Page 122 of Exposing Colorado

“What are you—” My words cut off into a shocked yelp when he licks a wet line from clit to crack, and then he devours my ass like it’s his last fucking meal. All it takes is one soft touch on my clit before I’m moaning through another orgasm on his tongue.

“Logan! Warn a girl next time, holy shit.”

“I always wanted to do that,” he laughs, wiping his filthy mouth before collapsing onto the bed beside me. When his eyes meet mine, he does a double-take. A slow grin spreads across his face. “Are you… blushing?”

I huff, turning around to hide my flaming cheeks in my arms. “No, it's called afterglow. You made me come so hard.”

“Yeah, I did.”

Despite rolling my eyes, I can't help but smile at the pride in his voice.

When I look at him again, our gazes lock. His expression softens as he reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Was it good, then? The honeymoon you always dreamed of?”

Emotion swells in my throat, and I have to clear it a few times in order to answer. “I never dreamed of having one, but if I did… yeah. It would be just like this. Just me and you.”

Logan leans in to press his forehead to mine. We breathe each other in, his fingers trailing up and down my back. “For what it's worth,” he murmurs, kissing the tip of my nose, “you would have made a beautiful bride. I'm glad you were my wife, even for just a moment.”

I try to blink away the tears that spring to my eyes, but it’s useless. They slide down my cheeks against my will as I press closer to the man I loved enough to let go. “Me too. If it had to be anyone, Logan… I'm happy it was you.”

Chapter

Fifty

Logan

After a quick dip in the hot tub—and more I thought you were dead sex—Salem and I eventually make our way down to the beach to join our friends. My legs are shaky, either from my still weak muscles, the numerous positions Salem and I tried, or the fact that she’s holding my hand.

Xed and Matty lay stretched out on the sand, apparently too cool for swimming. Huck is teaching Hannah to surf in the waves. When we draw closer, Taylor looks up from the lopsided sandcastle he's building with Christian—and immediately drops his attention to our entwined hands.

“Oh, thank fuck,” he nearly shouts, brushing sand off his arms. “Is the fight over, then? Are Mom and Dad back together?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Salem scoffs. “We’re just calling a temporary truce.”

I study her from the corner of my eye. “Truce, huh?”

She lifts a shoulder, the sunlight catching on her lashes when she gives me a heated look. “Figured I should at least be civil with you after I fuck you.”

“Pretty sure I was the one who did all the fucking. You laid there like a dead fish.”

“I did not!” She raises a fist to punch my shoulder, but I twist out of the attack and tug her against my chest.

“Damn.” Taylor whistles low, watching our interaction. “Guy comes back from the dead and grows a set of balls. Salem would have killed me for that comment.”

She tosses him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “I still might, Taytortot. Keep talking.”

“Noted,” he coughs, raising both hands in surrender.

Shit, that reminds me. “Speaking of fish, where is mine? Did you kidnap him?”

My wife wriggles in my arms. “Can't exactly take a goldfish on a plane. My neighbors are watching him until I get back.”

“Good. He probably misses me. Bet he never doubted I'd come back, unlike everyone else.”

There’s a collective groan from the group and Christian tips his sunglasses down to squint at me. “Come on, hermano, don't be salty. We thought you'd left us for Jesus.”

Salem snorts, but there’s a catch in it, the kind that makes me want to cradle her face and promise I’ll never go anywhere again. “I never doubted you,” she whispers.

That quiet admission sucker punches me harder than anything else these past few months.