Page 28 of Fake Engagement with my Brother's Best Friend

Logan groans into the kiss, one of his hands tangling in my hair as the other slides down my back, gripping me tightly. He pushes me backward until my back hits the rough bark of a nearby tree, pinning me against it as his lips move hungrily over mine. The feel of the cool, solid trunk against my back only intensifies the heat between us, grounding me in the reality of what’s happening.

His mouth leaves mine, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck, and I let out a soft gasp as his hand slips beneath my blouse, the rough skin of his palm brushing against the sensitive skin of my stomach. My breath hitches, my body responding to his touch in ways I can’t control. Heat blooms low in my belly, and I arch into him, desperate for more.

“Logan,” I breathe, my voice shaky with need, but even as I say his name, a part of me knows we can’t go further.

We’re in public, on a beach where anyone could see us, and as much as I want him, we can’t lose control like this. I pull back slightly, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath.

“We can’t,” I whisper, my voice trembling, though I don’t want to stop. “Not here.”

Logan pauses, his hand still beneath my blouse, his breath hot against my skin. He’s staring at me, his eyes dark with desire, his chest rising and falling as he struggles to control himself. For a moment, I think he might ignore me, might push further, but then he takes a deep breath and steps back, his hand falling away from my skin.

“You’re right,” he says, his voice rough, his eyes still locked on mine.

Without another word, he takes my hand and pulls me along, leading me toward a more secluded part of the beach, hidden by trees and large rocks. My heart races, both from the thrill of what’s happening and the anticipation of what’s about to come.

We reach a spot tucked away from prying eyes, the waves crashing in the distance, the breeze brushing against my skin. The moment we’re out of sight, Logan turns to me, and before I can catch my breath, his mouth is on mine again—rough, urgent, but I don’t care. I want this. I want him.

His kiss is fierce, filled with all the pent-up frustration and desire between us, and I match it, kissing him back just as desperately. He presses me against a large rock, his hands gripping my waist as if he can’t get enough of me. My body responds instantly, heat pooling low in my belly as his fingers skim the edge of my blouse, his touch sending sparks through me.

Logan pulls back just long enough to tug his shirt over his head, revealing the hard muscles of his chest. My breath hitches as I run my hands over him, feeling the heat of his skin, the strength in his body. He watches me with hooded eyes, his jaw clenched, and I can feel the tension rolling off him in waves.

I want him closer, need to feel more of him. My fingers trace the lines of his abdomen, savoring the way his muscles flex beneath my touch. His skin is warm under my hands, and I feel a thrill at how much I want him—how much I need him right now.

Logan groans softly, the sound rough and raw, and before I know it, he’s kissing me again—harder this time, more demanding. I gasp into his mouth as he slips a hand down, his fingers skimming over my thigh and slipping beneath my skirt. My heart pounds in my chest, my whole body lighting up with the anticipation of his touch.

His fingers brush over me, teasing, and I bite my lip, my breath coming in shallow gasps as he explores the sensitive skin. I can’t think, can’t focus on anything but the way his hand moves, the way every nerve in my body seems to come alive at his touch.

"Logan," I whisper, the word a plea, but I’m not sure what I’m asking for. More, maybe. Or for him to slow down. The truth is, I don’t want him to stop.

He doesn’t respond with words—just action. His fingers slip further under my skirt, his touch growing more deliberate, more intimate. A soft moan escapes my lips as he finds the place where I’m most sensitive, his movements skillful and sure, sending waves of pleasure through me. My body arches against him, seeking more of the delicious friction he’s giving me.

“God, Grace,” Logan breathes against my ear, his voice thick with need. “I want you so damn much.”

I can’t speak, can’t think of anything beyond the feeling of his hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes, driving me closer to the edge. My nails dig into his shoulders, holding on to him as if he’s the only thing keeping me grounded. My breath comes in ragged gasps, my body trembling under his touch.

He lifts me effortlessly, guiding me onto his lap as he leans back against the rock, his hands never leaving my skin. I straddle him, my legs wrapped around his waist, and the feel of him beneath me is overwhelming. He’s rock hard already, digging into my thighs.

His hands slide up my back, pulling me closer, and I bury my face in his neck, pressing hot kisses against his skin as his fingers continue their work beneath my skirt.

We’re a tangled mess of limbs and breathless kisses, our bodies moving together in a rhythm that feels both wild and right. My hair is a disaster, falling loose around my face as I grip his shoulders, riding the waves of sensation he’s pulling from me.

The heat between us is undeniable, the tension that’s been simmering for so long finally reaching its breaking point. Every touch feels like it’s setting me on fire, but it’s more than just the physical connection. It’s the way Logan’s touch makes mefeel seen, wanted in a way I’ve never been before. The way he’s looking at me right now, like I’m the only thing that matters.

I ride him hard and fast until I’m a gasping mess; my mind is blank, all I care about is how effortlessly his cock fills me.

I come within minutes, a muffled gasp as orgasm takes over. My nails leave deep scratches along his shoulders and back, and he groans, arching into me.

Hot come fills me; my walls clench again as I drop my head onto his shoulder, eyes squeezed closed as I desperately try not to shout.

Finally, as my breathing slows, I collapse against him, resting my head on his shoulder. His arms wrap around me, holding me close, his chest rising and falling beneath me as we both catch our breath.

My mind is a whirlwind, torn between what just happened and the confusion that lingers at the edge of my thoughts.

Chapter Sixteen

Logan

We disentangle slowly, my breath still heavy from the heat of the moment. Grace sits up in my lap, her hair a wild, beautiful mess, and I gently pull her blouse back into place, smoothing it over her skin. I can feel the warmth of her body lingering on my hands, the memory of every touch still burning through me. My own chest is bare, the cool air hitting my skin, but I barely notice. All I can focus on is her.

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