by Toni Blake
He didn’t even have to think as one kiss melted into another, and another—it was that easy. He just let his urges guide him. And before he knew it, they were quietly, wordlessly, sinking onto the floor of the boat together.
The move landed them out from under the pontoon’s awning, which covered only the rear half of the boat, and lying on her back beneath him, Amy peered up past him to whisper, “The stars are already coming out. Nights are so beautiful here.”
And it reminded him of being on that ferris wheel with Anna, how he’d mentioned the stars to her—and he realized all the more that he should have been riding it with Amy. And how Amy loved Destiny as much as him. And how intertwined their lives were in so many ways that he’d just never even thought about before.
“You’re beautiful,” he told her. Pushing a lock of hair from her face, he realized how true that was. And it wasn’t about makeup—because she wasn’t wearing any—or the bikini she had on. She was just beautiful in ways he’d never noticed until very recently.
The way her green eyes sparkled when she laughed, and how in awe she looked right now of something as simple as the sky. Her mouth, which he’d discovered was perfect for kissing, and the freckles that dotted her cheeks and cute little nose. The smile that always showed in her eyes. The love that shone in her eyes as she gazed up at him right now.
He kissed her again, caressing her slender neck, letting his fingertips drift downward onto her chest.
“I wish I’d ridden the ferris wheel with you, Amy,” he told her. “I’m sorry about that.”
“You already apologized, and it’s okay. And besides, right now, I’d rather think about what’s right between us than what’s gone wrong.”
The thought brought a small smile to his face as he told her, “Good idea.”
And as his cock hardened in his swim trunks—from everything about her in this moment—he knew he wanted her again, right here, right now, under the stars in the middle of Blue Valley Lake. He didn’t know how things were going to end up between them, but that didn’t matter—suddenly all that mattered was reconnecting with her in a deeper way than mere words allowed.
Fueled by fresh desire, he didn’t hesitate to slide his palm down over her breast through her bikini top in a tender caress that he felt as profoundly as he hoped she did. The soft moan that erupted from her throat pleased him, stiffening his erection a little more. Yeah, there were still times when it surprised him to realize he and Amy were like this now, but it escalated his excitement, too. To know her in this way no one else did. To see a side of her she’d kept hidden. To know he was the one who brought it out of her.
When her nipple jutted into his palm, a low groan escaped his throat, and he needed more, now. Suddenly thankful she wore so little, he reached deftly up behind her neck and pulled the yellow string there, loosening the top enough that he could easily slip his hand inside. She let out a sexy breath as his touch closed over her bared breast—and God, it made him impatient, made him want to rush.
But stop, slow down. Take your time. Enjoy this. Enjoy her. Enjoy how fresh and special and good this new connection between you is.
So he took a deep breath and kissed her some more as he fondled the soft mound of flesh in his hand, as he ran his thumb over the beaded tip. Her arms circled his neck, tightening as she kissed him without reserve, and he knew she was indeed as excited as him. “How did I never notice,” he heard himself whisper near her lips, “how hot you are?”
He liked how pleased she looked, and how confident, as she murmured back, “Some guys are just slow to catch on, I guess.”
He grinned, thinking every guy in Destiny had been slow to catch on about Amy and feeling damn lucky he was the first to have smartened up. With her help, of course. “Thank God you sent me those notes, honey,” he told her. And then he bent to lower his mouth over the same breast he’d been caressing at the exact second he moved his touch south, easing it boldly into her bikini bottoms.
Her light gasp was like sweet music to his ears, just before she said, her voice hot and breathy, “Yeah, thank God.”
“You feel so good,” he told her, his fingers sinking into the moist crevice between her legs.
She was breathing so hard now that it seemed difficult for her to get words out. “You . . . too.” And then—wow—Amy got aggressive. Reaching down, she closed her hand over his ass and pulled him closer, and he was realizing how he must feel against her thigh when she managed to say, “So hard.”
“Just for you,” he told her.
She bit her lip, looking sweet and sexy at once. “I like that.”
And he suffered a new sense of guilt over the whole situation with Anna. He’d been . . . damn, he’d just been selfish all this time. He’d been so wrapped up in his own troubles, his own confusion, that he’d never really stopped to think how Amy must feel knowing he was also interested in Anna. And somehow, what she’d just said had brought home to him how much she deserved his care and attention.
“I want to make you feel so good,” he told her.
“You are, you do,” she whispered, her voice as soft as the night that seemed to cradle them now, the sky gone as dark as black velvet.
And, then his Amy did something that surprised him even more than any other aggressive move she’d made with him so far—she eased her hand around from his butt, over his hip, and in between their bodies. He tensed with surprise at what was coming, but nothing could describe the shock of pleasure that shot through him when her hand closed over his erection through his swim trunks.
A low growl escaped him, and he rasped in her ear, “Damn, freckles, I want you. I want to be inside you. Now.”
Her lips trembled when she replied, “Oh God, I want you, too. Please. Hurry. Get these off me,” and the next thing he knew, she was struggling to get out of her bikini bottoms, and he was doing his best to help. After she finally kicked them off, they both pushed at his trunks until those were gone, too, and other than the undone top that lay loose around her midsection now, they were naked together on the boat.
