42
Alexis Stone’s One-Night Stand
“Cheers!” Inside the tent, everyone raised glittering glasses of champagne as Annie’s father ended his speech, impressively delivered first in Korean, then in English. As the party buzzed back to high volume, I slid my chair closer to Logan’s. He turned to me, his face lit with the pure pleasure of seeing two families dizzy in love, and from the simple happiness of watching someone else give a speech for once. I squeezed his hand and he looked down at where our fingers intertwined on his thigh. His thumb tapped an impatient rhythm, the staccato beat of restraint. He raised our hands and pressed a kiss to my knuckles. As I looked at him, the full weight of how much I wanted him hit me. After holding it in for so long, I nearly trembled with it. Goose bumps raced up my arms.
“Cold?” he asked, reaching to take off his jacket.
This time, I didn’t have to lie. “No. Put your hands on me. Please.”
His eyes grew instantly darker. “Here?”
“Everywhere.” It turned out it wasn’t hard to be bold when you wanted so badly you couldn’t think straight. All this time, I hadn’t been deficient: I’d simply been missing Logan. I uncrossed my legs under the table and slid his hand under the chiffon layers of my dress. His palm was rough where the dress had been silky, and I shivered at the difference. He looked at me a moment, the lines of his face traced by candlelight and shadows, and then with one strong tug he pulled my chair closer. I was practically in his lap now, but the people around us were drunk and getting up to dance.
“Don’t move.” His mouth crooked into a smile. “Act like everything’s normal.”
“Good thing I’m practiced.”
His hand traced a path of heat up my thigh. I tilted my hip in his direction, but he didn’t obey, skimming close to the seam of my panties, then dipping away.
I made a soft strangled sound and closed my eyes. When I opened them, Logan looked at me like he wanted to devour me.
“You close your eyes whenever I touch you. Why?”
His long finger traced the lace at the seam and I quivered. “Because being with you feels like a dream, and I want to stay inside it.”
He swallowed hard. Under the table, his fingers slipped up and stroked me, his touch growing more insistent. I checked that no one was watching and rolled my hips, moving against his hand. It was enough to make me catch fire. He answered by moving his fingers in slow, teasing circles. I caught his free hand and bit his thumb.
“Come on,” he said, rescinding his hands and standing. I groaned at the loss of contact, but he reached down and smoothed my dress, then tugged me up.
I had to skip to keep pace with him as he strode out of the tent, hand wrapped firmly around mine. We entered a dark garden, a maze of cypress trees tall and thin as matchsticks, peachy-pink roses, and perfectly trimmed hedges, the dreamy music and twinkling stars forming a fairy-tale setting. I looked around in wonder. “Where are we going?”
He pulled out his phone. “I have a surprise.”
It felt like I’d spent twenty-seven years waiting for him, and I didn’t want to wait anymore. I pushed Logan against a cypress tree and heard the satisfying crunch of the branches giving, then holding his weight. He blinked and threw his phone into the grass, sinking his hands into my hair. For a single moment the thought blazed that Lee would be very proud of me right now, and then I put away all thoughts of my sister.
I stepped between Logan’s legs and his hands slipped down, sliding over my curves, cupping my ass. He ground me against his hips. My voice came out breathless. “I’ve wanted to do this every day of the campaign.”
His feverish eyes dropped to my lips. I pressed a hand to his forehead and he trembled. “You should have. I could never tell what you wanted.”
I tipped my head back and laughed. Logan took advantage and kissed a column down my throat. “What’s so funny?”
“You were the one who was impossible to read.”
He rested his forehead against mine. “I was trying to stick to our rules. That’s what I thought you wanted. But inside I was drowning.”
“You and those damn rules,” I whispered, brushing my lips against his.
He spoke between kisses. “I wanted to do it right. Be the kind of person you deserve.”
I stood on my tiptoes to deepen the kiss, but his gaze fell over my shoulder to his phone, lit in the grass. “Uber’s here.”
I groaned.
He lunged for the phone. “Trust me. It’ll be worth the wait.”
The Uber swept to a stop in front of the Fleur de Lis, its tall spire rebuilt, gleaming against the night sky. When I turned to Logan, I knew my heart was in my eyes.
He squeezed my knee. “I owe you a night here.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat and managed a smile. “If a freak thunderstorm hits tonight, I’m quitting the library to become a climate activist.”
He roared a laugh and pushed open the door. “Come on, Ruby. I’ve been waiting a long time to kiss you in the Governor’s suite.”
Unlike the first night, this time we didn’t stumble down the hall to our room. We might only have this one night together, but it wasn’t casual. When we stepped inside the suite and the lights glowed, illuminating Logan’s serious face, my heart began to race.
“What?” He stepped closer. The perfect picture, standing where he’d stood months before.
I shook my head. “You’re too beautiful. Too much.”
He stared at me for a long, charged moment. And then slowly, he sank to his knees.
