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.Logan turned from what he was doing to watch me, the lighter still in his hand.As his eyes met mine, I bent down and deliberately unzipped one boot, then the other, and stepped out of them.The tights I wore came off next.After that, I undid the ties on my sweater and removed it before pulling down the zipper on my skirt and climbing out of it as well.Then I stood in front of him in only my bra and panties, black this time, with silver-edged lace.For the longest moment he didn’t do anything, didn’t say anything, but only stared at me, eyes fixed on mine.I could see the Adam’s apple in his throat move as he swallowed.At last, though, he set down the lighter and stepped toward me, his form silhouetted by the flames of the growing fire at his back.When he did speak, his voice was barely a whisper.“I never thought I could want anything — could need anything — the way I want you.”He crushed me against him then, hands running down my bare arms before moving on to rest on the curve of my hips.His fingers curled around me, holding me close.Even through his jeans I could feel his arousal, and I needed him then, needed him to be free of his clothing the way I was.I undid his belt buckle, then pulled his shirt out of his jeans, and yanked both his sweater and his shirt over his head.There was still the matter of those lace-ups he wore, though, so I sank to my knees and untied his shoes as quickly as I could.He kicked them off, and then I was able to pull down his Levi’s, maneuver his briefs over the bulge of his erection so he was at last gloriously naked, smooth skin warmed by the firelight.Since I was already on my knees, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to take him into my mouth, run my tongue over his silky skin and feel how very hard the flesh beneath was.He groaned, one hand running through my hair, the other tightening on my shoulder.“Grace.”It was something between a moan and a sigh.I glanced upward and saw how his eyes had shut, how thick his lashes were against the high cheekbones.I knew I could take him all the way with this if I wanted, but that wasn’t my plan.Only to please him, maybe tease him a little bit, and then….He seemed to guess what I was thinking, because after a few minutes he gasped and pulled away from me, then sank down onto the quilt, bringing me with him, lifting me so I was straddling him, sinking down onto him, letting him fill me even more completely than he had the night before.And I was riding him, letting out gasps of my own with each thrust, my hands planted on the quilts beneath us to steady myself.I’d never been very noisy during sex before, but now I could hear myself crying out as we moved together, as I felt the heat and the pressure and the need building in me.Maybe at some other time I would’ve worried about the neighbors overhearing us, even though the house was shut tight.Not now.Now I could only move with Logan, with each thrust and each drawing out, until the climax burst through me with volcanic heat, my body shaking as I sobbed his name over and over again.And then I could feel him coming as well, his rhythm faltering as he shuddered through his own orgasm.My strength seemed to leave me, and I pushed myself off him so I could collapse on the quilt, my breath coming from me in little heaving gasps.He lay there without moving for a second or two, and then he reached over and pulled me against him.“You are perfect,” he whispered.“So are you,” I said, and in that moment I knew it was the simple truth.Or at least, he was perfect for me.We dozed off in front of the fire, still wrapped in each other’s arms, and then an hour or so later woke up enough to put on some underwear and get cleaned up and ready for bed.No discussion of where we would sleep; he crawled into bed next to me as if he’d been doing the same thing his entire life.And if I had any say in the matter, he would sleep next to me for the rest of his life.* * *The next morning we got up and puttered around like any ordinary couple might — making coffee, eating the last of the croissants, making plans to go to the store so we could get some real food.Afterward, we squeezed into the shower together even though it really wasn’t large enough to accommodate both of us, and laughed as we tried to soap up one another and not get an elbow in the ribs or an eye full of shampoo, or whatever.By ten-thirty we were dressed and ready to head out the door.Logan had acquitted himself well enough last night and at the shopping expedition the day before that I wasn’t too concerned about going out in public with him…really going out in public, to a grocery store where the clerks actually knew me and my showing up with an eye-popping specimen like my hybrid soldier was sure to raise a few eyebrows, if not elicit even more than a few questions.I thought we were both ready for it.Or at least, I hoped we were.Just as I was gathering up my purse, though, the doorbell rang.I paused, wondering who it might be, then shrugged.Possibly my mother, coming by with a care package of leftovers.Since she knew Logan was staying with me, I didn’t think her dropping by was that big a deal.Also, because we were on our way out the door, we had a good excuse for not lingering and chatting.When I opened the door, however, it wasn’t my mother waiting on the doorstep, but Aunt Kirsten and Uncle Martin, both of them looking dead serious and not very holiday-ish at all.“Um…hi,” I said, too surprised to come up with anything more eloquent than that.“Can we come in?” my aunt asked, and I saw her gaze slip past me to Logan, who was standing a foot or two behind me in the entryway.“We need to talk to you…to both of you.”Chapter EightWe all sat in the living room, Logan and I on the couch, Aunt Kirsten in one of the occasional chairs and Uncle Martin in the other.He, too, looked businesslike, almost grim, and I knew this wasn’t exactly a social call.Still, I attempted to hold off the dreaded discussion as long as I could
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