Logan

Every time I was away from Darcy, when I saw her again, it hit me in my chest like a sucker punch how beautiful she was.

“You have freckles across your nose. More than before. How come?” I asked as I took her hand to help her out of the helicopter and onto the grounds of the hotel. I’d spent the weekend her brother was over thinking about her and the alarm bells and decided to ignore them the best I could and try and take one step at a time.

“They only come out in the summer. I used to try and cover them up but—”

“You shouldn’t. They make you even more beautiful.”

“Logan…” she said, as if she was confused.

“What?”

“You can’t say that stuff to me,” she replied, shaking her head.

We made our way across the lawns toward the hotel. “Why? It’s true.” I hadn’t wanted to put a label on what we were to each other, and Ryder’s warning to me, and Darcy saying she knew she could count on me had freaked me out. But when it was just the two of us, I could feel myself falling for this amazing woman. The more time I spent with her, the more I wanted with her. The more I got to know her, the more I respected her…and wanted her to respect me.

“Have you been to this place before?” she asked, not-so-subtly changing the subject.

“No, actually, but I’ve always wanted to. My ancestors used to own the place.”

“This was your ancestral home?”

“Our Scottish one. My father lost it in a game of poker before I was born.”

“Wow. You didn’t want to bring your grandmother?”

“I don’t think she’s got any interest in reliving history. But I’ve never seen it before, and sometimes it’s good to remember the mistakes of the past.” I’d been curious about this place for a while, and coming here with Darcy seemed like the right thing to do. She loved the countryside and you couldn’t get more rural in Britain than the highlands of Scotland.

“Is it odd for you?” She slid her free hand up my arm, instinctively comforting me. Outside of my grandmother, I didn’t know anyone who cared about my happiness.

“No. I mean, it’s beautiful,” I said, staring up at the dove-gray stone set against the bright-blue sky. “But I don’t have any memories of growing up here.”

“I’m surprised we’re here. I always assume men will choose denial over anything else.”

“Denial?”

“Yes, or compartmentalize. Men seem to be able to just pull down the shutter and move on to the next thing when they face disappointment. Ryder is the best at that. I’ve always envied him for it.”

“I can do that when the need arises.” I placed a kiss on the top of her head. “I want this weekend to be fun, though, and not all about my family’s past.”

“Fun?” She stopped stock-still and held my upper arms. “But you’re Logan Steele—you don’t have fun.”

I rolled my eyes and hoisted her over my shoulder, like I had to get her into the helicopter during the “kidnapping.”

Just like the first time, she squealed and squirmed, trying to break free, but I held her tight and marched toward the entrance to the hotel.

“Logan, you’re in big trouble,” she said.

“Lighten up and have some fun, Darcy,” I replied setting her down on the slate-slabbed floor. “Anyone would think you don’t know how.”

“Mr. Steele,” the receptionist said, interrupting our faux fight. “We have your suite ready for you. It’s a beautiful room—the last earl had it as his bedroom suite.”

Darcy squeezed my hand and pressed a kiss to my upper arm.

“Thank you,” I replied.

“Is this weird?” Darcy asked as we climbed the stairs. “We could ask for a change of room.”

“No, it’s not weird. It’s probably bullshit anyway. And it’s likely to be the nicest room.”

“I don’t care about having the nicest room—I’m here to spend time with you.”

“But I care about you having the nicest room.” I’d never taken a woman away before, never shared stuff about my family. I wanted Darcy to enjoy herself, but it was good to remember that Darcy didn’t care about the trappings.

“When did you get so cute?”

“Cute?”

She shrugged as we got to the top of the stairs. “Yeah. Cute.”

I shook my head. “Oh no, Miss Westbury. Now I’m going to have to prove how very not cute I am.”

A blush spread across her cheeks. “I’ve been counting on it,” she whispered as I unlocked the bedroom door.

Somehow, our bags had made it up here before we had, so there was no reason for us to be interrupted. “Put the do not disturb sign on the door,” I said, my cock hardening at the thought of her bent over the four-poster bed in the middle of the room.

I stood between the big bay window and the end of the bed, looking out onto the manicured lawns. Without asking, once she had closed and locked the door, she came over and began unbuttoning my shirt.

She pressed her lips against my skin as it was revealed. Such an intimate and welcome addition to what was now a pre-sex routine. She moved quickly, her fingers so used to my shape and movements that I couldn’t tell where I ended and she began. Things were so perfect between us that sometimes it was difficult to remember a time before we were together. A time when I had to direct her more. When I was naked, she stripped down to her underwear and stood before me, coyly awaiting further instruction.

For the first time, I understood the appeal of monogamy. Why would I want anyone else when I could have Darcy?

I circled my arms around her, just wanting to hold her close for a few moments.

She pressed her cheek to my chest and relaxed against me, our bodies molding together. She sighed, and nuzzled closer. God, I loved when she was feisty and clever, but soft and vulnerable Darcy nearly ended me each time I saw her.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” she whispered.

“Don’t say I’m cute,” I warned.

She giggled, the sound reverberating in my rib cage.

I slapped my palm against her ass. “Turn around and hold on.” I tipped my head toward one of the four wooden posts of the bed.

She bent forward, giving me a fantastic view of her bottom and I followed her, standing close, my thighs brushing against hers as I dug my hand into the front of her underwear. She shivered against me. “Hold tight,” I said. “We’re just getting started…and you’re already so wet.”

Hooking my thumbs into the sides of her knickers, I pulled them down, allowing me free access to her pussy. She needed to come, fast, then I could take my time, finding new ways to pull pleasure from her incredible body.

