His fingers rubbed against my chin before he lifted my head to make me look at him. His brows tucked in, and his lips were red and dry, but then he licked them with his pink tongue, and they shined. I’d never kissed anyone before, but I wanted to kiss him.
“You okay with this?”
I nodded.
“Use your words,” he ordered, and I never wanted to disobey him. I wanted to give him whatever he wanted.
“Yes, Logan. I’m okay with it.”
“You look scared. I never want to scare you.”
I bit my bottom lip, tugging it harder than I should, and he pulled it free with his thumb.
“Tell me the truth, and you’ll make yourself bleed, don’t do that.” He tapped my top lip, and my lips parted from the touch.
“I’ve never seen a man like this, that’s all.”
“I’ll put a shirt on,” Logan said, reaching for a white tee.
“No,” I grabbed his forearm and squeezed. “No, I’m just shocked.”
“Why?”
“Because I never thought a man could look as good as you do right now, that’s all.” That was the biggest sentence I had ever formed in a year. I was proud of myself but worried at the same time. I wasn’t sure how Logan would take my truth.
A breath left him in a slow exhale, and his blue eyes hid behind his lids as he closed them.
“I made you uncomfortable,” I said.
His red hair was messy and unkempt as he ran his fingers through it. “No, that’s not it. You are making it really hard not to kiss you.”
“Wh—Kiss me? Wh—why?” I stuttered. I hated it when I stuttered. I only sounded more inept but the way he looked at me… Sure, men had stared at me before with hunger, but they weren’t good men. I felt it. Right now, Logan stared at me like those men, but there wasn’t darkness hiding behind his eyes. It was pure good.
His soul, his mind, his heart, everything about Logan was genuine.
His fists clench at his sides, his arms shaking and veins protruding from his muscles. He looked like he was about to burst. “You’re standing there in my t−shirt, looking beautiful, so beautiful that I never want to see you in anything else except my clothes. You admitted that you like how I look and the way you stare at me makes it hard to remember that you need time. You need to heal. And me wanting to kiss you interferes with that. I can’t do that.” He stepped forward and held my face in his hands like I was the most precious thing in the world. “I’d never stop you from healing, Abigail. I can fight my wants until you are ready, even if it is the hardest thing I’d ever have to do, it’ll be worth it.”
How did I tell a man that has probably kissed a thousand women, that I haven’t kissed one man? Maybe keeping my mouth shut would be the best thing for the both of us.
Chapter Nine
Logan
I needed to steer this conversation toward dinner because the longer I stood this close to her in the closest, the more my good intentions were crumbling. She really did look fucking good in my shirt. It felt like I claimed her in a way. It was my shirt that she chose to wear over her own, mine.
And that felt so good.
“Come on. Your hair needs to get brushed, and we need to order food before it gets too late.” I received a text then, my phone dinging from across the room, and it was just what I needed to break the connection between us. My cock was semi−hard and only semi because I was controlling myself. And no one would know how much I deserved a fucking trophy for not pouncing on the woman who wore my shirt, showing off her long legs, tugging on it like a shy virgin.
Fuck, she probably was a virgin.
My vision hazed a bit from that, and my cock stood straight, there was no denying how much I wanted her now. I wanted that virginity. I wanted to be her first and last, to show her that I could take care of her in every way.
Her mind. I’d fill it with support, hopes, confidence, and dreams.
Her soul. I’d fill it with my love by cherishing and nourishing it and watch her bloom.
Her body. I’d fill it full of me, taking care of her aches, her pains, give her all the pleasure. I’d touch her every curve and kiss her lips every single day. There wouldn’t be a day where she felt unwanted.
I needed out of this fucking closet.
I took her hand in mine and led her out of the door. The enclosed space was getting to me. Once we were in the bedroom, I sucked in a lungful of air when my eyes landed on her ass, barely covered by the shirt.
Barely.
I wasn’t going to sleep tonight. I was fucked. How long would I be tired for? A week? A month? A year? I had a feeling my coffee intake was going to double.
