Logan wasn't holding back. One hand threaded into my hair and he tangled my wet tresses around his fingers. The other cupped my breast through my soaked shirt. Everything in my world was lost to necessity. I needed Logan more than anything I could possibly think of.
As if on cue, we both broke apart for a moment, gasping for air like we had both forgotten how to breathe. To be honest, I couldn't remember breathing before our kiss. His lips had stolen all of my brain power, and I was surprised that my heart had managed to beat on its own without my brain supplying the stimulus. I thanked God for autonomic functions.
I stared up into his fathomless brown eyes. Gold swirls and amber highlights pulled me ever deeper into his soul. All that I could see was his warmth and desire. It terrified me because I knew I was reflecting the same things. I wanted him. I had wanted him for the past two years and had almost convinced myself that I didn't.
I thought of bolting. There was too much emotion, too much history, and too much baggage to even be thinking of kissing him again. But I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted to do so much more than just kiss him. Everything about our relationship was wrong. But everything in my body was telling me that this was right. That we were right. That we had always been right, and that I had been doing my damnedest not to see it.
“Logan?” I whispered. The storm and my own heartbeat were the only things I could hear. It felt like the hurricane was still raging around and through me. I loved him and hated him. I wanted this so badly, yet I knew I should run. I was shaking under his hands as I tried desperately to sort out my emotions and come up with a plan. If I had a plan, then I could be rational. I wouldn't get hurt again.
His face was unreadable as he searched mine. I wanted him to push me away and hold me close at the same time. My conflicting emotions and thoughts spun around me like raindrops in the wind. I had hated him for so long. The realization that I actually wanted him instead was still a foreign idea. It wasn't anywhere close to my usually rational self, and that frightened me.
He brushed a strand of wet hair from my cheek. His touch was tender and full of a soft caring that made my heart ache. He had just walked into a hurricane because he cared for me. He wanted me, not just physically, but emotionally too. No one would walk out into a hurricane for just a one-night stand. My throat clenched, afraid of what might come out of his mouth. I tightened my grip on his wet shirt, afraid he would tell me exactly what I wanted to hear.
“Olivia...” It was only one word, but when he said my name, it was the equivalent of a full conversation. It was all the "I'm sorry” that needed to be said. The "it's not your fault," the "I'll fix it," and "I need you." It was everything I wanted to hear him say all wrapped up in my name.
He dipped his head and kissed me again. Pure need overwhelmed the uncertainty and chaos in my mind. I wanted him. I needed to be with him, to have him all for myself. All thoughts of business, history, and reason left and all that remained was my pure desire. I didn't need to be rational. Lust pulsed with a white-hot heat in the middle of my belly. He was the only thing that mattered.
“Yours or mine?” I gasped, pressing my h*ps up against his. I could feel his need matching mine.
Logan glanced down the hallway, mentally calculating the distances between the closest elevators and each of our rooms. “Mine's closer.”
I nodded, and he grabbed my hand. The two of us sprinted toward the secondary elevator doors that let out by his room. The pleasant ding of the elevator greeted us as we rushed in and hit the button for the third floor.
I was kissing him again the instant the metallic doors slid shut. He tasted like rain, and I couldn't get enough. His hands caressed my body, hot against the cold of my rain-soaked clothes. His every movement was wrought with passion, and I lost myself to his grasping, groping fingers.
My leg wrapped around him of its own accord. I wanted him right then and there in the elevator with our bodies, na**d and wet, pressed against the mirrored surface of the elevator's interior. The idea sent heat rushing through me, and I tightened my leg around him. His hands traveled up under my shirt, his palms hot against the damp skin of my ribs.
Someone cleared his throat, startling me out of my reverie. The elevator doors had opened without our knowing it. Two men were staring at us. I recognized them from one of the other travel agencies visiting the resort. The taller of the two cocked an eyebrow at the erotic tableau Logan and I were presenting.
I dropped my leg and scurried out of the elevator, feeling my cheeks reddening in pure embarrassment. Logan was right behind me as we exchanged places with the other guests.
“You two have fun now!” One of the two men called out after us. I didn't have the fortitude to look back and see who it had had been. The heat in my cheeks increased. Logan laughed, though he seemed just as anxious as I was to disappear from their view.
As soon as we were free from their stares, I was back in his arms. The hallway was deserted, which was good, because I couldn't stop kissing him. His kisses grew rougher and more demanding the closer we got to his door. We weaved across the hallway like we were drunk as we made out. He pushed me up against the door to his hotel room, one hand pulling me into him while the other fumbled with his key-card.
I gently tugged on his earlobe with my teeth, arching my h*ps up and into his groin. Logan missed the slot for his key-card by a mile. He cursed softly, his breath tickling the sensitive skin on my neck. I loved that I had that effect on him.
I heard the lock click as he got the key into the slot, and together we tumbled into the room. Logan pushed me up against the wall as the door slammed shut behind us. His strong hands found my wrists and pinned them above my head while his lips found the hollow of my neck and jaw. I whimpered, completely at his mercy.
His tongue skimmed my jawline and up to my ear. “Say it,” he whispered.
I wanted to resist him, but my mouth couldn't find the words to tell him no. Longing pounded and pulsed through every nerve in my body. I could barely breathe for the pure desire choking me.
“I want you,” I gasped. “So much. Too much.”
This wasn't going to give us a happily-ever-after. This was a mistake and the rational part of me knew it, but I didn't care. I could have him again. He could be mine for a night, just this once more. His touch had haunted my dreams for two years and I was finally going to experience it again. The sensible part of my brain gave up trying to fight. The physical energy and connection between us was too strong. Maybe by giving into him, I could finally forget. Maybe this wouldn't live up to the memory I held close to my heart.