by Noelle Adams
As she walked up the wide stone steps, she stood before his doorbell and paused. This was too much to take in all at once.
Suddenly, Logan emerged from an interior hallway. Her pulse kicked up again.
A glass of red wine cradled in one hand, he moved toward the door with confident strides. He wore his striped work shirt untucked, sleeves rolled back on his forearms. Well-fitted jeans clasped muscular thighs and bunched slightly at his feet. Her gaze lingered there.
The intimacy of seeing his bare feet reminded her of the night they spent together. She knew every taut, tanned muscle under his clothes. Her lips tingled, remembering how brazen she’d been, running her tongue down the grooves of his six-pack abs, and later molding her hands around his spectacular biceps that strained as he’d plunged deep inside her.
A hot breath escaped her and clouded in her face. Pulling herself back to cold reality, she blamed pregnancy hormones for the primal pull of attraction that made him irresistible, the ultimate masculine provider. She blushed. We don’t live in the ice age. I don’t need a man to take care of my basic needs. Her body had a different opinion.
Logan swung open his door. His dazzling smile greeted her with potent impact. “Perfect timing.”
Several snarky comments came to mind, but she couldn’t push them past her lips. “For what?”
Then her mind went numb, all attention focused on the warm, delicious scents wafting from inside. Her stomach grumbled loudly in the silence of falling snow.
He tugged her inside. “I promised you dinner. It’ll be ready soon. But first, the tour.”
She sent him a questioning look. “I want you to know the layout of my place so you can go where you want, as you please. I want you to be comfortable here. With me.”
Words escaped her as he set his wine down on the glass-top table in the foyer, unzipped her coat and slid it down her arms. A slow undressing that sent tingles across her shoulders. He hung her coat in the entryway closet, set her purse on the table, picked up his glass and motioned toward the kitchen. “I have a plate of hors d’oeuvres to hold us over. Half-an-hour until the chicken’s done, fifteen minutes for the steaks to broil.”
At the promise of food, she followed at his heels. “Thank you. I’m starved.”
“I thought you might be.” She walked into his gourmet kitchen of glass tile and stainless-steel everything. “Had to make sure it wasn’t caviar or sushi or steak tartare, my usual go-to appetizers. I read that the bacteria in raw food can be dangerous for pregnant women.”
It was? She cringed, realizing how much she didn’t know about being pregnant. Thank goodness one of them had a clue. For the first time, she acknowledged how much easier it was with a partner, someone she could count on, going through this new and exciting and terrifying experience alongside her. A warm rush of gratitude filled her heart. “I appreciate that.”
The appetizer tray on his granite countertop looked like a work of art. Creamy dip nestled in the center of a huge saucer ringed with colorful vegetables and rolled cold-cuts.
“This looks amazing.” Without waiting for an invitation like a polite person, she dove into the delectable tray.
He ran a hand through his hair, leaving him with a rumpled sexy look. “I can’t take credit for that. I picked up the tray from a caterer.”
“Is the dinner that smells so good take-out?”
“Nope.”
“No caterer or personal chef?”
“All me, sunshine.” He grinned. “Believe it or not, a guy gets sick of pizza and chicken wings. That’s when he learns how to make the good stuff.”
“Impressive,” she said around a mouthful of food.
After five solid minutes of stuffing her face, she paused and scrounged up the decency to put back that sixth turkey-and-cream-cheese wheel. “You said something about a tour?”
“This way.” He motioned her to follow him.
The lure of food had blinded her to all else. Hunger sated for the moment, she glanced around the open floor plan, a cavernous space that combined the kitchen, dining room and great room. A giant fireplace of natural stone held the focal point in the great room. Subtle textures and muted colors filled in the gaps to offer a deceptively simple, rustic experience.
“Whoever you hired as your decorator must’ve known you well.” The design resonated with his personality.
“I worked closely with her,” was all he said.