Which was when Logan realized something downright awful. “Aw shit. I don’t have a condom.”
Unlike her earlier gasps, this one was more fraught with alarm than excitement. “You don’t have a condom?”
He let his eyes go wide on her. “I don’t exactly tote them around in my swim trunks. I mean, I wasn’t expecting this.”
Her sigh seemed to say she understood—but they still had a problem.
And he was feeling pretty desperate. Desperate enough to say, “I’m always careful, Amy.”
“I know,” she said. Obviously not getting what he was hinting at.
So he’d have to be clearer. “I’m always careful, so . . . it would be okay if I wasn’t that way tonight, with you.”
She drew in her breath, looking uncertain, and he felt the need to say more.
“I mean it when I say I’ve always, always used protection. You gotta know that I would never risk endangering you of all people. And besides,” he said, lowering his voice as he leaned his forehead over to touch hers, his need threatening to get the best of him, “if there’s anybody in the world I should be that close to, flesh to flesh, nothing in between, shouldn’t it be you?”
Amy could barely breathe under the weight of Logan’s words. And sure, she knew she could insist on a condom and that they could take the pontoon back to his cottage and then resume their passion there. But she trusted him. And the bond she was experiencing with him right now felt so incredibly powerful, and right, that she knew a need unlike any she’d ever known to join her body with his before even another minute passed. She knew in her very soul that what happened between them tonight had the power to make or break them, their burgeoning romantic relationship, and her heart told her not to wait.
“Yes,” she told him. “Yes, it should definitely be me.”
“Aw, honey, I’m so glad you feel that way,” he said.
And wanting no further ado,
Amy drew her body to his beneath the stars.
When he entered her, they both let out soft sounds of pleasure, and she’d never felt closer to him. Oddly, despite the earlier strife, this somehow felt easier than the previous times they’d had sex—maybe she was starting to get used to it, but this time, rather than thinking about anything she was doing, she simply let herself feel, and she followed her instincts.
As he moved inside her, she arched her body to meet his. It felt so good that she clenched her teeth, sighed, moaned, and worried about hiding nothing. Being made love to by Logan was perfect, the most perfect thing she’d ever experienced. It made her remember why she’d gone through all this tension and heartbreak over him, and it also gave her a glimpse of how truly, deeply amazing things could be with him in the future.
When, after a few blissful minutes, he pulled out of her, she missed his presence inside her immediately and protested. “Wait—why are you . . . ?”
His breath came warm, sexy on her ear. “Because, like I told you, I want to make you feel good.”
And with that, her lover—oh, she liked the sound of that, of having a lover—began to kiss his way down her body. Ohhh.
Slowing things down now, he kissed her breasts as he ran his hands smoothly, tenderly over her skin. “Got a little tan line going this afternoon,” he whispered, smiling up at her as he moved between one breast and the other.
“Uh-huh,” she replied absently, watching, amazed to be watching, amazed that this was her, virginal Amy Bright, a virgin no more.
Her body practically hummed as Logan rained kisses across her stomach, and then lower, lower, and the spot between her thighs wept with want and joy before he even got there. And when he got there—oh, she couldn’t hold in her sobs of pleasure.
It struck her then that maybe she was still feeling the effects of the wine coolers, that maybe that was why she was more able to let herself go this time, even more than last, and just soak up every delicious sensation Logan delivered. But she thought the truth was more because they’d now gotten past the hardest part, the transition from pure, platonic friendship to romance, and that maybe that meant the rest would be as easy as this had suddenly become, too.
As Logan’s ministrations grew more passionate, the pleasure inside her grew, escalated, higher, higher, and she recognized the nearing orgasm before it broke over her, wild and intense and as deep as the night sky. And again, she didn’t hold back—she cried out her pleasure, again, again, again, until finally the jagged pulses of feeling subsided, leaving her happy but spent as she relaxed and closed her eyes.
Until—mmm, yes—she sensed Logan crawling back up beside her again. And she let a sated smile steal over her, thinking at any moment he’d be lowering his body atop hers once more, easing his way back inside—so it surprised her when he whispered very close to her ear, “Why don’t you turn over, on your hands and knees.”
Amy just looked at him. “Huh?”
He cracked a small grin. “Too kinky too soon?”
She bit her lip. She didn’t know if it was too kinky too soon—because she’d never really thought about that kind of thing before. She was so new at this, after all. But then she remembered that so far tonight her inhibitions had completely fled the scene, and that she kind of liked that. And that this was Logan, and she was so comfortable with him, even sexually now. So, despite fearing she probably looked a bit shy when she said it, she told him, “No. Not too kinky too soon.”
And his smiled widened. “You’re amazing, freckles,” he said, making her thankful he’d transformed her into a more adventurous soul as she sat up and began to turn over, facing away from him. As a cool breeze passed over her just then, she felt amazing. Amazing and wild and sexy and fun. I can have what all my other friends have. I can have exciting fun, and I can have the love that makes everything feel so easy, too. I can have it all!
