From Enemies to Expecting(34)

When he’d buried himself inside completely, he sucked in a breath and froze, bliss stealing across his features. “You feel so amazing.”

How was he forming coherent sentences? Her own body had wheeled off into the stratosphere, greedily sucking in all the new sensations as he began to move, circling his hips as he thrust. She couldn’t have stopped the moans pouring from her throat at gunpoint and she didn’t want to. He murmured his encouragement with well-placed phrases as they came together again and again.

The best was when he wrapped her leg around his waist and let go of her stiletto in favor of cupping her jaw. But he didn’t kiss her, just watched her as he plunged deep inside, his eyes dark and focused. Fingers tangled in his hair, she couldn’t look away, even when his face tightened and turned tender with release. It was so powerful to witness such a strong man showing his vulnerability that she nearly came apart inside.

When was the last time she’d done it missionary style? It was her least favorite position—or at least it had been until Logan.

He made it exquisite, an experience. Not just sex, but pleasure combined with connection, both beautiful and precious.

This was what she fantasized about. A man who would be the same in bed or out, day in and day out. Still there in the morning. Strong, capable. Honest. One who cared about her over his own selfish needs.

She fantasized about being loved.

And she’d spent the last few years of her life systematically ensuring she’d never have to think about the fact that she didn’t have that, wasn’t capable of having that.

Which meant she had to shove that particular fantasy back into the deep. Where it belonged.

* * *

The pictures from outside Trinity’s door the night before shot their fake relationship into the stratosphere.

Apparently some of the photographers from the lobby had followed them after all.

Logan downed the first of what would likely be many cups of coffee that morning as he ate breakfast in the small dining room of the hotel restaurant and reread the email from Myra crowing about his brilliant strategy to be photographed kissing Trinity outside her hotel room.

If you could call it that. Strategy hadn’t been forefront in his mind. And it was hard to label it something as innocuous as a kiss.

The scene was almost pornographic, raw and sensual, and the photographer had timed it perfectly to show Trinity’s card key clutched in his fingers as he searched blindly for the slot without even lifting his mouth from hers. The urgency burned visibly between them.

He almost couldn’t look at the picture. It was too much truth, too intimate. Had Trinity known a photographer had followed them upstairs? Was that the only reason she’d given him the green light?

Last night had been real—to him, anyway. As real as the ache in his elbow from the vigorous activity, which had caused his old injury to flare up. And it didn’t sit well that something so personal had been captured and then turned into a marketing gimmick by his and Trinity’s respective publicists.

But that’s what they’d been doing all along. Why was this picture different? He didn’t like the answer. Or the kick to his stomach as he glanced up to see Trinity breeze into the restaurant and take a seat at his table without so much as a hello.

God, she was gorgeous. Even with an inch-wide green stripe running down the nonshaved side of her hair. He was almost accustomed to the heavy hand she used to apply her cosmetics, and honestly, it was part of the overt style that bled from her pores. She wore a flowy, hair-stripe-matching grass-green dress that covered her to her calves and tied up around her neck. She looked so sizzling hot that he had his suit jacket unbuttoned before he realized he’d been about to take it off so he could cover her up with it.

Moron. She’d shredded his brain cells last night.

It was a very respectable dress. It was what was under the dress that got him, and he didn’t just mean the body. Trinity was fierce on the outside, but when he’d gotten her behind closed doors, she’d melted into his arms, becoming so sweet and impassioned he could hardly fathom it.

That had been a huge surprise. And all he wanted to do this morning was pull her into his lap and stick his nose into that juncture of her neck and shoulder, where it most smelled like her. Then he’d start peeling back her outrageous shell again.

“Lara called me already,” Trinity said as she smiled at the waitress and ordered coffee. “My publicist. She’s thrilled with the traffic on our website. I have a couple of calls in to Alex to get some prelim sales numbers now that it’s close enough to the end of the month to have the data.”

“Good morning to you, too,” he said and almost didn’t choke on it.