Allison wondered if he’d been romantically involved with the woman. Probably. Only a lover would understand his nuances and preferences. She experienced a sting of jealousy, picturing another woman spending time with him physically, creatively and intimately until she knew every facet of him, well enough to recreate him on the canvass of his home.
“How nice for you,” she muttered.
Nature-inspired abstract paintings hung on walls of taupe and sage green, which complimented the earthy dark-leather furniture. Then there were pops of color, rust and persimmon accents in the artwork and pillows on his u-shaped sofa.
She recognized his scent of ginger-spice and pine permeating the air. Soothing, comforting. Despite the spaciousness, she felt like she’d walked into a hug.
To her amazement the design appealed to masculine and feminine tastes. She liked his home more than she’d expected. First, they scaled the massive curving staircase to the second floor. Unadorned windows looked out onto the wooded landscape, where strategically placed outdoor lighting made the bare branches and winter scene inviting. He showed her the spacious bedrooms, two at one end, two at the other.
As they entered the fourth bedroom and he flipped on the light, a smile lit her face. “My things!”
She recognized the furnishings from her apartment, her desk overlooking the bank of windows, her bookcase against the far wall, pictures of her parents propped on a dresser. He’d taken the liberty of upgrading her bed to a king-sized dream, something out of a magazine, topped with a sage-and-lavender bedspread, anchored by a whimsical iron-scrolled headboard. On the walls hung framed black and white scenes of European cities, Paris, London, Rome, plus a few artistic photos of the French countryside.
“I love it,” she whispered.
“I wanted it to feel like…home.”
It felt more like home than when she’d lived in those places. He’d captured her essence in the tranquil beauty of this room. A lump formed in her throat. “I don’t know what to say.”
A soft silence surrounded them. Comfort enfolded her.
“Tour’s not over.”
He guided her down two flights to the basement. Which could’ve been a 3,000 square-foot house unto itself. A kitchen, two baths and a family room sprawled before her boasting a Cadillac-sized flat screen TV flanked by built-in shelves filled with sports paraphernalia. The other doors led to a full gym—which he obviously used daily—a movie theater with recliners and surround sound, and an industrial room that housed the security equipment and a dozen camera monitors. Not to mention the temperature-controlled wine cellar with hundreds of gleaming bottles, the mood set with pendant lighting and travertine mosaic tiles from Italy.
“In my wildest dreams, I never could’ve envisioned a home like this.” She turned circles viewing the space. “You have everything you could ever want, right here.”
“Almost everything.”
The cryptic words caught her attention. Her gaze shot to him. Before she could read his expression, he turned and headed upstairs. She followed him to the main floor, which boasted a regal yet comfortable sitting room leading out to an enclosed greenhouse, a library, an office, and finally his first floor master suite.
Nervousness slowed her steps and she lingered in the doorway. A high slanted ceiling with exposed rough-hewn beams mirrored the architecture of his A-frame great room. Except the accent wall showcasing his king sleigh bed was a deeper shade of green, and the accent lighting shed an intimate amber glow.
“It’s lovely.” She hesitated then turned to go.
&
nbsp; “Wait. You haven’t seen the best part.” His eyes twinkled. Curiosity overwhelmed her. She carefully treaded across the cream carpet until his master bath sprawled before her.
She’d walked into a spa. Floor-to-ceiling stone tiles were accented by sea-green glass. A glass partition revealed an inviting steam shower with a dozen spray heads to mimic a waterfall. A soaking tub looked out over the backyard. Two floating sinks were mounted into the wall for an ultimate modern effect. To complete the scene, in the corner a fountain gurgled, surrounded by fragrant orchids.
“Good God,” she murmured.
Logan beamed with pride. “Not bad, huh?”
She shook her head, beyond awe. “How much do you charge by the day in this resort?”
“For you?” He rubbed his chin. “I think we can work out a special arrangement.” He winked.
“It could take years to explore every square foot of this place.”
