Page 63 of Unmistakably Us

January’s whispered, “Logan,” was followed by two rapid and soft thunks and her gasp. It was the same gasp she made in bed, and just like that, he could drive railroad spikes into the ground with his cock.

Logan walked right up on her, invading her personal space but not touching her. Only his breath caressed her when he inquired, “Miss me?” directly into her ear.

He damn near lost his balance when she launched at him like a satin-covered missile. Her legs around his waist were divine as she rained down kisses on his face. Something happened inside her beautiful head that made her scramble off him. “Oh, God, Logan. I have so much to explain. I beg you to forgive me. I should’ve…” January trailed off, clearly frustrated but unsure what to say.

Letting her linger in that state would be cruel, and he wasn’t about to heap on more guilt to what she was already feeling over her sister.

There was just enough light bleeding in around the door to see silhouettes, and Logan could tell something was different about January and it wasn’t just the dress he’d barely caught a glimpse of through the crack of the door earlier. He stepped back toward the door he entered through, “Close your eyes, Rabbit.” He needed to see her, not just a shadow. Lights were not just for him, he also wanted her to see the forgiveness, acceptance, and love in his eyes.

The room flooded with light when he flipped the switch the opposite way than he had upon entering. “Wow.” Logan had no other words as his soul drank in the whole sight of her. The wedding dress was what he would’ve pictured her wearing for him had he not planned to whisk her away to the courthouse before she realized how fucking damaged he was.

January took a shy posture, running her hands along the side of her head. “You like it?” Her voice told him that her heart hung on his opinion.

Eating up the space between them, Logan took her in his arms, running his hand through the long, now deep purple, hair that was there. The sides of her head were shaved all the way down, leaving a wide Mohawk area of her long mane. The color was vibrant just like her. It suited her to a tee.

When he wound it around his fist and maneuvered her head back and to the side, she moaned. It was his undoing. He imagined binding her hair in an intricate ladder of knots and fisting it like a bridle while he rode them both to pleasure. It would be a thing of ultimate beauty.

He attacked her neck like a starving man would a buffet. That’s what she was to him in a way—he was certainly fucking starving—a physical and emotional buffet he planned to gorge on.

“God, I fucking need to be inside you. NOW!” Logan released her hair and turned her around. Facing the cove of mirrored walls, their eyes met. He was gathering the heaps of pale pink-colored satin above her waist. When he finally reached her underwear, he faltered and broke eye contact to see what the fuck he was dealing with.

While he fumbled, January halted his hands with hers, dropping her eyes. “We really need to talk Logan, I…there…you deserve—” Logan cut her off with a growl, sending his eyes back to their reflection. One of his tanned and tattooed hands appeared at the front of her white throat, forcing her neck straight and her gaze to lock and remain on his.

“Do you love me? Did you touch him like you do me? Can we keep this dress?” He gave her love bites on the back of her neck between each question while maintaining intense eye contact. Her answering moans had him on the verge of just rubbing one out against her lace-covered ass.

“Yes, God yes. More than you know.” He rewarded her with a tug on her ear lobe. “Ew, no, never. And yes, I planned to anyway.” January gasped when he managed to get one hand down the top of the dress and pinch her straining nipple, while tightening the hold on her throat.

“All excellent answers which deserve a reward. Later, I’ll take my time and love every square inch of your body, but for now, this will have to be a quick, dirty fuck. We have an appointment at the Geneva County courthouse this afternoon to get hitched.” Logan walked her forward with his body, watching her face the entire time.

Shifting them sideways so they came up along the length of the padded dressing bench, he commanded her up on her knees. She started to remove the dress, “Uh-uh, the dress stays, Rabbit. We won’t be surrounded by this many mirrors anytime soon, and I want you to remember this day as our wedding day.”

After helping her maneuver the dress, January was on all fours on the hot pink bench. So many contrasts, and Logan took a moment to appreciate every single one of them. He could see her from multiple angles. A heap of virginal fabric around her waist and dripping down to the floor but her red lace-covered ass wiggled in the air waiting to be spanked. Her purple hair bright against her pale skin and the barely pink dress as it fell over one exposed shoulder. Logan standing there in leather and denim, with permanently dirty nails, tattoos on overload, and plenty of piercings.

Before the Reids had gotten into his head and heart, those contrasts would’ve sent him bolting. Now? Now they just meant he wasn’t ashamed of being considered poor white trash anymore. He was who he was, and for the first time he could ever remember, people loved him for it, not in spite of who he was, but because of it. And I love myself now too, thanks to the woman right here.

“Naughty girl, wearing red under there the whole time.” Before old doubts could even get a chance to make him question her motives, she suppressed them.

“I wore it for you. I planned to run out of here in my dress like a bad Lifetime movie heroine and come straight to you. Beg your forgiveness and do whatever I had to in order to make you mine again.” Logan was blown away by her confession. It solidified everything he was feeling. He hoped like hell he wouldn’t always need that kind of reassurance. He was already getting better at the whole trust and family thing. Right or not, it was a balm he needed.

He bent down in front of her, taking her cheeks in his hands. “You don’t have to beg forgiveness—although other begging is still on the table—it was yours the minute I read the words, I choose you.” He rose and stepped up beside her, trailing his finger along the folds of material. “As far as being yours again, that can’t happen.” No more waiting. Logan straddled the bench behind her. “Because I never stopped being yours, and I never will.”

Logan freed his aching cock and slid it under the red lace covering her ass. The piercing winked at him from between the weaves. He reached for the waist again only to realize there was no waistband. “How the fuck do I get this fucking thing off? I’m about to just fucking rip it open.”

Holding his gaze in the mirror, January spoke seductively, “It unsnaps. Just put your fingers where I need them most, and you’ll find the secret entrance.” Logan slid his hand around her hip and between her legs. There he found the soaked snaps and ripped them apart with a series of clicks.

He groaned.

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