Page 27 of The Risk Taker

“You should relax more,” he says, stepping closer. “Let someone take care of you for once.”

He closes the space between us, his fingers finding my chest, tracing the edge of my collarbone before sliding lower. It’s not even much of a touch, just a graze, but it’s enough to make every inch of me freeze. His skin is warm against mine, and I’m so hyperaware that I should move away, but I don’t. I can’t.

He studies me for a moment, his eyes searching my face before they dip to my mouth.

He leans in, slow enough that I could stop him if I wanted to—which, apparently, I don’t. His nose brushes the side of my jaw, his breath warm when he murmurs, “I wanna see what you look like when you fall apart.”

And then he kisses me.

His mouth is warm and so soft, and the kiss is messy and wet and fucking hungry, his tongue sliding into my mouth like he’s done it a thousand times before.

He exhales against my jaw, the sound rough, vibrating against my skin before he finds my mouth again, kissing me harder, licking into me like he owns me. Like he knows every inch of me, knows how I like to be touched. One hand comes up to the back of my neck, his fingers curling there, pulling me in until we’re chest to chest, hip to hip.

My hands go to his waist without thinking, dragging him closer, and he lets out this broken sound against my mouth, like he’s been holding it in for too long.

My hands slide down his bare back, digging in and pulling him closer. His skin is hot under my fingers. My hips stutter against his, and he groans, loud and raw, and I feel it in my fucking spine.

I don’t know what the hell is happening, and I know I should pull back, should say something, stop this before it spins any further out of control.

But instead, I tighten my grip and kiss him harder.

He’s solid against me. His hips grind into mine, and I feel the hard press of him against me through the thin cotton of his boxers.

I don’t even care how we got here, all I care about is the way Logan’s voice breaks against my mouth, and I never want it to stop.

“Fuck,” I manage, sinking my teeth into his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Logan whispers back, his breath hitching. “Just like that.” He kisses me harder, his hands roaming everywhere. On my chest, my waist, my face, like he can’t decide what to touch first. “Fuck, Nathan.”

His mouth finds my neck, sucking just below my ear. I claw at his back, urging him closer, chasing the contact. He groansagain, rocking harder, deeper into me and my body arches up to meet him, chasing every bit of friction.

It’s too much.

Too good.

Too—

I jolt upright with a strangled sound, my chest heaving as my eyes dart around the dark room. It’s quiet, still, and completely fucking empty.

There’s no Logan. Just me. And the sound of my own heavy breathing filling the silence.

I sit there for a second, trying to catch my breath, the sheets sticking to my skin, my pulse still racing like I just sprinted laps.

My brain’s trying to keep up with my body, but all I can see—all I canfeel—is him.

The weight of Logan’s body pressed against mine. The sound he made when I bit down on his shoulder.

The way it felt so goddamn real.

I drag a hand over my face. “Jesus Christ,” I mutter into the darkness.

The sheets are twisted around my legs, damp with sweat. My boxers are uncomfortably sticky, and I’m somehow still hard. So hard it aches.

I shove both hands through my hair, leaning forward to place my elbows on my knees, trying to breathe through it.

What the fuck.

I scrub at my eyes like I can erase the dream, but it’s useless. It’s burned into my brain. Every goddamn detail.