily across the snow in my direction, pulling himself up short and kneeling on the ground beside me. There was concern etched all over his face as I blinked at him. I’d hit my head pretty hard on a rock on the way down and I felt almost dazed as I sat there.

“Are you okay, Lily?” he asked, looking over my body. His eyes landed on my leg and they widened. I looked down to see what he was staring at and saw that my leg below the knee was covered in blood. I felt myself go pale as I looked at it.

“How did you fall?” he asked.

“I tripped on a branch,” I said, humiliated. He didn’t look annoyed. He looked down at my leg again, peeling back the strips of my pants that had been shredded on the way down. He opened the fabric to reveal a cut down my leg that was about six inches, jagged and gaping, bleeding hard.

“Shit,” he said, and stripped out of his jacket.

“Don’t do that,” I protested, but watched as he seemed to easily tear a strip of fabric off the thick garment, ripping the sleeve off as if it was nothing. He wrapped it around my leg, his fingers brushing the skin there. I didn’t feel pain from the cut, but I could feel the touch of his skin, how tender it was on my wound. He looked up at my face, frowning when he noticed my expression.

“Did you hit your head?” he asked in an urgent voice.

“Yes,” I said.

He took a deep breath. “I’m going to carry you back up to the lift,” he said. “I want you to wrap your arms around my neck.”

“You can’t carry me by yourself halfway up a mountain, Logan,” I said dryly. He shook his head at me, then lifted me into his arms as if I was light as a feather.

“Hold onto me,” he commanded in a gruff voice, and suddenly all I could pay attention to was how close our faces were, how I could feel his breath on my skin. I looked at his lips, at his eyes, meeting them as he wrapped his arms around me. He held me tight, cradling me as he started slowly climbing upward, using only his legs to propel him uphill. I was amazed at his strength—he didn’t seem to be struggling at all, but carried me all the way up to the lift. He helped me onto the bench and took my hand again, looking in concern at my face.

“You look pale,” he said, putting his hand to my cheek. I turned my face against his palm, brushing it with my lips. The fall made me feel a little loopy for some reason, and I found that the part of me that was fighting against my attraction to Logan was losing as we made our way back to the lodge. Logan stroked my lips with his thumb, holding my eye before he leaned in and brushed his lips over mine.

“Why do I need to kiss you so badly?” he asked. “I just met you but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

I took his mouth in a kiss, sucking gently on his bottom lip. He kissed me back, holding my face close to his and he tasted both of my lips, slipping his tongue into my mouth to tease mine. I felt hungry for him as we kissed, leaning close to him, as close as we could get on the bench. We were so distracted, caught up in each other that we almost missed the landing, until the attendant cleared his throat to indicate we needed to get off. Logan picked me up into his arms again and carried me down the hill toward the lodge.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked him, staring at his face, marveling at how gorgeous he was.

“There’s a doctor on-site,” he said. “I’m taking you there. You might need stitches.”

“Okay,” I said. “Will you stay with me?”

He nodded, carrying me through the building. People looked at us as we passed but I barely noticed them. I felt my eyes fluttering shut as he carried me, feeling warm and comfortable cradled in his arms. He pushed through a door and into a white room, walking over to a desk where a pleasant-looking woman was sitting.

“Hello, Mr. Mitchells,” she said brightly, then her eyes landed on me. “What happened?”

“Bad fall,” he said. “Is Dr. Palo in?”

“Yes,” the woman said, leading us quickly into a back room. Inside was a very old man, almost hunchback in his age. He peered at me as Logan put me onto the examination table, untying the fabric from my leg. It was still bleeding, and it started leaking onto the table as soon as he untied it. The doctor rushed to press a towel to it.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I fell on the mountain,” I said, embarrassed even to say the words. I looked over at Logan, but if he thought it was embarrassing, he only looked concerned.

“She hit her head.”

The doctor frowned, looking intently at me. “Where?”

I put my hand on the area, wincing when I touched the tender spot there. It had already risen into a large lump, and just the feel of it made my head spin. He looked at it closely, clicking his tongue.