“What are you in the mood for?” My voice broke as I asked. Damn it, that was happening way too frequently with her. I needed my manly voice back.
I rolled my eyes at myself. I was wrecked.
She jumped on the bed and crossed her legs. From where I was standing, I could see the tease of the black panties she wore, and I dragged my eyes to her face, literally dragged them because I could look at the small square showing between her legs all damn night. Abigail unwrapped the towel from around her hair, and the wet strands fell down. She went to twist them up and make a bun, but I stopped her.
“You can comb your hair. Hold on.” I opened my dresser drawer and got out the pink brush. Girl’s liked pink, right? I handed it to her, and she smiled at the same time I winced when she pulled the bristles through the knots. It sounded painful, but she just kept the smile on her face like it was the best thing in the world.
I watched her, watched how she loved the simple things so much because she had been without them. I could learn a thing or two from her. When she was done, the brush resembled a bird’s nest, but her hair was smooth, shining from the water, and then to her surprise, I handed her a few different hair ties.
Scrunchies, because they were making a crazy come back, and then regular black bands that cut off the circulation to every girl’s wrist I had ever have seen.
Abigail picked the velvet purple scrunchie, and she plopped her hair in a messy bun on top of her head, the scrunchie making it look cute and careless, yet fashionable. A few pieces of hair fell around her face, framing the delicate jawline, and she looked so beautiful right then. I wanted to take a picture.
I took my phone from the nightstand and swiped my sister’s message away and then brought up my camera. “Can I take a picture of you?” I asked, hoping she said yes because I wanted to see her whenever I wanted, especially on the days I wouldn’t be able to.
“Why?” she asked, seeming unsure.
“Cause you look beautiful right now,” I said honestly, watching the apples of her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink.
She nodded.
“Use your words, baby,” I urged. I noticed the more she spoke, the lighter the slur was. It would probably always be there, but the brain was a muscle, and so was the tongue. We needed to use it.
I knew one way…
God, I’m a bastard.
“Yes. You can.”
“I can what?” I asked.
She huffed, clearly annoyed. Her almond eyes narrowed at me as she crossed her arms. “You can take a picture of me.”
A cheeky grin spread across my face. I lifted my phone, and she came into the screen. She looked a bit afraid. She uncrossed her arms and tilted her head to the side, giving me a coy look full of innocence. I snapped the picture right then and set it as my background. “Perfect.”
“Now, do you want pizza, Chinese, Thai? My personal favorite is Indian food. I love Indian food.”
“If you like it, I want to try it,” she said. “I’ll eat your scraps.”
I paused what I was doing, looking up the number to the Thai place and it hit me then that she hadn’t had a good meal in about a year, minus the sandwich she had the other day. I sat on the bed and took her hand in mine, rubbing the ridges of her knuckles. “Abigail, with me, you never have to eat scraps. You’re going to get
your own meal. Your own drink. You never have to be hungry again, not while you’re with me.” Not ever. Even if she didn’t want to be with me, I’d make sure she would be taken care of. I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and settled in next to her. “Here, we can look at the menu together. You can get whatever you want.”
Her brows did a cute curve in the middle as she knitted them together, and as she leaned into me, I did the one thing that felt natural.
I put my arm around her. Maria’s name took that moment to pop up on my screen in a text that said, “We need to talk.” I knew Abigail saw it, but she didn’t say anything, she continued to look at the menu. I slid the message away. Maria had this innate ability to grab anyone’s attention, and while that used to be the case with me, I knew now that the only thing I ever felt about Maria was lust. The way I felt about Abigail was a million times more than what I felt with Maria.
“That,” Abigail said, pointing to the chicken vindaloo. “And that,” she slid her finger across the screen, and it scrolled up really fast. She jerked her hand away and stared at me with wide eyes. “It moved,” she said.
Fuck, she couldn’t even remember cell phones. I bet she had one too. No way she didn’t.
