“Are you coming to dinner?” Logan asked.
“I really need a few minutes of peace and quiet before the show. I’m sorry I’m not more sociable.” She’d have plenty of time to capture footage of concerts and behind the scenes events like dinner. She wasn’t used to all the people and the constant activity. She was an introvert to the nth degree and could only stand the chaos for so long. She was used to having as much alone time as she liked, and when she wanted human contact, she spent the bulk of her existence with her younger sister.
“So you don’t want to eat with everyone?” Logan asked.
“I’d rather not.”
“Okay.” He turned on his heel and left her standing gaping after him.
Well, that had been strange. Maybe he was just in a hurry. She knew she’d thrown off his tight schedule by being a constant distraction. She should probably feel a bit guiltier about that.
A while later, as she was switching out the memory card in her camera, she heard a loud thud from somewhere inside the bus. She’d expected to be alone until the concert began. Her heart rate kicked up, and she searched for something she could use as a weapon. She attempted to lift a lamp from an end table and found that it was fixed to the surface. Before she could reevaluate her plan, she was assailed by the most delicious smell of garlic. Her stomach growled and her mouth watered at the thought of food.
A moment later, Logan entered the lounge.
“I hope you like braised chicken and steamed asparagus,” he said.
“You brought me dinner?” she asked, half incredulous, half touched by his gesture.
“You said you didn’t want to eat with the others. Plus it will give us a few moments alone together.” He grinned, his blue eyes sparking with mischief.
“So there were ulterior motives involved,” she said, not minding in the least.
“A few,” he admitted.
He touched the side of his hand to her chin and tilted her face upward. He kissed her until her knees went weak and she transformed into an unfamiliar creature of sexual need. Her hands trembled as she lifted them to his shoulders and held on to the only thing solid in her world at that moment. Him.
He tugged his mouth away slowly, his lips clinging to hers. She sighed at the deliciousness that was Logan Schmidt’s kiss.
“I thought maybe we’d share a little tongue action next, but I’m not sure you can handle it.” His teasing chuckle was tender and made her flush with joy.
“We’ll never know unless we try.” Her fingers dug into his shoulder to urge him closer.
“When you’re right, you’re right,” he said and kissed her again. When his tongue caressed her upper lip, a jolt of excitement shook her to her core. Toni concentrated on his technique, so overwhelmed with pleasure and need that she didn’t give as much as she received. She could imagine—almost feel—the tug of his lips and stroke of his tongue against the molten, throbbing flesh between her thighs. His tongue touched hers and she moaned, her clit tingling so distractingly that she rubbed against his leg.
“Easy,” he murmured. “It’s just a kiss.”
Maybe for him it was just a kiss, but for her it was the epitome of sensation.
“It makes me want you to kiss me there,” she whispered, her face warming from either her boldness or her desire or a combination of the two.
“Where do you want me to kiss you?”
“Under my skirt.”
He smiled against her lips. “There’s a lot of territory under that skirt,” he said. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
He was going to make her say it? She took a deep breath. “I want you to kiss my pussy.”
“You want me to kiss it like this?” He kissed and suckled and licked her lips, drawing excited gasps and encouraging moans from deep with her as she imagined him doing the same to her downstairs area.
“Yes.”
“Do you want my tongue inside you? Fucking you?” He traced her lips with his tongue and then invaded her mouth, thrusting in and out in shallow strokes that just teased her tongue.
“Yes. Please.”
“And is this what you want me to do to your clit?” He caught the tip of her tongue with his lips and latched on with a gentle suction as he rapidly flicked his own tongue against the bit of flesh he held trapped in his mouth. Her clit throbbed in time with his motion until she couldn’t stand it any longer and pulled free of his demonstration.
“Yes,” she said firmly, holding his gaze so he’d know she was serious.
“Maybe later.” He released her and approached the dining table. “Let’s eat. Our food’s getting cold.”
“Logan!” She took several steps in his direction.
He glanced up from the foil he was pulling from a small metal pan. “Yes, Toni?”
She crumpled her hands in the hem of her button-down cotton shirt and tugged. She wasn’t used to asking for what she wanted. It made her chest tight and her stomach churn.
“I thought we were going to . . .” She glanced sidelong at the open door to the lounge. “You know.”
“Fuck?”
Her heart produced a hard thud at all that word implied. “Yeah, that.”
“I can’t miss dinner,” he said. “My blood sugar will drop while I’m onstage and I’ll black out. As delicious as your pussy tastes, it doesn’t supply sufficient calories.”
Flooded with concern over his wellbeing, she asked, “Are you diabetic?”
“Nothing that serious,” he said, removing foil from a second pan. “I just expend a lot of energy onstage. Sometimes I overdo it.”
“So you’ve blacked out before?” She moved in close beside him, stifling the urge to cling to him.
He nodded. “A few times. It freaks everyone out. Delays the show. So as much as I want to fuck you right now . . .” He grabbed her hand and pressed it against the hard evidence of his desire. “. . . I need to eat first.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a bother. I just got a little worked up when you kissed me.”
Logan chuckled. “A bother? You’re kidding, right?”
He wrapped a lock of her hair around one finger and tugged. “You are no bother,” he said. “What you are, Miss Nichols, is a distraction.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to be around a bother. I can’t stop thinking about or wanting to be near a distraction. Does that sound like the same thing to you?”