Page 67 of Bloom: Part 2

In the bedroom, I stripped off my clothes and stood in front of the mirror. I still looked the same, didn’t I? Had I put on weight? I poked my belly. Was the skin looser there? With my back turned, I examined my reflection. Although covered in tattoos, the scars from my past still marred my skin, raised flesh from cigarette burns and beatings. I traced a scar that ran along the side of my rib. Logan never seemed to notice them. Or did they secretly repulse him? Maybe I was too skinny. I could make out the bumps of my spine, the jut of my hip bones. I grabbed my ass cheeks and spread them. Maybe I wasn’t as tight as before and he wanted someone fresh. We fucked a lot. It was easier for him to get his cock inside me now. Was Saint right, and I did it too often? Was he bored with me?

I scratched my skin, the rawness of my insecurities eating away at me. I ran my hands over my body, trying to find something—anything—that might be turning him away. Maybe it was deeper than that?

Maybe I was simply unlovable. I always knew that. Maybe now he did too.

I dug through the drawers and selected the black, lacy negligee set Logan had bought the same day we’d picked out my engagement ring. It was small and revealing—the sort of thing that usually put him in the mood. I just wanted him to want me again.

Slipping them on, I examined myself in the mirror again. I was the same Bloom he couldn’t keep his hands off, right? I ran my fingers through my hair and took a deep breath. I needed to dye my hair again. Or maybe I should grow it back out and he’d be happier with a newer look.

The silence in the house was nerve-racking. I slowly made my way down the stairs, my confidence growing as scenes flicked through my mind of all the times Logan and I had had sex. He wanted me. I knew he did. It’d just been days since we had sex because of my stupid injury. Everything would be all right once he remembered how good he felt when he was inside me.

As I neared the bottom of the stairs, the murmur of hushed conversation reached my ears. Was someone else here? I walked faster. Logan’s voice became clearer and his words more distinct.

“I’m not leaving without him,” he said. A peek inside the kitchen revealed him standing at the island with his back to me. He was on his phone. “We’re getting married soon. I need a few days…. Yes, I’m sure. No, I haven’t told him yet, but he’ll agree…. Okay, I’ll need some time. Give me an hour, two hours tops, and I’ll meet you there.”

A chill ran down my spine. Was he talking to Joel? The room spun as bile surged up in my throat. So this was what he’d meant by needing to take a drink?

I entered the kitchen. Logan spun around, lowering his phone from his ear and tapping the screen. He widened his eyes.

“Bloom…” He cleared his throat. “You look…beautiful.”

“You really think so?” Why did my voice sound so breathless? My chest hurt so badly I could hardly breathe.

Maybe I’d misunderstood his conversation. The way his eyes ran over me with such heat, surely there couldn’t be anyone else on his mind.

“Yes.” He traced a finger along my jawline. With his other hand, he tugged on the lace. “And in this…forget what I said earlier. Seeing you like this made me instantly hard.”

Was he being serious? I reached between his legs to cup his cock, and let out a shuddering breath of relief. Hewashard for me.

“Logan.” With a cry, I threw my arms around his neck and raised my head. He lowered his mouth to mine, our lips crashing together in a kiss so urgent and desperate my doubts seeped away. He tightened his arms around me, pulling me closer against him until every line of his body pressed against mine.

“So beautiful,” he mumbled against my lips. He ran his hands beneath the lace material, caressing my skin until goose bumps erupted.

“You don’t mind my scars? You don’t think they’re disgusting?”

“Why would I mind them? They’re a part of you. Everything about you is beautiful, even the impulsive, reckless, dangerous bits.”

He sounded so sincere. How could I not believe him? Logan lifted me and placed me on the counter. His lips found a new path along my collarbone while his hands worked their way up my thighs. The way he kissed me—touched me—made me feel beautiful again.

I let out a gasp as he found the lacy edge of my underwear, slipping his fingers beneath. He cupped my cock and stroked me until I was whimpering. A hot trail of kisses down my neck left me moaning and thrusting my hips. He nipped at my skin, tinylove bites that would leave evidence that would reassure me after when the doubts intruded again.

“Logan…you really want me?”

“Do you have to ask, baby? Can’t you feel how much I want you? I’m trying to restrain myself from just shoving my cock inside you.”

“Do it.”

“Bloom—”

“Please, Logan. I just need to know how you feel about me—that you want me.”

“I don’t just want you, Bloom. I need you. Let me show you, baby. On your knees.”

I shuffled around to perch on my knees, just like he wanted. A smack landed on my right cheek. Logan grabbed both in his hands and spread me open. “No matter how many times I’ve had you, I keep wanting you more. Is that what you want to hear, baby?”

“Yes.” Exactly what I needed to know—that he would never get tired of me. Never need to seek someone else.

Logan kissed my nape and slowly made his way down my spine, his lips leaving scorching skin in their wake. He didn’t stop. He continued until his lips were right where I loved them the most. Right over my entrance, kissing and tonguing my hole.

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