“You look pretty strong,” she said, squeezing his bicep.
“I’m no body builder, but—”
“How about a body lifter? My body, I mean.”
He smiled. “Not a problem.” Although if she kept on with those strokes, he might not make it past putting on the condom. “Wait, I need a—”
She grinned. “You put them on the amenities tray.”
“Don’t go anywhere,” he said, and reluctantly removed her hand while he went to grab the condoms.
Kensey had stayed right where she was, but she hadn’t wasted the few seconds he’d been gone. She’d been touching herself.
Damn. It was smoking hot.
He kissed her, hard, lifting her arms around his neck, then reaching under those gorgeous thighs and lifting her into position. Once he felt sure of his hold, he kissed her. Her lips were right there, so how could he skip that? A few minutes later, he said, “Reach between us? Guide me home?”
The look she gave him was meltingly hot, but her hand was already moving. This maneuver could be tricky, and just in case she lost her balance, he moved them close to the wall.
Although she was slim, she wasn’t tiny, but she felt great in his arms. She moaned and laughed, then took his sheathed cock and guided him in the right direction. By the time she released him, he was good to go.
She tightened her legs around his hips, her arms around his neck.
“This will only be chilly for a moment,” he said, surprised that his voice was so rough. He moved to the right, until the massaging jets hit him on the back, before he turned them around. Now, they were both getting the full experience of the overhead rain, and while he braced himself against the tiles, she would enjoy the massage.
He hoped that wouldn’t be the best thing she felt.
“You’re a genius,” she said, raising herself up an inch or so, then relaxing her legs.
“And you’re a gymnast,” he said.
She laughed, and then started to ride him in earnest. He could feel her glutes tighten, which made her inner muscles squeeze him until he had to recite a few football stats so it wouldn’t end yet.
But he didn’t want her doing all the work. He was able to push in further, and she was free to concentrate on the right muscles.
“Good God, this is...” She finished the thought with a cry that made him forget his own name.
“We make beautiful music together, don’t you think?”
“I can’t carry a tune.”
“You are so wrong,” he said. “This is a symphony.”
She let out a laugh, and they lost the rhythm, but only for a moment.
“You don’t believe me? Listen.”
She closed her eyes as he kept the pace languorous and sweet. He could tell the moment she heard a very real symphony coming from the hidden speakers all around them.
“Oh,” she said. “Do you know this piece?”
“Not a clue. I just know we’re conducting.”
Her kiss was her agreement, and it spurred him to adjust her position. It wasn’t easy, but she yelped when he hit the bull’s-eye. Now when he lifted her and let her drop, he rubbed against her clit. The sounds she made were all he could hear. The panting Ohs, and then his name. Not just once. Escalating, as he went for broke. He didn’t have long, but she fell apart first. Seconds before him.
And didn’t that feel better than anything he could remember.
12
IT TOOK A long time for Kensey to catch her breath and find her feet as he let her down. Part of it was due to the raw sensations that still made her body thrum. It was amazing to her how in sync they’d been with each other. It had been effortless, which was at once thrilling and frightening.
When they’d been face-to-face, inches away from each other, something in her heart had shifted.
“You okay?”
Kensey turned her head to look at him. They were both leaning against the cold tile while the panel of jets blasted hot water across the wide shower to keep them warm in front. “Very okay. You?”
He grinned, then he leaned over to kiss her. “I’m waterlogged. How do you feel about moving this to the bedroom?”
She nodded, although this was a great stopping place. Truth was, she wanted to stay in bed with him. But she couldn’t use Logan as a place to hide. She needed to figure out her next move with Holstrom, even though the thought made her queasy.
She turned off the shower while he went to gather towels. When they met up, he’d tied a small towel around his waist. The bath sheet in his hands was for her.
He wrapped the towel around her and started drying her body with it. It was tender and sexy all at once.
