His breath hitches, and my breathing matches his, quickening with anticipation. 
"I'm going to savor this first one," he murmurs, his minty fresh breath skimming across my lips a millisecond before we connect. 
His lips are soft, exploratory, as though we've got all the time in the world, and he's going to map every curve and angle of this first time. Lock it into his memory for later. 
God knows I'm locking it into mine.
I've never been kissed with such intention, such reverence, as though the person I'm with can't believe they get to do this, but also very clearly feel entitled to the full experience. It's a kiss that sends heat to every peak and valley of my body, escalating my desire, which already felt insanely high.
"Please," I whisper against his lips, and I don't even know what I'm asking for, but he does.
He changes the angle of the kiss, tightening his grip on me, dipping his tongue into my mouth. Kisses with tongue have never been my thing, but I realize as he's kissing me that every other guy was doing it wrong. This. This is the right way. Exploring. Mapping. Discovering uncharted territory. I grip the back of his head, wishing I could just do this with him forever. 
But god, if a kiss is this good, I can't even imagine what else the rest of the night will hold. 
I push his suit jacket off his shoulders, and it falls to the ground. Before I can continue stripping him, Logan's hands slip under my tank top, one sliding along my back and up to the nape of my neck, holding me in place while the other spans my lower back as he kisses me again. The skin-to-skin contact is so good and not nearly enough.
I tug his dress shirt out of his pants, fumble for the buckle on his belt, pop open the button, and I draw the zipper down. It's impossible to get close enough fast enough.
"Doc," he rasps, one hand still on my nape and the other down the back of my shorts, gripping my ass. "I'm savoring. I get one shot at a first impression, and I'm not rushing anything."
"You're doing great so far," I say, almost panting with want.
"We're just getting started," he says, and I push his dress pants down to pool at his ankles. 
"I'm not sure we need to savor everything the first time," I say, kissing his neck.
He plants his hands just under my ass and urges me into his arms. With a little jump, he's got me wrapped around him as he starts to walk. "Where?"
"Down that hall," I say, pointing to the one that leads to the primary suite. Then I lick a line up his neck, the way I've been thinking about for weeks. 
He chuckles and then shifts so that he's somehow got me cradled in one arm while his other hand is back in my hair, leading me into another kiss. 
Every man should go to the Logan Bishop school of kissing. I've never wanted anyone this badly after a single kiss. Stripping him naked and riding him until both of us come apart in the best possible way consumes my thoughts.
When we get to my room, he flips on the lights, and when I try to reach around him to flip them off, he says, "I'm savoring, which means I need to see what I'm eating."
"You don't have to—"
"I want to, and I will." He lays me back on the bed, and the proof that he wants me as badly as I want him is starkly outlined against his boxer-briefs when he steps back. There's a good chance I might be a little intimidated when those come off. 
I take the chance to undo the buttons on his dress shirt, and he discards it, tossing it away from the bed. 
"Fuck, you're gorgeous. Never have I laid eyes on any woman even close to as beautiful as you." He kisses a line from my hip to my breasts. "When I showed up tonight and your nipples were already puckered under your thin tank top, I didn't think I had a hope in hell of getting out of that front entrance without doing everything my dirty, dirty mind has been dying to do for weeks." He flicks his tongue over my thin nightshirt, coating one of the pebbled peaks.