Colliding Love - Tucker Billi...

Logan leads me back to the island by the hand, sweeps the vibrator off the counter, and takes me into his room. I know I'm a coward. I came here certain I was going to tell him everything I said and discovered with Hollyn. Then he opened the door, and all my words left me. Being completely honest with him is a risk I'm not quite ready to take.

Rather than admit the truth, I went into super supportive and loving girlfriend mode. I am those things with him, but I felt like a fraud during the conversation. At the back of my mind were all the things I should be telling him instead.

"You're sure?" he asks as he shuts his bedroom door and double checks the curtains. He's started doing this too—making sure a room is buttoned down before anything happens between us. An extra bit of security that he didn't seem conscious of before. We're also a heat score in Bellerive now, and telephoto lenses are the devil.

"I trust you." He's proven time and time again that I can put all my faith in him—at least sexually—and he won't let me down. But it feels good to say those words to a man again in any context and to know they're true. I'm not saying them because he wants or expects it.

He tosses the box on the bed, and then he sneaks his hands under my shirt, and he guides it up and over my head. My hair, which has gotten longer, skims my shoulders.

"You really are the most beautiful woman, you know that?" He plants a kiss on my shoulder before lowering one of the straps of my bra. Then he nuzzles the curve of my neck, his beard scraping gently against my skin.

My knees, which always go a little weak whenever he does this, are in danger of buckling. As though he senses it, his other arm loops around my waist, keeping me up, keeping me close.

"Being with you is a gift," I say.

"Nah." He skims his lips and tongue along my neck until he gets to my ear, and then he says in a gruff voice, "you're the irreplaceable present, and I'm going to take my time unwrapping you tonight."

"Yeah?" I whisper, distracted by how he's all around me, hands and lips and tongue, causing a cascade of sensations across my skin. With other men, I could never quite shut off my brain. With Logan, everything is instinct—response without thought. It should scare me, but I really do trust him, completely.

"You want to tell me what feels good?" He nips at the spot on my throat that always makes me moan with anticipation.

"You already know." The moan he's been working to coax out of me escapes.

"I fucking love that sound," he says, and his voice is thick with desire. Then he gets on his knees, drawing my leggings down my legs, kissing each inch of skin as he exposes it. "The only sound I love more is the little hitch of your breath just before you come. That's my drug, and I'll do anything to have it."

My leggings and panties are gone; my shirt and bra are already discarded on the floor. He's still fully clothed, and I tug his shirt over his head, tossing it toward my things.

He nudges my legs apart and then he parts me before flicking his tongue up my center and then flattening his tongue against my core. I dig my fingers into his hair, and my head falls back. Desire for him, for this, is rising quickly, just like it always does. His rough hands are firm on my ass, while his mouth devours me.

"I love the way you taste," he murmurs. "And how your knees wobble when you're headed for release. Is that what you want?" he asks, dipping one finger and then two fingers inside while he stares up at me from his knees. "Do you want me to make you come?"

"Yes," I say, breathless, but then I glance over my shoulder at the box on the bed. "But..."

"You want that?" He trails a line of kisses up my body until he's standing again, towering over me. His large hand cups the side of my face as he scrapes his beard along my neck again, causing a shiver to race along my spine and down my arms. His lips are warm and soft against my skin. In my ear, he whispers, "I got you, doc."

"I want us to come together," I say, running my fingertips along his broad back before pushing his pants off his hips to pool at his ankles.

He steps out of them before grabbing the box and removing the toy. From the nightstand, he takes out lube and a condom, putting them both on the bed. Not that we ever need lube—sometimes just the sight of him gets me unreasonably wet, and being close to him is almost always a rush of desire. Sex with him is always so good that even an inkling that it's about to happen it enough to get me ready.

"Lie back," he says, nodding at the duvet. "Let's see how far we can push you, huh?"

"You're going to make me beg?" I ask, centering myself on the bed.

"I love it when you beg." He shoots me a wicked grin before sliding off his boxers. He puts some lube on the toy and turns it on.

The buzz would be distracting if I wasn't so eager with anticipation.

"Have you used this before?" I ask.

"This one? No. You?"

I shake my head.

"Our first first," he says as he spreads me wide and runs the flat side of the toy along my most sensitive areas.

"Oh," I breathe out.

"Good?"

"Don't stop."

He lets out a little chuckle before flipping the toy around and sliding it into place—an arm inside and another branch on the outside. My whole pelvis is vibrating, and I'm having trouble thinking about anything but the sensations zipping through me.

"Logan," I say, and I can hear the plead in my tone.

"I'm right here, doc," he says, a crinkle of the condom wrapper before he's pushing my thighs further apart, lining himself up and easing in. "Fuck," he hisses out.

His forearms land on either side of my head, and the combination of the vibrations, fullness, and being surrounded by his minty scent is almost overwhelming. So much sensation. So much want. Then our gazes connect, and it's like I'm grounded, thoroughly in the moment with him. I cup his cheek, and he leans into the contact, his gaze never leaving mine.

"You're okay?" he rasps.

"I'm okay."

"I'm going to start moving." He closes his eyes briefly before meeting mine again. "You feel so good. Unbelievably good."

"I think that's the toy," I whisper.

