I parted his lips with my tongue and delved in. The kiss was fierce, hungry, and alive with passion. It was as though everything was right in my world. Our bond, our connection, diminished everything else.

My moans were lurid and uninhibited as I ground myself harder down onto him. He filled me with everything I was seeking. His mouth broke our kiss and lowered down to claim my breast that ached for his caress. A thick, desperate whimper rang out from somewhere deep inside me.

Biting down on his shoulder, I felt the first heavy tear fall. Then another. His sweet lips pressed to the dampness on my cheek. My eyes squeezed shut as I lost myself fully in him. My right hand slid from his neck, covering his on my breast. He closed his fingers around mine.

“Slow…no rush.” He bit back a hard grunt. “Too good—” His lips ensnared mine, kissing me with ferocious tenacity.

I couldn’t slow—couldn’t do anything except lift up, and with each plunge down the remnants of Kurt’s touch were wiped away.

Logan was panting, a thin sheen of sweat covering his strong body. He lifted me up higher, holding me in place, and grabbed his cock in his hand. I wasn’t sure what he was doing until he tucked himself back in his pants, not yet enjoying his release. Neither of us had.

I was still locked around him when he rested his forehead against mine. He’d seen what I’d been avoiding: the endless tears spilling out in a vast wave of vulnerability.

It must’ve had a sobering effect on him. His eyes were soft, and filled with not pity or sympathy, but love.

No longer hard and wanting, Logan cradled me in his arms selflessly and carried me back inside. He didn’t stop until we were in his room. He maneuvered us over the bed, resting down on a pillow with me sprawled across him. My sobs finally broke out of the tomb they’d been locked inside. They came fast and painfully, showing no mercy. He stroked my hair as I trembled and shook.

My sobs grew into heavy cries as I clutched the sheet under us. An ungodly roar sneaked up from somewhere deep in my soul and danced off the walls. Logan didn’t try to silence me, even as I looked back and wondered if Oliver had heard. He allowed me to release it all.

It felt incredible, freeing, and, above all, needed. And Logan was there, holding me the entire time, keeping me safe while my mind replayed the events of the day. Each tear that fell washed it away. It wouldn’t destroy me, and the only mark it would leave was the power I found in overcoming it. I wouldn’t let it control my life.

By the time my body was numb with both physical and emotional exhaustion, Kurt was nothing but a name I never wanted to speak again. It was up to the courts now to handle him.

Logan held me in silence, but I knew he was awake. I wasn’t sure when I fell asleep, but his warmth never ceased to comfort me throughout the night. The hazy memory of him reminding me how perfect I was infiltrated my dreams.

I was safe there with him, and nothing else mattered.

Chapter Five

Misconceptions

I woke from what felt like a winter’s hibernation to the sound of hushed voices. Lying on my stomach, buried in a heap of cozy blankets saturated in Logan’s natural scent, I smiled at the familiar laugh that greeted me.

“Please, Daddy, can we wake her up now?”

The moment of panic happened instantly, my eyes popping wide open. Shit, was I dressed? Oh God!

My hands slid to my sides, running stealthily over the feeling of expensive cotton. I breathed a sigh of relief, ignoring the fact that I had no recollection of dressing. I’d been in his bed for more than 24 hours, and he’d let me sleep the entire time.

“I think she heard us,” Logan said, chuckling.

I rolled over and faced the two handsome faces standing in the doorway, watching me.

“Yay! She’s up!” Oliver stumbled forward with glee and Logan’s hand shot out to his shoulder, stabilizing him.

“Careful,” Logan said.

Oliver walked over with precise steps, slow and determined, careful not to spill the tall glass of orange juice in his hands.

I sat up, smiling. The precious view of his cheerful face first thing in the morning was the perfect start to any day—especially when paired with Logan’s.

“This is for you. I made it all myself,” Oliver boasted, wearing a proud grin and holding the glass out to me.

“I’d like to think I helped a little,” Logan added, with a playful smile aimed at me.

I took the glass carefully and brought it to my lips. As I swallowed, my brows rose. I was impressed.

“Delicious!” I praised. It wasn’t an exaggeration, either—the juice was freshly squeezed and ice cold. I took another drink.

“She likes it!” Oliver looked over to Logan, then back at me. “I do too. I picked the biggest oranges. Aunt Katie says those are the best.”

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so relaxed. His smile was infectious. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” I set the glass down on the bedside table and noticed the clock. It was close to nine. “Ah, I’m sorry. I was exhausted and overslept. You better get going so you’re not late for school.”

“I will. But promise to drink lots of juice, ’kay?”

I giggled at the persistence that rivaled his father’s. “You got it.”

Logan stepped forward just inside the door. “I’m going to drop him off at school, then I’ll be back. You sleep, and if you need anything, I’ll be here.”

“Don’t you have work?”

He shrugged. “I can take a few days.”

I sat up straighter. “Logan, you need to work. I don’t want to be a burden. Plus, we both know I won’t be getting much resting done if you’re close by.”

He cocked a brow, that playful smirk creeping over his enticing lips.

“How come?” Oliver asked suddenly, reminding us we weren’t alone. “You bot’er her, Daddy?”

I bit my lip to stifle a laugh, my cheeks flushing.

“Never. I give you my word: I’m always very nice to her,” Logan told him, eyes still on me. My insides melted at those seductive baby blues.

“Good,” Oliver said, watching me lift the glass and finish the last of the juice. “More?”

I shook my head, sobering as I tore my gaze from Logan’s. “No thanks. We can have a glass together when you get home, though. With some cookies, maybe?”

“I love cookies. But I love them with milk, not juice.” He scrunched his nose.

Makes sense.

“You’re right. Milk is better with cookies.” I smiled, then glanced back over to Logan with a cocked brow. “So you’re going to work then.”

“If you insist. I’m sure I have plenty to do at the office to distract me from the fact that you’re here, in my bed.” His tongue peeked out, wetting not only his bottom lip but my entire sex. “But you best stay in that bed and sleep. You need it.”

His eyes spoke volumes over his words. Yeah yeah. Sleep—got it.

“Yes, sir.” I saluted, and Oliver giggled. My laughter joined his, and I reached out for a hug. He was too adorable to resist. He hugged me back tightly. “You have a fun day at school, and when you get home you can tell me everything you learned. Deal?”

“Deal.” Oliver stepped back, staring at me—or, more accurately, at the small bandages on my face, hesitant to inquire about something clearly on his mind.