She grabbed a smaller towel for her hair, and he asked her to rate the showerheads from one to ten. It turned out to be a lot harder than she’d imagined, especially when he showed his disagreement by squeezing her butt or her boobs and making an obnoxious buzzer sound. She loved how they could go from being so passionate to flat-out silly in a matter of minutes. She surprised him, giving Logan Jr. a squeeze when Logan ranked the crisscross shower mists more highly than the massage jets. But they both gave the giant rain shower top marks.
With both of them reasonably dry and her bed calling to them, she took Logan’s hand and led him into the adjacent room. The walls were soft again: pastel waves of blues, greens and purples. It was like being under the ocean, especially with the ceiling full of cotton-ball clouds dotting a perfect sky.
Dropping their towels, they scooted under the covers and made themselves a little nest in the center of the mattress. Logan’s arms went around her, and her leg went over his thigh, touching as many places as possible.
Logan kissed her, ran his hand down her back, pressed close. He wasn’t hard or anything, but that was fine. She liked this type of snuggling. Soft, sweet. The scent that had infused the room was intriguing.
“Petrichor,” she said, happy she’d remembered the name.
“Am I supposed to make up a word now? Quomalin.”
“No. Petrichor is the scent of the earth after a rain shower.”
“Really? That’s an excellent word. And you’re right. That is what we’re smelling.” He turned his head toward the wall. “Good job, scent computer.”
“Oh, you think it hears you? Dear God, I’ll never make another sound.”
“I think it’s pretty safe.”
She didn’t have a ton of experience with men. She had too much to hide to let herself get too close to anyone. But if she could, she would like to have more of this. Of him. Maybe in New York?
It would be foolish to become invested in that idea, though.
“Where did you find your love of art?” he asked. “Boarding school?”
She shook her head. “My father,” she said, and for the first time in years, she thought of him kindly. “He was so passionate about art that he wanted me to love it the way he did. With his whole heart. He used to take me to museums where he taught me to see that every painting has a story. How each person sees the work through their own experiences, so every story is different.”
“That’s...huh. The way you look when you talk about art makes me want to know more. I have zero experience with the arts. My family was amazingly boring.”
“Are you close to them?”
“My parents? Nope. They live in South Carolina. We don’t talk much. I gather you’re close to your father?”
“I haven’t seen him in a long time. And my mother died when I was young.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said. It was. Her mother wasn’t a hot button.
“I haven’t seen my folks for a while, either,” he said, as he pushed back the stray hair she’d been seeing in her peripheral vision. “They’re really into golf. It’s all they do.”
“How did you end up in the military?”
“It was a teacher, actually. In middle school. He loved everything about the service, although he was disabled and couldn’t join up.”
“Does he know that he inspired you?”
“No. He died when I was in boot camp.”
“Sorry.”
Logan shrugged. “He was great. I took to the army like a duck to water. I liked the discipline. The push to be a great soldier was very strong in me. I liked the challenge. So when I was recruited, I went for it.”
“Why did they come for you?”
“I have a facility for languages. And trust me, I have no idea—”
Her phone rang. She couldn’t afford not to get it. “Hold that thought?”
She went to her purse, which was on a chair alongside her briefcase. When she looked at the text, her heart started racing.
She felt nervous, of course, but also relieved. Holstrom had solved the problem of how she would meet him next. Unfortunately, it meant leaving the bed and Logan, which she was loath to do, but Holstrom was why she’d come to Boston.
“What is it?”
“I’m sorry. I was hoping... But I do have to go. I really do.” She saw the disappointment in his face and thought once again how life could be so damn unfair. “You’ll have to excuse me because I need to get dressed,” she said and had to turn away.
* * *
HE NEEDED TO let this go already. Halfway to the hotel, and he was still gnawing on a dry bone.
Kensey had told him ahead of time that she might be called away, and it had happened. All he could think about was being shooed out of her room. One minute, he’d been completely relaxed and exactly where he wanted to be; the next, her door had closed behind him. He hadn’t even collected the clothes he’d had on.