“It’s a touch screen. Here.” I grabbed her hand and took her index finger to slide across the screen. “It isn’t familiar? They have been out for a while.”
She shook her head, and by the way her mouth frowned, I knew I had upset her. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Not you,” she said. “Memory,” Abigail pointed to her head. “Frustrating.”
“I could imagine. I’ll teach you whatever you want to know about the phone, okay? Let’s order food and put on a movie and just enjoy the rest of our night? What do you want?”
She grinned, smiling as she pointed to a few different things. I got them all for her, a piece of chocolate cake, and a few Cokes and bottles of water. I put it all on my debit card, and now all we had to do was wait.
“If you eat all of that, I’ll give you a treat, and I’ll be really impressed.” I didn’t tell her, but we ordered around one hundred bucks worth of food. I had the money. It wasn’t a big deal, but she ordered like four entrees and three appetizers.
“What kind of treat?” she asked and tucked her legs under her butt.
“I don’t know, whatever you want. Candy, a beer,” I chuckled. Shit, was she even old enough to drink? Fuck, was she old enough to be in this room with me? Was she legal? Panic bubbled up in my chest at the thought of lusting after someone underage.
“A kiss,” she whispered so low, it sounded more like the sound a breeze carries.
“How old are you?” I asked, nervous to know the answer to the question.
“Maybe twenty−one? Can’t remember birthday,” she said, breaking my fucking heart. “I remembered being twenty.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, and my cock agreed. Thank fuck. “And you want a kiss if you finish all your food?”
She nodded eagerly and then sat crossed legged, smiling. “I never kissed anybody before, not that I can remember.”
Abigail was using her words more. I was so fucking proud of her, even if it was just a short amount of time, it was progress. “So, I’d be your first?” I asked. My previous thought of her being a virgin might not be wrong then. But maybe she had a high school boyfriend, and they had sex, and she couldn’t remember. I didn’t judge her at all, I wasn’t a virgin, but the selfish and possessive bastard in me wanted her to be untouched.
All for me.
“After the accident, yes. Before,” she shrugged. “I don’t feel I did.”
“Feelings tell a lot. Instincts are usually right.”
“I remember nothing, but…” she groaned in frustration. “The word,” Abigail pressed her palms against her eyes. “Don’t know the word.”
“Hey,” I took her hands in mine. “Take a deep breath. No rush.”
“Like little things,” she placed her fingers together until they almost touched.
“Flashes?”
“Flashes,” she said in agreement. “And feelings.” Her hand fell to her stomach, holding it tight. “Bad feelings,” Abigail’s voice was far away.
Her mind didn’t remember, but her body did. “Can you explain it to me?”
She stared at me with watery eyes, still clutching her stomach until her knuckles were white.
“Use your words. I’ll listen. I’ll help. There’s no rush. You’re brilliant, okay? You’re strong,” I brought her hand to my mouth and placed a kiss on her cold fingers. “There, I gave you a kiss.”
“That’s cheating,” she pouted. “Real deal,” Abigail tapped her lips with her finger.
I tossed my head back and laughed, laying her hand flat on my cheek, I leaned into it. “You’re a breath of fresh air,” I said. “I’ll kiss you if you tell me what you remember. Incentive.”
The happiness fled from her face, the glow, the blush, her skin pale and almost sickly as she did her best to remember that night. “Cold. It was cold.” She looked up toward the ceiling, and her fingers danced in the air. “Snow fell. It was pretty.” Abigail looked at her hands like something was on them. “It’s blur after that. I woke up in the hospital. They told me my parents were dead. I didn’t remember my parents, but I cried anyway because I felt the loss, even if I didn’t remember them. I didn’t know my name. I only know what they told me.”
I clutched her hands with the same amount of force as she held onto mine.
“They wanted to take me to the house.”
“Why didn’t you go?” I asked.
“Something bad happened there. I don’t know what. I feel it. I still feel it. Dark. It was evil. I never wanted to go back. I ran.”
