Page 26

L ana groans. “We should have stopped at the first one we saw.”

“For once, I agree with you,” Crew responds, taking us all by surprise.

After having passed up the only decent looking hotel, we get stuck with this one. It’s to be expected because the trailer park is tucked away in the middle of nowhere and we are obviously getting closer. As we stand waiting for our keys to the only two rooms available, my skin crawls.

It’s your typical motel, with only two floors.

The building stretches out like a beach, making it appear smaller when you look on.

A potent mix of fried chicken and marijuana hangs in the air of the front office.

The flies swarming around are from the filth, or a potentially dead body.

I might be exaggerating but you never know.

The clerk hands Logan over the two keys.

“They’re on completely different sides of the building,” Logan states as he scans the motel numbers.

I peer over his shoulder on my tiptoes, getting a whiff of his scent that masks the oil and pot smell.

And sure enough, each room couldn’t be farther from the other.

“Guess me and Lana will start walking now. Maybe we’ll make it there by sunrise,” I joke, but the unease in my tone is clear. This place gives me the creeps.

Logan rubs the back of his neck. “I think we should stay boy girl.”

All our attentions snap toward Logan who just suggested a co-ed sleepover.

“Boy. Girl. You make it sound like summer camp,” Lana quips.

“My favorite kind of camp.” Crew smirks playfully.

Logan stands tall, studying the room numbers on the cards again. “I’d feel better if the girls weren’t staying alone.”

I gulp from the future awkwardness setting in. Who is pairing up with whom?

“Sounds good.” Crew moves over, trapping me against his muscled chest. “Sora can stay with me.”

“No.” Logan’s quick response earns a grin from Crew. “Sora will stay with me. You and Lana can take the other room.”

“Wait. Can’t we draw straws or flip a coin or something? Why does Sora get you?” Lana’s brows tilt upward like a sad animal.

“Please, ladies, don’t fight over me.” Crew places a dramatic hand on his chest.

“Trust me. Nobody is fighting over you.”

Crew's face drops. “Come on, killer. Unless you've got straws hidden where that stick is shoved, let's just get this over with,” he urges. He holds out a hand for Lana to take, but she stomps past him toward their room, carrying her purple floral bag on her back.

“Have fun, kids.” Crew waves at us as he follows Lana to their room.

I stare blankly at Crew’s broad back as they slowly add distance to us.

“Ready?” Logan asks me, and I peer up at his handsome face.

Am I? Suddenly, I’m aware of the fact I’ll be spending an entire night with Logan. In the same room.

I nod with a faint smile, and that’s when it happens. My head is being forced up by the soft touch of Logan’s fingers under my chin. I’m lost in his gaze. Like wandering through a dark forest with no light to guide me. Only the feeling of Logan’s touch will help me through.

“Sora. I’ll never force you to do anything. If you’re not comfortable—”

“No. It’s not that. I um… it’s fine. Let’s just go.” I flash him with a reassuring smile, but his fingers still linger on me. If he doesn’t let go, I’m pretty sure I’ll burst into flames.

His hand drops to his side, and he waits for me to take the lead. I nervously shuffle in front of his colossal frame, checking all the numbers as I go by. With ours being the closer room, it doesn’t take long to find.

The light turns green, and the door unlocks, both of us entering our temporary home for the night.

“I really hope that smell is my imagination,” I say, covering my nose with the back of my hand.

“I smell it too.”

“Fabulous.”

How do I always get myself into these situations?

I fumble with my bag as I lay it on the bed. Within seconds, I’m whipping out my spray, filling the room with lavender vanilla. “Sorry if it’s overpowering, but it’s either this or we endure the rigor mortis scent all night.”

Logan’s nostrils flare and his chest rises heavily. “I like this better.” He catches me prisoner with his stare, and I panic, taking off for the bathroom.

To calm my nerves, I take deep and slow breaths behind the safety of the door. Why did my body want to turn into a puddle of liquid every time Logan looked at me the way he does?

Once I’m done spritzing the bathroom, I spot Logan trying to turn on the end table lamp without success.

“Bulbs dead.”

“Of course it is.” I sigh, putting the spray back in my bag. “At least we have the other lamp.”

Logan goes to turn it on and… nothing.

I cast a knowing glance, going back to flick on the bathroom switch.

One small light illuminates the tiny area above the vanity.

“It’s something I guess,” I say, peeking at the tub.