“I hope so.”
Uncomfortable with the weight of his stare, she backed toward the door. “Thanks for the tour.”
“Feel free to explore. Any time.” He strolled out of his bedroom into the hallway. “Nothing’s off limits.”
While the gesture was magnanimous, she sensed a dual meaning his words. Particularly with regard to his bedroom. The notion sent desire spiraling through her abdomen.
He passed her in the hall.
Then suddenly he turned. She bumped into him. He cupped her face and sealed his over to hers. His thumbs brushed her cheeks, his mouth urgent, consuming. Then he slowly lifted his head.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. He laced his fingers through hers and led her to the kitchen.
Tiny ripples of pleasure spread through her. She wanted to tug him back and encourage him to deliver on that promising kiss.
That was until the tantalizing scents of dinner received a standing ovation from her stomach. They could’ve heard the hunger pangs in the next county.
“Still hungry?” he asked with a grin.
Bashful, she shrugged. “Apparently.”
“Good. I want you to enjoy this.”
He could’ve set a plate of liverwurst in front of her and she would’ve inhaled it. Thankfully, he had better options.
The prosciutto-wrapped stuffed chicken breasts and horseradish-encrusted filets that he pulled from the double ovens left her salivating. He added herbed new potatoes and sautéed zucchini to her plate and it looked like heaven.
“Go ahead.” He nodded toward the dining room.
She sat down and stared at her plate like it was the Last Supper. She managed to wait. He entered a minute later with a full glass of wine and a bottle of Pellegrino. He frowned. “I told you to go ahead.”
“I’m the guest. The least I can do is wait for you to sit down, after you’ve created this amazing meal.”
“You’re not a guest.” He set down his wine and poured the sparkling mineral water into her glass. “You need to get used to this.”
“To personal-chef dinners and being waited on hand and foot? Not likely.”
He stared at her beneath the shelf of his brow. “Like I said, get used to it.”
She refused to touch her food until he sat down across from her with his own steaming plate. He exhaled. “Allison, you’re eating for two. I don’t expect you to hold out on my account. I’ve heard about the ravenousness that takes hold when you least expect. You need to obey your body when it tells you you’re hungry.”
“I am so ready to obey.” She grabbed her fork and steak knife and attacked her dinner. As the juices soaked into her tongue, she rolled her eyes and groaned with her mouth full. “God, that’s good.”
He sent her a sly smile. “If you like dinner, wait until the next course.”
“Don’t bother me,” she joked, appreciating the complex tastes he’d created. “I’m busy consuming ecstasy.”
He stared at her through half-lowered lids. “And I just got started.”
While she unapologetically polished off her plate, he took unhurried bites. He watched her intently during dinner, seeming to take as much satisfaction from her response to his food as she did eating it.
Finally, she pushed her plate away with a sigh. “Spectacular.”
“Glad to hear.”
“I can’t remember the last time I appreciated food this much.”
“Finished?”
She nodded. Her head lolled like she’d drunk a bottle of wine. “You are my favorite person in the world right now.”
He set his silverware down and pinned her with a stare. She blinked, swallowed. She knew that look. She should’ve heaped on a pile of excuses for why he should get those thoughts right out of his head. But she didn’t. Couldn’t. Her senses were delirious. Now that he’d conquered scent and taste, she wanted touch. She craved the desire she saw in his eyes.
When she said nothing, he stood. Coming behind her, he set his hands on the sides of her chair. Without effort, he picked it up and angled it away from the table.
Kneeling before her, he drew her face into his hands. “Now, I want dessert.”
For a hot second, he stared at her lips like a man who’d been wandering a wasteland and finally came to the well he sought. Then he kissed her thoroughly.
Different from his quick tender kiss in the hallway, this lip-lock was intense, passionate. He feasted on her. Then he fed her kisses, letting her pursue his mouth as he pulled away, kissed her, and pulled away again.
