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Logan

This woman. This brilliant woman—who could diagnose complex medical conditions and perform surgery in primitive conditions—somehow couldn’t see what was right in front of her face.

I could hardly figure out what she was talking about. She wasn’t waif thin, but who the hell cared. She was all woman and very, very definitely all fuckable woman.

So her standing there talking about being too tall, too strong, not feminine enough—each word made less sense than the last. The storm outside was picking up, rain hammering against the metal roof of our shelter, but all I could focus on was the self-doubt in those green eyes.

“You want to know what I see when I look at you?” I didn’t wait for an answer. “I see a woman who’s so beautiful it literally stops me in my tracks. Every. Single. Time.”

“Logan—”

“I’m not done.” I slid my hands down to her shoulders, feeling the strength there that she somehow thought made her less attractive. “You know what happened the first time I saw you? When you walked out of that clinic?”

She shook her head slightly, eyes searching mine.

“I forgot how to breathe. Legitimately forgot because I was too busy staring at this tall, gorgeous woman who looked like she could take on the world.” I let my hands slide down her arms, feeling the lean muscle there.

“These arms that can save lives? They’re perfect.

This height you’re so insecure about? It means I don’t have to crane my neck to kiss you. ”

To demonstrate, I leaned in and captured her mouth with mine once more. Not gentle—I kissed her again like I’d wanted to since that first day, deep and demanding, trying to communicate with actions what she wouldn’t believe in words.

When I pulled back, we were both breathing hard. Lauren’s pupils were dilated, her lips swollen, but I could still see doubt lurking in her expression.

“I’m assuming there’s some sort of ex-boyfriend who made you feel insecure about your size. Well, your ex is an idiot,” I said flatly. “And if I ever meet him, I’ll probably break his jaw for making you think you’re anything less than stunning.”

She blinked those big green eyes at me. “You don’t understand?—”

“I understand perfectly.” My hands found her waist, pulling her flush against me so she could feel exactly how much I wanted her. “You think because you’re strong, because you’re competent, because you don’t need anyone to take care of you, that somehow makes you less feminine? Less desirable?”

Her breath hitched as I pressed against her, leaving no doubt about my physical response to her.

“Let me be very clear about this.” I backed her against the wall of our shelter once more, caging her in with my arms. “The fact that you can handle yourself, that you don’t need me to protect you, that you could probably take care of yourself if I weren’t here?

That doesn’t make you less attractive. It makes you more. ”

“Patrick said?—”

“Patrick was a weak man who needed to make you feel small so he could feel big.” The words came out harsher than I intended, but I was done with her carrying that asshole’s voice in her head. “Real men aren’t threatened by strong women, Lauren. They’re turned on by them.”

I kissed her again, harder this time, one hand tangling in her hair while the other gripped her hip. She made a soft sound against my mouth, her hands coming up to clutch at my shoulders once more.

“Ever since I met you, I’ve wanted to know how it would feel to have those long legs wrapped around me,” I said against her lips.

“How your height means we fit together perfectly. How I’ve been going crazy trying to keep my distance when all I wanted was to find out if you taste as good as you look. ”

“Logan…” Her voice was breathless now, and when I pulled back to look at her, the doubt was finally starting to fade from her eyes.

“Still think I don’t want you?” I challenged.

Instead of answering, she pulled my head down and kissed me with a hunger that matched my own. She slid her hands under my shirt, nails scraping lightly against my skin, and I groaned into her mouth.

“Too many clothes,” she muttered, tugging at my shirt.

I pulled back just long enough to yank it over my head, then helped her with hers. The practical sports bra underneath shouldn’t have been sexy, but on her, it was. Everything about her was.

“See?” I ran my hands up her sides, feeling her shiver. “Perfect.”

“I’m not?—”

I silenced her with another kiss, then trailed my mouth down her throat. “Yes, you are. Every inch of you.”

My hands found the clasp of her bra, and I paused, meeting her eyes. “Tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” she breathed. “I want you .”

The bra joined our shirts on the floor, and I took a moment just to look at her. The lamplight played across her skin, highlighting the definition in her arms, the subtle strength in her frame that she thought made her less feminine.

“So fucking beautiful,” I murmured, running my hands over her skin, cupping her breasts, feeling their weight. “Everything about you is perfect.”

Her hands weren’t idle either, exploring the scars and muscles of my chest with a touch that was both curious and appreciative. When her fingers traced a particularly nasty scar from an IED, I tensed slightly.

“Does it hurt?” she asked softly.

“No.” I caught her hand, pressing it flat against my chest. “Nothing hurts when you touch me.”

It was more honesty than I’d meant to give, but something about this moment, about her, made me want to drop all my walls.

We came together again, hands and mouths exploring, the storm outside matching the intensity building between us.

I traced my hands down her body, memorizing every curve, every plane of muscle, every place that made her gasp.

When my fingers found the waistband of her pants, she helped me push them down along with her underwear, kicking them aside impatiently.

“Your turn,” she said, reaching for my belt.

I helped her with my remaining clothes, and when we were finally skin to skin, both of us groaned at the contact.

I pulled her against me, reveling in the feel of her—tall enough that we aligned perfectly, strong enough that I didn’t have to worry about being too rough, soft in all the right places despite what she believed about herself.

“I need to show you something,” I said, my voice rough with want.

Before she could ask what, I lifted her easily, her surprised gasp turning into a moan as I pressed her back against the wall. Her legs wrapped around my waist instinctively, and I held her there with one arm, letting her feel how effortlessly I could support her weight.