No visible stains or mysterious fluid that will kill me, so bathing doesn’t seem like a terrible option.

This humidity's making me sticky, and I need a distraction from Logan's proximity.

Logan retrieves a pillow, moving it from the bed to a chair near the door. I know where this is going, even if we haven’t addressed the one bed situation, I’m not letting him sleep on something that is three sizes too small.

“Unless you’re going to shrink down to when you were a toddler, I’m thinking you should take the bed.”

He stares at the chair for a minute. “This is fine.”

I roll my eyes. “Men are so stubborn,” I groan. “Go ahead and try it out, then. I’ll wait.” I stand with my hands on my hips while Logan blinks at me slowly.

His fit butt hits the seat and then, like out of a sitcom, the sofa chair collapses. It falls like an explosion from the bottom up.

Laughter builds, working its way out before I can suppress it. I throw a hand over my mouth, but it only muffles the sound. “Are… are you okay?” I end with another laugh.

Logan’s stuck inside the cushion, but he smiles with a shake of his head. “Guess we won’t have to worry about who’s taking the bed. Looks like we’re sharing, dove.”

My laugh stifles at the nickname. Dove.

“Help me up?” Logan holds out his hand for me to take, and when his skin touches mine, a scorching sensation travels through me. I give a stern pull, but Logan tugs me toward him, and I stumble over.

Right on his lap.

What I’m not expecting next is the deep, sexy rumble of laughter that tumbles out of him. It’s music to my ears. A sensual sound that hits straight down to my core. I want to bottle it up forever.

Mesmerized by Logan, I’m frozen, straddling him. I note the fine lines around his eyes and his visible dimple.

My God, this man is perfect.

The flawless sound dies, and I’m left with him gazing at me—appreciating the proximity of our bodies right this very second.

Realization hits that I’m in his lap inches from his hard cock I desperately want to feel.

My hands press against his hard body and when I adjust, Logan sucks in a tight breath.

He keeps a firm hold on the chair, with white knuckles, but I so desperately want him to touch me and it’s clear he’s trying his hardest not to touch me, too.

“Sora,” he whispers, his warm breath that smells like spearmint brushes my face. Did he always smell good?

With our lips so close, his eyes land on my mouth, and we stay this way for what feels like an eternity. This proves how much I want to kiss Logan. Feel his lips on mine, but I can’t. We can’t.

“I… I’m going to take a shower,” I blurt out in panic, struggling only a bit before crawling off his lap. There’s no denying the hardness that grazes over my clit as my body brushes off his. His eyes never leave mine, heated with such fire I can sense it on my skin, inside my veins, everywhere.

This time, I hold out my hand in a gesture to help him up out of the broken chair that holds him hostage. He takes it and then towers over me, opening his mouth to say something but deciding otherwise.

I sidestep him, bolting toward the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. The tension is too strong and being pressed up against Logan like that was too much. My body screams in pain from the desire swirling inside.

I turn on the shower and it spits out brown before running clear.

Awesome.

Here’s to hoping I don’t die from an infection.

Undressing with Logan so near makes things considerably worse. I’m a horny lust filled mess, and I want him—want him so badly I can finally admit the truth to myself.

Once the temperature is to my liking, I step in and close my eyes as the water pours over me.

To think, I’ll be stepping foot on the grounds I grew up on. I’m excited to see my childhood home again, but I’m also hit with a wave of sadness. If only my dad was still alive, and my mom never married that sorry excuse for a stepfather.

Opening my eyes, I see something scurry atop the tub. My scream bounces off the four walls and I shuffle to the corner of the shower away from whatever it was. Soapy suds run down my body and that’s when the door bursts open. The yelp from inside my throat is just as powerful as the scream.

Logan stands there with his chest heavily rising and falling, looking like a bull about to charge. “What happened? What’s wrong?” The panic in his voice is strong.

“There was… it was… a mouse or maybe a cockroach or I don’t know. It ran so fast I didn’t see it. But… fuck!”

He quickly scans the small area, looking for the reason for my scream, but there’s nothing. It obviously got away, and I obviously can no longer enjoy my shower. His eyes land on me and the heat flaring inside them is enough to send me to my knees.

But as the suds dissolve and slip down my slick body, I’m well aware there is nothing hiding my naked skin. I yank the shower curtain to me, and that’s when Logan spins.

“Fuck,” he says in a choked breath as he closes the door behind him.