Sweet anticipation stole over her as Logan’s hands closed over her hips, and her whole body ached with wanting him back where he belonged. And it truly felt that way to her now—that he belonged there, his body united with hers.
And then he was pushing his way inside her and she cried out, feeling him deeper this way, tantalizingly deeper, her body now fuller with him than ever before.
“Aw, Amy,” he rasped behind her, “you’re so tight, so wet.”
“Just for you,” she told him, the same as he’d said to her a little while ago. “Just for you, Logan.”
And when he began to drive into her—oh Lord, she’d never felt anything like it! She found herself again gritting her teeth against the harsh pleasure, but happy to take it, to absorb each intense thrust he delivered. He’d never moved in her this way before—so hard, almost brutal. And she couldn’t have imagined how good that would feel, how—more than ever before—it wiped away all thought or decision and left her room only to bask in the physical delights it brought. She didn’t bother to hold in her moans—they came with each and every rough stroke. And she wanted it go on forever, even as she grew aware that her arms were quickly getting tired and her knees weak.
She peered out into the darkness at small lights along the shore that marked the homes and cottages there. And she felt like she harbored some wonderful, naughty secret from the people in those houses, the people who would never dream Amy from the bookstore could possibly be out on a boat in the middle of their lake having hot, wild sex right now. Nor could they know the deep, resounding joy it sent pounding through her veins to feel so feminine, to feel so womanly, to feel so daring, and to be experiencing it all with—and because of—the man she was in love with.
Finally, Logan’s hot drives into her sensitive flesh grew even rougher, more demanding, his fingers now digging into the flesh at her hips, and behind her, he said, “Aw, Amy baby—I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come inside your sweet body. Now.”
The thrusts that followed nearly stole her breath, but she loved them just the same because she loved having taken Logan there, having excited him so much. She loved the raw, unrefined intimacy passing between them, something that went far beyond that which they’d previously shared.
I love you, I love you, I love you. Like before, the words ached to flow from her lips—but still, something held her back. Pride, maybe? Maybe she just wanted to hear him say it first? She didn’t know, and was too spent to examine it, yet she hoped maybe he could feel that love echoing from her anyway. She’d never felt closer to another human being than she did to Logan in that moment.
They lay quietly, his body collapsed gently upon hers, until he whispered, “You okay?”
“Perfect,” she said, turning her head to look at him. Their faces were but a few inches apart.
“Good,” he replied with a smile. Then, “Amy, that was . . . incredible.”
She absorbed the compliment with her whole being, returning the grin. “For me, too.”
Then watched as he rolled over on his back, his smile fading just a little as he peered up into the dark night with a sigh. And something about it made her stomach churn.
“Something wrong?”
“I just wish things were different, that’s all.”
And then her stomach sank. Because . . . oh God, she’d read this all wrong, hadn’t she?
Somehow, as they’d made love, she’d made the huge assumption that now things would be different—that they’d be . . . a couple. Just like Rachel and Mike. And Tessa and Lucky. Why on earth had she thought that? Because he’d told her he didn’t have real feelings for Anna? Because she felt so comfortable with him sexually? Because he’d seemed so into her? Despite all that, she supposed it had been foolish to somehow just assume everything would be the way she wanted now. Still, she heard herself saying, “They could be. Maybe they will be. If we just let them.”
And it crushed something inside her when he gave no answer at all, simply lying there and staring upward, his expression so serious it was almost grim. If sex had left Amy feeling a bit spent . . . well, somehow this dep
leted any energy she had left. She rolled onto her back, too, now. And she tried to fight off tears. But they came anyway.
Oh God, stop. Stop crying. He can’t see you like this. You’re going to ruin everything.
But then again, what was there to ruin? If, after what they’d just shared, Logan was already so unyielding about their relationship, then maybe it hadn’t been nearly as special as she’d thought.
“Amy? Freckles, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
Oh Lord. Ugh. She’d hoped against hope that she could keep her weeping quiet and maybe somehow stop before he noticed, but it was not to be. And now he hovered over her, touching her face, wiping away tears—and despite having that feeling from earlier, of wanting to run away, there was definitely nowhere to run. She was trapped in the middle of the lake with him.
“I . . . I just . . .”
“What, honey? What’s wrong?”
She had no choice but to be honest—to let go, give up, and tell him what burned in her heart right now. “Like I told you earlier . . . I love you. And . . . and I guess I thought that . . . what we just did felt so right that . . .” That maybe it meant you loved me, too. But she couldn’t say that, couldn’t be that honest. And that made her cry a little more.
“Oh God, I just wish I didn’t love you, because it’s screwed things up for both of us in so many ways. And I have no idea how you feel about me in return, and that hurts. And I’ve become a jealous shrew. And I barely even know myself anymore. And . . .” She crushed her eyes shut, still trying to quell the tears. “And I can’t even believe I’m telling you all this!”
“Amy—Amy, come here, let me hold you,” he said, pulling her into his embrace. “It’s okay, baby, everything’s okay. Because . . . that’s the thing with us. You can tell me anything, even stuff like this. We can be real with each other—no stupid games or holding back because we already know each other so well.”
