Football players are assholes. I know; I'm related to their king. My older, and annoyingly overprotective, brother Jake is the star quarterback at Santa Cruz High School. I love him but hate living in his shadow. Everyone worshiping the air he breat...
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Oh my gawd, Logan could kiss. His lips were soft and patient, even when I grabbed his face and pulled him to me. I never wanted our kiss to end or lose the feeling of his hands holding my hips or the ridges of his ribs squeezed between my knees. His hair's short fade felt like I stroked my fingers over velvet.
My heart sighed when I felt his touch the second time. I challenged him to prove how much I meant to him, but I wanted to taste his true feelings and pulled him back to me. His lips swept over mine in a soft, warm breeze. Compared to the terrible kisses I'd had earlier today, his were feathery and tentative. His mouth asked for a permission that he already had. The careful caress of his lips against mine was, by far – hands-down and no comparison – the most powerful kiss I'd ever had because I never expected him to be gentle. Electric quivers of happiness and excitement radiated throughout my body.
I inhaled sharply through my nose, pulled closer to him, and deepened the kiss. With freedom of less space between us, I slid my fingers up the back of his neck and weaved into the longer, soft locks of his hair. If my lips didn't tell him that I was exactly where I wanted to be, that I wanted to trust him, then my clenched grip on his head like he was my lifeline did.
Logan's breath was heavy and warm against my skin as our lips parted before he kissed me again. I welcomed the taste of his warm, soft mouth against mine, and we exchanged gentle presses and pulls. Every kiss warmed my skin, rushed my blood faster through my veins, and fired off internal celebratory fireworks in the center of my chest. How tight his arms squeezed around me, and his mouth molded to mine lit up my body with tingles.
Every taste of him made me need more until my stupid stomach gurgled and squealed out an orca cry. I pulled back and sighed at our surroundings. I tried to be enthusiastic, but my voice strained tight in the back of my throat. "Greeeeeeaaat." We could've eaten in his truck. It smelled like him, not a gross body odor smell but clean. To his amusement, I almost needed a trampoline to climb into the passenger seat and jumped out like I had a parachute strapped to my back.
His low laugh carried over the rustling bag he opened. "Not a fan of the beach?"
"Which part?" I scowled and took my cheeseburger. "Melanoma or sand in every crack of my body?"
"It's early evening." He scanned around. "No melanoma. The sand? Yeah, you're right. Sorry, I didn't plan this. Wasn't where I wanted to take you originally."
"You seriously had a date planned?" How sweet was that? My heart crumpled when he nodded.
His boyish grin, a slip of warmth on his sharp facial features, was adorable. "Guess you'll just have to go out with me again to find out."
Today, Logan's boldness remained upfront, but it shifted away from irritating and more... endearing. I certainly never put myself out like that, but I could still tease him. "Depends on you cleaning up that shit with your team. And don't tell me we're going skinny dipping."
