Emma’s POV
I didn’t think. I didn’t hesitate.
The moment our lips met, it was like a surge of electricity, a raw, unapologetic collision of need.
My body surrendered to him entirely, every ounce of resistance melting away as Logan’s hands claimed me with a desperation that left me breathless. His palms slid down my waist, fingers digging into the soft curve of my hips, pulling me hard against him, the heat of his lap pressing into me, a silent promise of what was to come. His lips were relentless, parting mine with a hunger that made my head spin, his tongue teasing, tasting, claiming.
His fingers tangled in my hair, tugging just enough to send a shiver down my spine as he tilted my head back, his mouth trailing a blazing path down my jaw, nipping lightly at my throat before his teeth grazed the delicate skin there. I gasped, my nails clawing at the fabric of his shirt, desperate to feel more of him. His hand slipped beneath the hem of my top, his fingertips skimming my bare skin, sending waves of heat coursing through me.
“Emma,” he rasped against my neck, his voice low and gravelly, thick with desire.
The way he said my name, like it was both a plea and a command, made something primal ignite inside me. My hands were frantic now, sliding under his hoodie, mapping the hard planes of his stomach, feeling the way his muscles tightened beneath my touch.
Logan groaned, deep and guttural, his grip on my hip tightening as if he was barely holding himself back. “This isn’t enough,” he murmured, his lips brushing over my collarbone, lingering there like he was savoring the taste of my skin.
His hand moved higher, cupping my breast, his thumb circling the hardening peak through the fabric of my bra, making me arch into him with a moan.
His mouth returned to mine, capturing my lips in a kiss that was almost violent in its intensity. His tongue pushed past my lips, exploring, dominating, leaving no part of me untouched. My hands roamed lower, fumbling with the waistband of his jeans, eager to feel the evidence of his need for me.
Just as my fingers grazed the button of his pants, a sharp knock at the door shattered the moment.
“Logan? I’m home!”
Logan’s POV
Fuck.
Emma bolted off me like she’d been burned, her eyes wide with panic as she scrambled to fix her clothes.
I dragged a shaking hand through my hair, fighting off the frustration curling in my stomach as I tried to get my breathing under control.
“Yeah, Mom!” I shouted, trying not to sound like I’d just had the best damn kiss of my life.
I heard her footsteps fade, and finally let out the breath I was holding, grinning despite myself.
“Well,” I muttered, my voice still rough, still thick with everything I hadn’t been able to do to her. “That was close.”
Emma gawked at me. “This isn’t funny!”
I couldn’t help it—I laughed.
“Come on, Em.” I reached for her hand, fingers brushing hers, watching the way she shivered at the contact. She could deny it all she wanted, but I felt the way she trembled. I saw the way she looked at me. “You can’t tell me that wasn’t worth it.”
Her lips parted. She didn’t deny it.
She just stood there, breathless, cheeks flushed, her hair still messy from my hands. And for a second—just a second—she looked at me like she wanted to kiss me all over again.
But then she looked away, biting her lip, like she hated herself for wanting me.
And I hated that.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said suddenly, my voice steady now. Not a question. Not a suggestion. A dare.
Her lips parted slightly, hesitating—but not saying no.
And that?
That was all the answer I needed.