Page 23 of No First Kisses

“It’s only ever been you for me, Poppy.” His words have me stopping mid-step, and then I fall into his arms because the momentum I’d worked up didn’t just vanish.

“What?” I shake my head. “That’s impossible.”

Instead of arguing with me, Logan wraps the towel around my body, pulling me closer. I feel every hard inch of his body pressing against mine, and there is no way in hell that I’ll miss the erection pressed against my hip.

“I mean it.” Hoarse words caress my ear, causing a shiver I can’t fight. “When I didn’t have you, I used my hand. I’ve always been yours, Poppy. And if I can’t have you, my dick doesn’t want anyone else.”

Standing there, in his arms and nothing more than a towel, I think about the absolute craziness that has become my life.

Two weeks ago, I never would have thought that I’d be in Logan’s arms like this. Or pregnant for that matter. I was making plans to move out of the county, and I’d even lined up job interviews. But as I felt my stomach flutter and had the steady rhythm of Logan’s heartbeat against my back, I let all of the stress and fear go. At least for the moment.

“I can’t have you hovering over me, Logan. Showering in peace. And separate bedrooms.”

“Separate bedrooms, my ass, Poppy. You’re going to be in my bed every single night. Where I can feel you. Where I know you’re safe. That you’re breathing. Living. I can’t watch you die again.”

The raw pain in his voice, even when I can’t see the look in his eyes, and the way his fingers grip my hips almost painfully, tell me I won’t win.

“No sex,” I finally tell him when he releases me so that I can dry off and slip into pajamas.

Logan cocks his head to the side, leaning against the bathroom counter while I walk into the bedroom.

“With other people?” He chuckles. “I thought we already established that.”

“No.” I pull a pair of pajama pants—Logan’s pajama pants—on over my underwear and then grab one of his Marine Corps shirts off the dresser where it has sat since he took it off that morning. “I mean that we’re not going to have sex with each other.”

I expect an argument. Or him trying to change my mind. Now that my back isn’t to him, I can see the way his dick still tents his jeans. But all he does is shrug.

“If that’s what you want. But I’m not gonna promise not to touch you. You’re in bed with me, and you’re a cuddler. I will promise that I won’t initiate sex. I’ll leave that up to you, Poppy. You’re pregnant with my kid. I’d literally cut my heart out of my chest and hand it to you with a smile on my face if that’s what you wanted. Anything I have is yours. Anything in my power to give you, I’ll do it. I will give you anything you want, and if you’re telling me that you don’t want to have sex with me, okay. But I need you to agree to do whatever you have to in order to keep you and our boy safe.”

He walks into the room, making sure that I’m settled in bed before shutting off the light.

“Can you promise me that?”

The bed dips as he sits down, and then I listen to him strip down while he waits for my answer.

“Y-yes.” I swallow down the immediate desire to cancel out my demand that we not have sex.

The petulant demand that I put in place for no real reason is already biting me in my ass.

When I turn onto my side, away from Logan, I close my eyes and try to sleep. Less than a minute after I close my eyes, I feel Logan pull me into his arms, the way I’ve dreamed about almost every night for the last decade. My back is completely flush against his front, and he puts one arm under my neck. The other, he lays gently on my stomach, splayed out as wide as possible. But only after he grabs a pillow and pushes it gently against my stomach.

“In case he moves again,” Logan whispers against my ear. “I don’t want to miss another moment. Never again.”

There is a massive rock in my throat, or at least it feels that way. Coughing gently and snuggling further into Logan’s arms, I feel the exhaustion I’ve been battling since the camping trip come roaring back with a vengeance. “Do you have any rules?” I yawn loudly.

“Just the one, really. I don’t want anyone else touching you or our baby.” Logan’s hand starts to move, caressing my stomach. “But I have a request, too.”

My limbs are feeling pleasantly relaxed.

“Give me a chance, Poppy. I don’t want to lose you again. I can’t. It destroyed a part of me I never got back. I was already coming for you, to beg forgiveness. Before we knew anything about the baby and before the incident. I know I fucked up. I knew it when I left you the first time and every single time I walked away after that. I never forgot it, either. You are the light in my life, and without you, I’ll happily live in the dark. But I’m the reason you got shot, and I couldn’t chance hurting you again.”

“You’re stupid,” I mutter into the darkness. “You don’t control the actions of others. You didn’t pull the trigger. You’re the one who saved my life that night. And again last week. If you’d have stayed, you’d have seen that. It’s only ever been you, Lo. Only you.”

“Does that mean you are willing to give me a chance?”

In the silence of my room, I hear my heart pounding loudly. Mixed with it is the steady beating of his against my back. But I can’t answer him, not until I ask the question that’s burning in my mind.

“Do you still think it’s your fault that I was shot?” I have absolutely no clue why I ask him that. Just like everything else in my life where Logan Pierce is concerned, I don’t know why I do what I do.

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