“You probably have a concussion,” he said. “You’re going to have to stay awake for the next few hours.”

I frowned at him, blinking sleepily. “I can’t—”

“I’ll help,” Logan said. “I’ll keep you up.”

I smiled at him and he winked at me, making me blush in front of the doctor.

“And this leg is going to need stitches,” the doctor said. He pulled a small rolling table over and picked up a pair of scissors, proceeding to cut my pant leg off and toss it to the side. Logan untied my boot, pulling it off, stroking my ankles with his fingers as he did so. The feeling made me squirm for some reason, as I was pretty sure that any of his touches would. I stared at him even as the doctor cleaned and prepared my leg.

“This is going to be painful,” said the doctor. I nodded and instinctively reached for Logan’s hand, squeezing it as the doctor started to stitch my wound. I winced at first, closing my eyes as the needle went in and out until the pain became so repetitive that it dulled a little, easing as it went. When the stitches were finished, he bandaged my leg.

“Stay off that leg for a couple of days,” he said. “Just to be safe. It should be fine. Don’t get it wet.”

“Okay,” I said. I got up then but wobbled when I tried to walk. Logan scooped me back into his arms, which were beginning to feel like a natural habitat for me. I held onto him as he carried me through the retreat and back to my room, where the word had been scrubbed off my door. I was grateful—I’d wanted to go to Michael immediately and tell him off, but I knew that should be my very last option. I had to stay in his good graces for as long as I could if I wanted to move up in the firm, and if I could avoid pissing him off in any way, I knew that I had to try.

Logan laid me down on my bed, sitting me up so I was propped against the pillows, the blanket pulled up to my chest.

“How are you going to keep me awake?” I asked.

He stared at me, his eyes on mine. “Nothing too strenuous,” he said in a silky voice, one that was so much different from Michael’s attempt at being sexy. There was a tone in it, a hint of suggestion that was subtle and yet lit my entire body up in a warm glow. “Something nice and easy for you.”

I rubbed my legs together under the blanket, my breathing speeding up. “What do you have in mind?”

“I think you should let me eat your little pussy,” he said.

My breath caught in my chest.

“Oh,” I said, swallowing hard. He took a few steps toward me, then knelt down beside the bed.

“Would you let me do that, Lily? Can I taste your pussy?”

“We—we just met,” I said, but I found myself watching as he peeled the blanket back from my bare legs and parted them with his hands, cupping my knees with his fingers in a way that sent electric sparks through my body.

“And yet you’ve been thinking about it all day,” he said.

He climbed onto the bed, holding my thighs apart as he took my mouth in a rough, hungry kiss. He lowered his face, kissing my jaw, my neck, nuzzling between my breasts on his way down my body. I felt his breath on my pussy as he kissed my thighs, kissed the spot just above my clit, his lips brushing the tender, swollen bud. He was right—I’d been needy with desire for him all day, thinking about his hands on me the entire time we’d been together.

“So pretty,” he said as he spread my thighs even wider, completely exposing me. I knew my pussy was leaking onto the bed, wetter than I’d ever been before. Something about his big body between my legs drove me crazy, and I found myself wondering what his cock was like, how good it would feel stretching me out. He started to lap at my pussy then, licking it from bottom to top in a long, slow stroke. His tongue traced my clit but didn’t linger there, instead dipping inside of my pussy and spreading the moisture all around my folds.

“You know I’m going to have to do this all night, right?” he said, sucking on my clit then, flicking it with his tongue. “Which means I can’t make you come for a long time.”

“What?” I asked as I squirmed. He chuckled, his mouth vibrating against my pussy as he started to lick it eagerly.

“I can’t make you come too much or you’ll get sleepy on me,” he said. “I’m sorry, baby, that’s just the way it is.”

I whimpered, unable to respond with words as he stopped licking my clit and started licking at the outer lips of my pussy, teasing me, occasionally brushing the sensitive spot with the tip of his tongue.

“I didn’t agree to this,” I breathed.