“Logan—”
“Ever since the night we met, I’ve been trying to figure out what your eyes reminded me of. I finally decided they’re honey-brown with green flecks. A constellation trapped in amber. The gold is brightest when you’re happy.” He looked up at me like a knight pledging allegiance. “They’re so beautiful I had to train myself not to look at you too long when I spoke. Otherwise, I would’ve been lost every time I tried to give a speech.” Gently, he pulled up the layers of my dress. “The way you smell drives me wild. Flowers, but so light it disappears when you try to chase it. Every time it hit me in the conference room it took all my willpower not to climb across the table and kiss you. My couch smelled like you for a full day after you came over and I curled in those blankets when I got home from work and tried to tell myself I was just in the mood to watch movies all night.”
I stood stock-still, drowning in his litany. Logan hooked his fingers under the lace of my panties and tugged them down. My legs felt boneless as I leaned against the wall, shoulder blades first. When he looked up, his eyes were smoldering, his voice hypnotic. “I’ve memorized the way you look when you’re happy, the way you sound when you laugh, how you press your eyes closed when I touch you.” His voice thickened. “Like now.”
My eyes fluttered open.
“All I’ve thought about since the last time we were in this suite is how much I wanted to rewind time and come back. Do everything different.” He touched me between my legs; long, unhurried strokes. My head fell back against the wall. “I told you I think I lose my mind around you. The truth is, I feel like a teenager again, the way I can’t stop thinking about you, the things I have to do just to get relief. You think I’m too much for you?” He shook his head. “You’re the one who’s too much. Do you know what it’s like to work for something your whole life and then have someone walk in and become the most important thing to you in an instant? Everything changed at the drop of a hat. It’s fucking disorienting, Alexis. You turned me upside down.”
“Please,” I whispered. My knees bent at his touch, his words. My shoulders sank down the wall.
“And now all I can think is...” He moved closer still, sliding on his knees across the floor. “Fuck leading anyone. I want to follow you on my hands and knees across the desert.”
I was already so turned on that when his fingers slid inside me, even so carefully, I arched off the wall. He followed his fingers with his mouth, licking and curling his tongue until I made a sound close to a sob. Each stroke made my body crackle to life, a landscape of small fireworks. The sensations built and built until I felt like I might scream.
I twisted my fingers in his thick hair and he hummed into me, making me rise to my tiptoes. He released my dress and his hands slid to the small of my back, pulling me nearer, fingers digging into my spine like he couldn’t get me close enough. The pressure of his tongue intensified and I realized he was showing me how hungry he was, how desperate I made him, in a way that was stronger than words, strong enough to erase what any other man had ever told me. The knowledge that he craved me this intensely—had craved me for months—made me feel so powerful. Powerful, and safe. I sank against the wall, muscles relaxing that final crucial inch. So when he circled his thumb, tongue urging me on, building a pulsing pleasure inside me, I cried out. He squeezed my hips, licking me softly as I came down.
I dragged in mouthfuls of air as Logan staggered to his feet, pupils blown, looking half-drugged. “Your mouth,” I rasped. “Of course you can do that with your mouth.” Logan Arthur’s mouth was trouble in so many ways.
He grinned and seized me, kissing me fiercely in a way that told me he was just getting started. For a minute I simply drowned in him. Kissing him, touching him, was the best feeling on earth. When I finally pulled back for air, I was no longer embarrassed by what I wanted. “More,” I whispered.
He bit my bottom lip. “Turn around.”
I obeyed. Logan’s hand spanned my waist, keeping me steady, while he slowly unzipped my dress. The straps fell away like petals off a rose. He traced a finger down my spine. “So beautiful it hurts,” he whispered, kissing my neck. Goose bumps lifted over my whole body.
I was naked and he was still in his tux, but for once I didn’t mind being the center of attention. I tilted my head to give him better access to my neck. My nipples peaked as Logan’s hands slipped around me to cup my breasts, drawing me closer until my back was pressed firmly against his chest. For a moment we just stood there, lost in how perfectly our bodies fit together.
I could feel the evidence of how much he wanted me pressed against my back, and pushed past my shyness. “When I imagined this, I pictured...”
He sank his teeth gently into my neck. “Tell me.”
“Upstairs.”
He stilled. And then in one fluid movement, Logan picked me up, an echo of the way he’d carried me that very first night. Except this time, he carried me up the spiral staircase to the second floor of the suite. To the bedroom.
Dimmed lamps bookended a soft white bed. Logan bent and set me gently on it.
Before he could retreat, I caught his face in my hands. “You weren’t the only one who was tortured these last months, you know.”
He drew a deep breath. His eyes burned. “Good.”
I pulled his mouth to mine and he dropped to his knees in front of the bed. This kiss was decadent, slow and unhurried. Each time I tilted my head he chased me, seeking more, and it became a dance. Retreat, pursue, capture. Desire spilled through my body like warm honey. This was what I wanted: slow and luxurious. I wanted someone to burn for me so white-hot his handprints branded my skin. I wanted someone to tongue his name into me, to carve his feelings into my skin with his teeth. I wanted passion and love and security—all three at the same time, no compromise. It turned out that was what unleashed me.