That explained so much more about her. She had a home, somewhere, but she decided not to go there because of what happened, whatever it was, I believed it was bad because if it had anything to do with the scar on the back of her head, what happened to her parents was probably awful.
What happened to them though?
“You never talked to anyone about it?” My curiosity got the best of me. “Maybe someone could help.”
“Just you,” she said. “Never wanted to talk before you.” Abigail glanced down at our hands and tried to tug them away, but I didn’t let her go. She took a deep breath, her chest expanding, and when she let it out, she spoke again, “I get flashes sometimes. Someone hovering over me. I hate knives. Too dark to make out the face. I try so hard, but everything is dark. Like…a sha−dow,” she said slowly as the word came to her. “Sorry, I sound so stupid. They said it is because of the injury. Damaged the speech part of my brain.”
That pissed me off that she thought of herself like that. I got on my knee and held her face with my hands, staring at her intensely. “I never ever want to hear you talk about yourself like that. A stupid person couldn’t have survived like you have. You are smart. You are brave. You are strong. I admire you. Not a lot of people could live after what you have been through; they would have given up. I never want to hear those words come from your mouth again, or I’ll spank you.” I made sure to smile at the last part, so she knew I was kidding, but my cock took notice, and by the way Abigail’s eyes dilated, she was interested too.
“Spank to hurt?” she asked.
“Never. Never to hurt you,” I pulled her to me, burying her face in my chest. “It’s hard to learn all over again, and you’re doing it. Don’t ever give up on yourself, and if you do, I’ll be there to remind you how capable you are, but you are not stupid. That hurts me so much that you think that.”
“Okay. I’ll try,” she said. “It’s been hard to come to terms with.”
“I can imagine. You’re beautiful; you know that?”
She slid her eyes away and shook her head.
My hand landed on the crook of her neck, and my thumb rubbed the soft skin of her jugular. Her pulse spiked, and she licked her lips. The air between us changed,
and while I wanted to fight it, to tell her she needed more time, I wanted to kiss her more than anything.
I needed to kiss her, but I wouldn’t make a move until she gave me the go-ahead. Abigail had to use her words; it was the only way I’d kiss her. I brought my forehead to hers, shut my eyes, and tried to get ahold of myself. Her arms snaked around my waist, and with every stroke of her hands, I trembled.
“I’ll tell you every day, baby.”
“Tell me what?” she asked me, running an exploratory finger down my spine.
“I’ll tell you how much you’re worthy, how much you’re loved and wanted, how smart you are. There will never be a day where you don’t know how much you’re cared for. I’ll make sure there will never be a chance for you to forget.”
Her eyes swam with tears, and they broke free from her waterline, sending rivers down her face. “Why? Why me?”
“I knew the moment I saw you.” I pressed my hand against my stomach like she did earlier. “I feel it. Right here, like you do about your past. I never go against my instincts and going against what I feel for you; that’s what I would be doing. Letting you go, it isn’t an option, Abigail. If you want to leave, tell me now.” Before I fell even more in love with her, which would happen. I already had strong feelings for her, and it had only been a few days. The feeling was consuming, mind−numbing, soul−aching, but it felt right.
Everything with her felt right, like how it was supposed to feel with someone. Never once did it feel like that with Maria.
Her dark lashes were wet, and when she closed her eyes, I saw the stress leave her face, the relief. “Kiss me, Logan. Please.”
I slowly dragged my lips across the bridge of her nose, kissing the cute pointed tip. I didn’t lay us down; I kept us sitting up because I was afraid if I laid her horizontal, I’d rip that shirt off her body and worship her.
“Logan.” My name panted against my lips, and I knee−walked closer to her until our bodies were just mere inches apart.
I smoothed my hand up her neck until I had a firm grip of her jaw as I inched forward. I shouldn’t kiss her. She needed time, but as soon as her palm landed on my chest, right above my heart, those thoughts went out the window. “Don’t move,” I said, afraid that if she met me, I’d ravage her.
Always The Hero (Plot Twist, I'm Pregnant Book 2) Page 7