“I’m always like that when I’m with you,” she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“And it’s all for me. You hear me?” I hated the idea of another man touching her. It had never occurred to me with other women I’d been with, but I hated the thought of any man seeing Darcy how I saw her, having the privilege of fucking her or making her come.

“Yes,” she panted. “Just for you.”

I rolled a condom on my straining cock and pushed into her. She gasped, one hand flying behind her as if determined to stop me from going any further.

“Too much?”

“I don’t know if I can keep quiet. It’s too good.” She tried to catch the breath I’d chased from her.

“So don’t,” I said, pulling out and thrusting in harder this time.

She let out a muffled moan. “Logan,” she said. “Everyone will hear.”

“Yes,” I said, beginning my rhythm, racing after her orgasm. “Anyone passing our door will hear me fucking you, will hear how good it is—they’ll know what I can do to you. How crazy it makes you.”

Her groans came regularly, echoing around the room. There was no holding back. Why she thought she could, I’d never understand. It wasn’t who we were when we were together. We were open and honest and completely ourselves—it didn’t matter if we were talking or fucking or toasting marshmallows.

Desire for her intensified with each thrust, and the effort it took to hold myself back created a sheen of sweat over my skin. I grunted and reached around for her engorged and throbbing clit.

“Logan,” she screamed and with just a gentle stroke, her legs began to shake and her body arched. The thought that I had such power over her set my orgasm free, and I covered her back with my front and pushed into her, unable to stop, wanting to be as close to her as I possibly could be.

Panting and breathless, I guided her to the bed and pulled her into my arms. “Sometimes I worry I like you too much,” she said, her tiny voice aimed toward my chest.

“Don’t worry about that.” I understood what she meant. I’d wondered what it meant and where it would lead, but I had to push it to the back of my mind or those alarm bells got too loud. “I think we just stay in the here and now. Just the two of us.”

Her rib cage rose and fell, her breasts expanding against my chest and causing my cock to twitch. I’d have to have her again soon.

“Here and now?”

“Yeah,” I said, tipping her onto her back, rolling on a condom and positioning myself between her legs, my dick laying gently against her wet pussy.

“I think I need more than that. What are we aiming for?” she asked. “How do you feel?”

Her questions were getting more difficult and would require me to think about things that I wasn’t used to considering. I’d been waiting, almost daring my feelings for Darcy to fade or disappear, but instead with every moment I spent with her, they strengthened, pulling me into a place I’d never been before.

She wanted to know who we were to each other, if this would last forever, if I loved her. “I don’t know,” I whispered in response to all of them. It was the only answer I had, but it was an honest one. I had no idea of how to navigate a relationship, no skills at having anyone other than my grandmother counting on me.

I plunged into her slowly, getting as deep as I could, relishing the pressure of her around my erection, the way her eyes watered, and her mouth opened as if she were readying herself for her sounds that would rip, unconstrained, from her throat.

She exhaled as I withdrew and slid her hands up over her head, readying herself for more. I kissed her collarbone in a thank you. We didn’t need to ask each other anymore, we knew what the other liked, responded to, what would make each other wild. And in that moment, one thing became obvious.

She was everything to me. I wanted this to last forever.

Was that love?

I couldn’t take my eyes off her as our bodies moved together. A low hum dragged across my skin—half my pleasure, half hers. She fascinated me. Everything about her was interesting, and I wanted to know more every time I found out something new. Like how long into the autumn would her freckles last? Why had she never had her ears pierced? Had she ever been in love before?

I grabbed one of her hands in mine. This wasn’t just fucking anymore. What we had together was so much more than that. Emotion coated every physical move we made. I dipped my head and kissed her, our tongues melting together, through our pants, groans and declarations of pleasure.

Her body tightened underneath me and I could tell she was just seconds away from coming. I wanted to share it with her. I tightened my fingers in hers, deepened our kiss and pushed in, in urgent, desperate strokes. Fuck, she felt too good.

“Logan,” she cried, her orgasm washing over her as mine unraveled, shooting up my spine and spilling out of every pore.

“Fuck,” I spat and collapsed on top of her. Her fingers stroked delicately up my back as we descended from the airless atmosphere we’d travelled to.

“Logan,” she whispered again. “I love you.”

The words boomed in my ears. She didn’t have to say it. I felt it in every look, every touch. But she had said it. And the alarm bells rang through my thoughts.

I rolled off her and pulled her into the crook of my arm, wanting to keep her wrapped up in me until it was dark and hunger made us move.

“I need you to be patient with me.” I’d never believed in love. Not really. Not for me anyway. The idea of it was always too ephemeral for me to take seriously.

I was always so focused on the goals I could measure, on the things I could see. The deals, balance sheets and profit margins. Love had never been a focus. Deliberately so.

I’d mapped my life out years before and I’d stuck to my path ruthlessly and without compromise. My plan hadn’t included love or a family—anyone or anything that I could let down or disappoint I’d erased as a possibility.

My father had let his heart rule his head at every turn, which had caused everyone in my family pain. I’d spent my life trying to be everything he wasn’t. He’d had a wife and a family—was that what had caused his spiral of decline? Is that what commitment, promises, duty did? I was avoiding being like him at every turn.

And now, faced with Darcy, my plans didn’t seem enough anymore. I wanted more. I wanted her.

“I know,” she said, smoothing her hand across my chest.

She knew me better than to push and demand. More than that, she didn’t want a response on those terms. We weren’t playing quid pro quo—we weren’t playing at all. This was real life, and I couldn’t imagine my world without Darcy in it. I just didn’t know whether abandoning my plans for her was worth the risk.