Her nails bit into his back. “Because five years of foreplay is too long.”
“Five years?” Carefully avoiding her bruised jaw, he nuzzled the soft skin below her ear, inhaling her smooth, fresh perfume and the sharper tang of her earlier stress. If nothing else reinforced his need to take his time, this reminder of what she’d been through tonight did. “Is that what we’ve been doing all this time?”
“Of course.” She adjusted the angle of her head to grant him better access to her neck.
“How do you figure?”
“You don’t seriously think all that animosity between us was anything other than frustrated sexual energy, do you?”
He knew what it had been on his part, but was surprised she admitted to being similarly afflicted. “Are you saying you’ve wanted me this whole time?”
He tried to make his voice sound shocked, but ended up fighting a groan as she found a way to free her left leg from beneath him. By bending her knee, she was able to shift his hips into the perfect V between her thighs. Her intimate heat pressed against his hip even through the layers of fabric between them. Breath rasping in and out of his lungs, he held perfectly still to savor the sensation.
“Of course.”
He believed her because whenever they touched, the walls tumbled down between them. And in this place where they communicated truth as easily with words as they did with their bodies, he was in serious danger of falling hard.
Was that why he’d doubted and taunted her all these years? Because he suspected that if they had a civil conversation he might have to face just how crazy he was about her? All her flaws became insignificant. All his misgivings seemed to be paranoia.
“Make love to me, Logan,” she pleaded when the silence dragged on too long. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”
“I want nothing more,” he admitted. “But let’s take it slow.”
“Slow?” She didn’t look happy.
“Slow,” he confirmed. “You’re worth savoring. Relax.” He reclaimed her lips and soothed her with soft, romantic kisses. “We have all night.”
* * *
Scarlett put her impatience aside and let Logan set the pace. The ache between her thighs didn’t abate, but neither did it intensify as they exchanged a series of slow, sweet kisses. The give-and-take of his lips against hers was comforting and the fog of desire dissipated from her mind, offering her a chance to enjoy the feel of his strong body where it pressed against hers and the subtle cologne he’d applied for their date tonight. She concentrated on relaxing her muscles, ignoring the hunger needling her. Logan was right. They’d waited this long. Why rush it?
His kisses did unexpected things to her emotions. Lighter than soap bubbles, joy pushed outward from her center. Logan made her feel like no other man ever had. Cherished. Appreciated. Understood. The excitement she’d expected to feel as his body mastered hers was tempered by the need to relish every second of their time together.
“Why are you smiling?” Logan asked, drifting his lips across her eyelids and down her nose.
“I’ve never necked on the couch like this.”
“Never?” Surprise peppered Logan’s question. “I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true. Necking is something you do with your boyfriend on your parents’ couch or in the back of your boyfriend’s car.”
“Seems to me you had both a boyfriend and access to a couch and car.”
“I wasn’t a normal teenager. For one thing, I didn’t go to regular school. I had tutors and studied between scenes. For another, my boyfriend at the time liked partying with friends and hitting the club.” Not kicking back and hanging out alone with his girlfriend.
“Oh, right, you were dating that boy-band reject back then.”
Hearing Logan’s derision, Scarlett wished she’d kept her mouth shut, but now that the door was open, she might as well step through.
“We started dating when we were fifteen.” Lost in girlish, idealistic fantasies about love, she’d relished their role as America’s sweethearts, but their private interaction wasn’t nearly as romantic as their public one. “After being fired from That’s Our Hilary because my image was becoming too sexy and getting offered nothing but vampy bad-girl parts, I tried to clean up my image by trotting out this vow of chastity until I got married.” The armies of paparazzi following them had eaten it up. Reacting the way any normal eighteen-year-old boy would, Will had dumped her.
“You’re a virgin?” Logan did a lousy job hiding his amusement behind mock surprise.