She curved her hand around his neck and pulled her to him. She wanted this, needed this. So much unspent sexual need and emotion. So long denied. No words.
When he snaked his arm around her back and dragged her to the edge of the chair, she came willingly. As he pressed her tight to him, she spread her legs. Escaping her high-heels, she curled her foot around his thigh.
He groaned and shot up to standing, taking her with him. Legs wrapped around his waist, she didn’t let him break their kiss as he moved toward his bedroom.
They didn’t make it that far.
Intoxicated with sensation, she didn’t care about tomorrow. This moment was her world. And she wanted Logan.
They landed against the wall.
He cushioned the impact, hand cradling her head. But nothing, no wall or emotional barrier, could contain their attraction.
Just like the first time.
His tongue dove deep, curling around hers, drawing out every latent desire until she was a heap of nerves and need in his arms. “Take me.”
His kiss went into overdrive. He tilted her head to give him supreme access and his tongue made deep relentless sweeps.
The ravaging kisses ignited restlessness. He set her nerve-endings ablaze. Anticipation pounded through her veins.
He broke their kiss to say, “You have no idea how much I want you.”
“Believe me, I do,” she whispered against his lips.
His mouth locked on hers again. His arms tightened. She gave in to the strength of his embrace. Her inner thighs gripped his waist.
With shockingly swift moves, he stripped her naked. Her feet never touched the floor. She responded by unbuttoning his shirt, peeling it off his muscular shoulders. He finished the job, tearing off his shirt and shucking his bottom layers. His need pulsed against her opening.
His hot breath coasted down her neck to her cleavage. He cupped her breast and sucked her nipple into his mouth, flicking and teasing the peak. She moaned.
“Did I mention,” he murmured, “I still fantasize about your amazing breasts?”
“I’m okay with that. Just don’t stop.”
A wicked glint stole into his eyes. “I fantasize about you saying that, too.”
She laughed then gasped as his teeth tugged the tight bud. He moved to her other breast, kneading and flicking the tip. Her head dropped back.
After a few minutes of sweet torture, he brought their faces level. His eyes gaze bored into hers. “I’m going to take you.”
“Here?”
/> “Here. Now.”
A powerful thrust sent him into her heat. Her inner muscles clung to him. He pulled out halfway and thrust again.
She sucked in a breath. Sensation tightened and centered in her core. The promise of ecstasy shivered through her.
Arms encircling her body, he pumped into her. She rode every inch of his hot length. Her moans encouraged his thrusts, deeper, harder. A sheen of sweat broke across his skin turning slippery under her touch. He maintained his secure hold as he buried his face against her neck and drove into her again and again. His mouth sucked. His body plunged.
They made love with a force untamed.
As her core tightened, all sensation centered where he moved, hard and slick inside her. White-hot tingles spread through her. She arched, moaned with pleasure. She tightened around him. Then she unwound in ecstasy. Shivering, shaking in his arms, she gave over to the sparks of sensation exploding through her.
When her core spasmed around him, he shuddered. Clutching her, he came hard, spilling himself inside her.
A curse seethed through his clenched teeth. His cock throbbed, convulsions that drew out her orgasm beyond natural limits. He took her to a height beyond their one night together. How can this be better than that one perfect night?
Could sex get better each time, with the right person?
Wonderment left her dizzy at the thought.
He eased out of her, lowering her carefully until her feet met the hardwood floor. Her legs trembled. He swept her with a possessive, sexually charged glance. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
Delivering a sizzling kiss that promised more passion in store, he stroked her cheek and turned. She watched him amble toward his kitchen, offering a spectacular rear view. He was muscular, masculine perfection. Not over-developed like Trevor’s compact bulk, but tall, athletic, divinely proportioned. She marveled as she had looking up at Michelangelo’s David in Florence for the first time.
Logan seemed unaffected by his nudity. As if it were ordinary to have mind-blowing sex against his great room wall and then strut around naked and still half-hard.