"No," he says dropping a kiss on my forehead. "It's you. It's always you." One of his hands sneaks down to grasp my hip, while he braces his weight with his forearm, and he starts to move.

The rocking sensation paired with the vibrations is exquisite. Like nothing I've ever felt before. I clutch onto him, overcome with how amazing my body feels, and the intense pressure building in my pelvis. Not like a normal orgasm. My senses are on high and climbing higher with every thrust and retreat.

He kisses me, and I grip his ass, urging him deeper. My whole body is electrified. There are goosebumps on Logan's arms, and I want to ask, but my brain is short-circuiting.

"It's so," he mutters. "I don't know... So... God, doc."

He's never been at a loss for words before, but I know exactly what he means. I'm drunk with desire. So full of want and need that I don't think I could string a complete sentence together no matter what was at stake.

"Logan," I whimper. "It's... I'm going to..."

"Yes," he says. He brushes my hair off the side of my face, and his forehead is against mine, making the whole experience feel so much deeper and more connected than I expected.

Scary connected. Like I never want to be anywhere but here, with him. Never want any of this to end. Just me and him like this. He hitches one of my legs onto his hip, and pinpricks of anticipation dart across my skin.

"I can't," I whimper again.

"You can," he says.

But I don't know if he wants me to hold on or let go, and my brain can't form the words. Everything in me is becoming centered on how close I am to shooting off the edge—and that's what it feels like this time. As though something is building in me that'll be truly explosive. And I want it so badly, but at the same time, I just want to stay in this moment. But I don't know how much longer I can linger when my body is so primed, so ready.

"Can you?" I manage to ask.

"I'm just holding on for you, doc. Cause, fuck, you feel so good. I'm barely... I'm barely keeping it together."

"I'm close."

"Tell me."

"Oh, god," I say, clinging onto him. "Oh, god, Logan." And I hear my breath hitch, the claim he made earlier, but I barely have time to register before I'm rocked with an orgasm so powerful that my hips kick off the mattress of their own volition, and I let out a cry of pure pleasure, hips rotating with the force of my orgasm.

Logan grips my ass and pushes deeper before burying his head in my neck and letting out a deep groan of satisfaction. "You're incredible. You're so fucking incredible. I'll never get enough of this. Of you."

***

When Logan comes out of the bathroom, he flips off the light and crawls into bed with me. He tucks me against him, so my back is snug against his front. "I'm glad you're here," he murmurs against my ear.

"I overreacted at the clinic earlier. I'm sorry."

"No, I shouldn't have said anything. I don't even know what I was trying to say."

I rotate in his arms, even though it's too dark for me to see him with the curtains firmly closed and all the lights out. It just feels like I should be facing him, and I slide my hand along his bearded jaw, hoping maybe I can read something with my touch. The connectedness we just had, and the darkness now have given me the courage I lacked before.

"I want to be really clear. I'm with you because I want to be. That's the truth. I want to be here right now. Even when I'm not with you, I want to be with you. Maybe I went to that first away game because Tamiko asked me, but I stayed because of you. I stayed for you."

Logan kisses my forehead and cups the back of my head, but he doesn't interrupt me.

"And yes, I also like to be needed. But the best part about being with you is that I feel cared for and valued and protected. You are my safe place. You understand that I want to feel needed, but you'd never wield that need like a weapon. You're not going to take advantage of me, and that matters. A lot. More than you'll ever know." 

Tears pool at how true that is. Being with him is a sanctuary, and I want to be that for him too. With each other, we don't have to have our guards up because we know the other person isn't out to hurt or harm us. 

"If I haven't been making you feel like I'm choosing you, then I'm sorry. So, I want you to hear me when I say that even though you might need me, I'm in this bed with you right now because I want to be. Every road game I went to was because I wanted to be there. I see you, Logan Bishop. All of you, and I pick you. I've chosen you. Every day I choose you."

"I love you." His voice is gravely with emotion, and I wish I could see his face. "I fucking love you more than I've ever loved anyone. My heart is going bananas in my chest right now that I just told you that." He lets out a strained chuckle, and he's taken my hand to press it against his chest. "Can you feel it? Worse than your hardest cardio set."

I open my mouth, and he puts his other hand over it. I'm not even sure how he's seeing me to know where my mouth is.

"If you're going to say it back, don't. Not right now. And if you're not going to say it, I don't need to know that. Say it when you feel it, so it's not just in response to me saying it. I want to know in my gut that you really mean it—if you ever feel it."

My heart is hammering too because I never let myself think about love with Logan. Not in a real and conscious way. Earlier, he said that marriage and kids are something he envisions as ten years from now, and my biological clock is telling me that I don't want to wait that long. He'd still be a youngish dad, but I'd be an old mom, and I don't want that.

"I promise that when I say it, you'll know I mean it."

How unfair would it be to say it when I already know our timelines don't match? He's exactly the man I need in my life right now, but that doesn't change how far off our timing is. Maybe we're only meant to heal each other, so we can find whoever we're supposed to spend forever with.

That thought doesn't make me happy; it makes me so bitterly sad that tears spring to my eyes again. Seeing him with anyone else would be the deepest cut, one I don't even know how or if I could heal.

Rather than giving into my misery, I tug Logan into another kiss, a kiss that'll lead to more close contact, even if it's not the kind of closeness he craves, the kind he deserves.

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