With new urgency I slid my hands under Logan’s suit jacket until he wrestled it off. He tugged at the knot of his bow tie as I fumbled to unbutton his shirt. When it fell open, I drank in the sight of him, the slashes of his collarbones meeting the hard swell of his shoulders, his firm biceps, his golden skin. The hint of abs sketching over his stomach.
“Stand up,” I said. I needed to confirm a suspicion.
Logan obeyed, standing, his eyes trained on me, so dark with desire they were almost black. I ran my fingers over the ridges of his hip bones, the black hair trailing lightly from his belly button. I swallowed hard and his cock twitched. This time Logan closed his eyes.
I unzipped his pants slowly, tugging them and his boxers down until he stepped out of both. Then Logan Arthur was naked in front of me: All six feet, two inches, firm, muscular ass, thick soccer player’s thighs, his hard length rising against his stomach. I stared in wonder. My suspicion was right. He was bigger than any man I’d ever been with, his size something I’d felt through his clothes and wondered at. I resisted the sudden urge to joke that while he may not talk soft, Logan did carry a big stick.
He opened one eye and looked down at me. “Fuck, Alexis. Say something.”
I told him the truth. “Everything about you makes me very nervous and very happy at the same time.”
He loomed over me, all height and bulk, and smiled, small and soft. Briefly, I felt the fear that comes with wanting someone so deeply you know nothing in your life will ever be the same. Then Logan said, “I know exactly what you mean.” And the fear melted away.
I reached out, taking his hard length in my hand, stroking him softly at first and then more insistently, getting used to his size. I built a rhythm that had Logan groaning until he suddenly arched up on the balls of his feet and stilled me. “Stop—you have to stop.”
He bent to pick up his wallet and pulled a condom out of it. I slid back on the bed, watching as he rolled it on deftly. Then, without warning, Logan grinned and seized my ankles, dragging me back to him while I yelped.
“Tell me more about what you imagined,” he said, a wicked glint in his eyes.
I willed courage. “You inside me, over and over. All night. Until neither of us can walk.”
His eyes shut briefly. “Yeah,” he rasped. He sat next to me on the bed and pulled me on top of him. “Well. You know I live to serve.”
He cupped my jaw, kissing me feverishly. Slowly, I sank onto him, gasping into his mouth when he filled me so deep I had to still for a moment. This was going to be it for me, wasn’t it? I was going to become addicted to this man, to this feeling, and there would be no going back.
Logan gripped my waist and rolled his hips, pushing deeper. I sucked in a breath, fingernails digging into his shoulders. And then, as soon as my body adjusted, the switch flipped. All I wanted was more. I ground against him.
Logan’s lips skimmed my ear. “Trust me,” he whispered. Then he swept his hands to my back and dipped me lower, changing the angle.
I almost cried out. Every movement sent him so deep. That feeling started to build again, except this time it was almost unrecognizable in its depth, as if I was drawing from a deep untapped well of sensation. When I moaned, it was a ragged sound.
“Good,” he coaxed, gripping my hips.
I stopped thinking and let go, riding him until we were both sweating and gasping, until my fingernails left half-moon marks in his biceps, until I was nothing more than the steady pulse between my thighs. He re-angled me and thrust deeper, clutching at my hair, sucking my lip, and I shattered, coming so hard it hit me in waves, refusing to be done with me. I crumpled and he pulled me into his chest.
“Shh.” He spoke into my damp hair. “Catch your breath so we can go again.”
I looked up at him, my chest heaving, gasping for breath, and he grinned. “You gave me orders. All night. Every position. There’s no way I’m letting you down. So buckle up.”
Good God. Alexis Stone: not a mouse. A sex genius..
Hours later we lay tangled, bodies spent. I suspected I’d come apart more in one night with Logan than I had in all my past relationships combined. His eyes were closed, his face so close our noses touched. I stroked his hair. It was wrecked, sticking up in every angle. Logan Arthur, fierce brash man, was now tender and vulnerable.
His long lashes stirred against the pillow and he opened his eyes, smiling drowsily. “Hey, you. What’s that look for?”
“This feels like the part where I wake up and realize it was all in my head.”
Logan’s eyes turned worried, but I smiled. “It’s okay. We said one night. I know your life’s up in the air until the election. But you’re going to win, and then everything will be...” Then there will be no chance for us. I swallowed. “Great. You’ll finally have your dream.”
He studied me. “Right now, the only thing I want is to fall asleep holding you.”
I moved closer and he wrapped his arms around me. I took deep lungfuls of his scent, pressing my cheek to where his pulse moved in his throat, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
When I was very nearly asleep and the world was warm and hazy, I felt him kiss my temple softly. Then he whispered, so faint it was barely more than a breath, “Whatever it takes, let me keep her.”