He wrapped my legs over his shoulders and continued to taste me, his mouth sucking at my folds while I moved breathlessly underneath him. He didn’t let up even as I started to buck against his face, panting and whimpering, the cord inside of me growing tighter and tighter, threatening to snap. He pulled his mouth away from me then and kissed my thighs again, down to my knee and then back up again. His hands traveled to my breasts and cupped them through the thin fabric of my nightgown. My nipples were hard and sensitive, and the need in my pussy increased as he started to stroke them with his thumbs.

“You like that?” he asked. “You want me to suck on your nipples?”

“I—I…” I couldn’t answer him, but blushed deeply.

He took that as a response and reached for my shoulders, pulling my robe down to reveal my bare breasts. They were average-sized, but seemed small compared to his hands, which encompassed them entirely as he caressed them with his palms. He moved his face upward and took one of my nipples between his lips, circling his tongue around the hard bead, tasting it eagerly. I closed my eyes as he sucked on it more firmly, his fingers teasing my pussy by barely brushing over it.

“You can’t make me wait all night,” I whimpered to him.

He started to stroke my clit with his finger as he switched to the other breast, making my legs spread even wider for him. I was breathing heavily, feeling desperate and starving for him as his fingers straddled my clit and rubbed up and down either side of it. It was exactly the way I liked to touch myself, like he already knew what felt best. He knew he’d found the right spot the moment he started stroking me there, and he smiled with my breast in his mouth as he started to rub it with deliberate strokes.

I groaned in frustration when he pulled his hand away.

“You feeling sleepy?” he asked.

“No.”

I had no idea how he was affecting me like this. I never lost it this way for men—they were attractive to me, sure, but from a distance. Logan was anything but distant from me in that moment; we were totally connected, our eyes locked together as he lifted his face to watch me whilst he dipped a finger inside of my pussy. Even one felt big as he started to curl it inside of me, and when another one joined it, my breath caught in my throat.

“How’s that?” he asked as he started to slide them in and out for me. “That too much for you, baby?”

“No,” I said softly, biting my lip as I ground against his hand.

He crawled back down my body and continued to finger me while he wrapped his lips around my clit, sucking on it gently. I put my hands on his head, ran them through his hair, holding him close as he continued to devour me.

“You better not fucking stop,” I breathed, filled with desperate need. I never cursed, never let myself get out of control, but at this moment I didn’t know what I would do if he pulled back. I was on the verge of crying out with desperation already. Everything about the way he touched me felt good, from the way his fingers stroked the inside of my pussy to the way his tongue traced my clit.

He grinned against my pussy as I started to come.

“God, thank you,” I moaned as I shuddered around him, my hips bouncing against his face. He chuckled and licked me in long strokes until my orgasm was finished, but didn’t stop there. He continued for what seemed like hours and probably was—I didn’t know how much time passed as he licked me, holding my legs spread apart, making sure I didn’t fall asleep. I was half-there, in a haze of pleasure that just seemed to go on and on. I couldn’t even open my eyes by the time he was finished, yet I pouted when he pulled his mouth away.

“What are you doing?” I asked him. I still wanted more. I never wanted it to stop. He laughed and kissed me.

“I think you can go to sleep now,” he said softly.

“I’m not tired,” I protested through heavy lids, taking his mouth in another kiss, trying to coax him into touching me. He grinned and pulled away, kissing my forehead.

“Go to sleep, Lily,” he said softly. “I’ll come find you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I said, wishing that he would stay but knowing it wasn’t a good idea to invite him. He kissed me one last time, saying goodnight before he disappeared. I was left lying in bed, though I didn’t fall asleep as soon as I thought I would. I thought about Logan again and blushed when I thought about how the night had gone. I’d just met him, yet I’d given myself to him without hesitation, spreading my legs as if it was something I did all the time. I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed when I thought about it and the idea came to me that it was probably the reason he’d left afterward—I knew men, how easily they could be turned off, and I hadn’t even tried to be mysterious or hold out the first time he asked to touch me. I was probably too easy for him, and now he regretted having done it at all.

I fell asleep in a bleak mood, despite the fact that my body felt incredible after the pleasure he’d given me.