“Feel that?” I asked, tracing my free hand down her side. “Feel how easily I can hold you? You think you’re too heavy? Too big?” I shifted my grip, holding her higher, making her gasp. “You’re perfect. The perfect size, the perfect weight, the perfect everything.”

“Logan, please…”

“Not yet.” I was determined to make her understand. “I’ve been imagining this since the day we met. Holding you like this. Feeling your legs around me. Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are?”

I shifted my hips, letting her feel exactly how much I wanted her, and she moaned, her head falling back against the wall. I took advantage, kissing down her throat, across her collarbone, lower.

“I have an IUD. We don’t need to worry about birth control. Unless you’re worried about it.”

I leaned my forehead against hers. “Thank God. And no, I’m not worried about transmitting anything. I have been with a woman in quite a while now—over a year.”

Her eyes got wide. “Why?”

Because dating freaked me out and generally required me to be in public around other people repeatedly, which did a number on my PTSD. “Job keeps me busy. Sometimes it’s not worth the effort to try to find someone to date.”

“I understand that. Kind of the same with me.”

“Good. I’ve noticed you’re not a casual type of person.”

“Yeah?”

“I notice everything about you.” I pressed her farther against the wall. “Like how you bite your lip when you’re concentrating. How you push your hair back when you’re frustrated. How your whole face lights up when you help someone. How fucking beautiful you are when you think no one’s looking.”

“Logan…”

“And this?” I adjusted my grip again, demonstrating how easily I could move her, angle her. “This is what I’ve been dreaming about. Having you in my arms like this. Showing you exactly how perfect you are.”

When I finally positioned myself at her entrance, we both stilled for a moment, eyes locked. The storm raged outside, but inside, there was only us, only this moment.

“Please,” she whispered. “I want you.”

I pushed inside her slowly, watching her face, cataloging every expression as her body adjusted to mine. The feeling was indescribable—hot, tight, perfect. Like she’d been made for me.

“Fuck,” I breathed against her neck. “So perfect, Lauren. So fucking perfect.”

She was gripping my shoulders, nails digging in as I began to move. Each thrust pressed her back against the wall, and I reveled in the sounds she made—soft gasps and moans that grew louder as I found the angle that made her whole body tense.

“That’s it,” I encouraged, using my grip on her hips to control the pace, the depth. “Let me hear you. Let me feel you.”

Her legs tightened around me as I moved faster, deeper. I could feel her getting close, her inner muscles beginning to flutter around me. The fact that I was holding her entire weight, that she was completely supported by my strength, seemed to finally be sinking in.

“Still think you’re too heavy?” I asked, my voice rough as I thrust particularly deep. “Still think you’re not feminine enough when you’re wrapped around me like this?”

“No,” she gasped. “God, no. Logan, I’m going to?—”

“Good.” I could feel it building in her, the tension coiling tighter. “Let go, beautiful. I’ve got you. I won’t let you down.”

She came with a cry that she muffled against my shoulder, her whole body shuddering in my arms. The feeling of her clenching around me, the complete trust as she let go while I held her—it was almost enough to send me over the edge.

But I wasn’t done proving my point yet.

I carried her to the blanket we’d laid out, still inside her, still hard. Her eyes went wide as I lowered us down without breaking our connection, ending up with her straddling my lap.

“We’re not done,” I said, running my hands up her thighs, over her hips, up to cup her breasts. “Not even close.”

The new position let me see all of her, touch all of her. I watched in fascination as she began to move, finding her rhythm, taking control. Her earlier insecurities seemed forgotten as she rode me, head thrown back, completely lost in pleasure, clutching my shoulders.

“So fucking beautiful,” I said, meaning every word. “Look at you. Taking what you need. Strong and soft and absolutely perfect.”

My hands guided her hips, helping her find the angle that made her gasp. I could feel myself getting close, the sight of her above me, the feeling of her around me, threatening to push me over the edge.

“One more,” I urged, sliding a hand between us to find that delicate bundle of nerves. “Give me one more, Lauren.”

She was already sensitive from her first orgasm, and it didn’t take long before she was tensing again, my name falling from her lips like a prayer. This time, I let myself follow her over, pulling her down for a deep kiss as I came inside her.

We collapsed together, both breathing hard, bodies still joined. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we came down from the high.

“Believe me now?” I asked when I could speak again.

She laughed softly, the sound vibrating through both of us. “You made your point pretty thoroughly.”

“Good.” I kissed her temple, then her cheek, then her lips. “Because I meant every word. You’re beautiful, Lauren. Sexy. Feminine. Perfect. And if I need to spend the rest of this storm proving it to you, I will.”

She hummed contentedly, tracing lazy patterns on my chest. “The storm could last a while.”

“I’m counting on it.”

We lay there in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the wind and rain outside. Lauren’s weight on top of me felt right, natural. Like she belonged there.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“For what?”

“For seeing me.” She pressed a kiss to my chest. “Really seeing me. Not the version Patrick saw, or the version I convinced myself was true. But actually seeing me .”

I tightened my arms around her. “Thank your ex for being an idiot. Made it easier for me to show you what you’re really worth.”

She laughed again. “That’s one way to look at it.”

Eventually, we shifted to lie side by side, Lauren tucked against me with her head on my shoulder. The storm continued to rage outside. Not long from now, we’d be running for our lives again, but right now, inside our little shelter, everything was at peace.