Page 17 of The All-Inclusive

And that’s what I’m craving right now.

I paw at his abs, pushing his shirt up over his pecs. Breaking our kiss, Logan grins broadly and drags his shirt off over his head. “Better?”

“Much.” Licking my lips, I slide my hands over his chest. “I can see why my friends recommend you.”

Logan blinks. “Your friends?”

“Sorry, I just made this weird.” I can’t seem to stop touching him. He’s hard all over, rippled with muscle and sinew. “You had a threesome with Eve and I’m sure you can’t say anything about that, but also, Camille is your boss’s girlfriend.”

“Ah, yes.” He grins as my nails scrape his nipples. “God, you’re sweet.”

The words shoot a bolt of lightning right through me. Cupping his extra-broad shoulders, I dig my nails into his flesh. “Not that sweet.”

Logan’s eyes widen ever so slightly. Then a big smile slides over his face. “I meant kissing you. You taste like lemons, and you smell like lilacs, and your eyes just got darker, like melted chocolate.” Drawing a hand to my face, he traces the line of my jaw with his thumb. “I don’t know how anyone could look at you and not want to eat you up.”

The buzz in my brain gets louder as Logan starts kissing me again. He’s a bit more aggressive this time, while still letting me set the pace. His hands roam my body, touching me over my clothes. It doesn’t take long before I’m squirming and conscious of the bulge in his shorts.

At this point with Trent, we’d normally stop. Maybe we’d dry hump and I’d climax like that, or sometimes he’d touch me over my panties. His hands might’ve wandered under my shirt, or he’d even unfasten some buttons, but we always kept our clothes on.

Not anymore. Not here, not now. Not for this version of Sara who demands what she wants.

Breaking the kiss, I force my mind off my old flame. Eyes locked with Logan’s, I reach for the hem of my shirt. “It only seems fair,” I murmur as I pull it over my head. “Since you’re shirtless and all.”

“I like how you think.” His bright, hazel eyes drop to my breasts and I watch his throat move as he swallows. “Tell me now what’s off-limits. You can always change your mind, but?—”

“Touch me,” I plead. “With your hands or your mouth. Anywhere.” I grind on his cock so he knows what I mean. “Anywhere.”

Logan’s eyes flicker as his hands trace my sides, coming to rest at the lacy edges of my bra. I silently applaud my choice of a black one, not baby pink or purity white. I want Logan to see me as a sexual woman and not some delicate virgin.

He squeezes me gently, watching my eyes. When I let out a moan, he kneads me a little more roughly. “Need to taste you.” He dips his head down, letting his tongue sweep my nipple.

My bra strap slips down, giving him access to one entire breast. His palm scoops beneath me, holding me up as he suckles me sweetly. My eyes flutter shut as sensations roll through me. The scrape of his teeth, the flick of his tongue, the soft, luscious suction that makes me cry out and clutch the back of his head.

“More,” I demand as my other bra strap slips. “That feels so good.”

With a low growl of hunger, he presses my breasts together. He’s licking and sucking and feasting on me like he’s starving. Like mine are the juiciest, most perfect breasts he’s ever tasted. I know that can’t possibly be true, butmy God?—

“Logan.” I’m gripping the back of his head, holding him to me like I’m fearful he might try to run.

But the man doesn’t run. He lays me back gently on the couch, still lavishing my breasts with his hands and his mouth. It goes on for hours, maybe fordecades, this generous worship of my body. I’ve lost all sense of time, but there’s one thing I know.

“More.” That’s the second time I’ve said it and Logan looks up to confirm.

With a languid smile, he lets his palm glide up my thigh. Eyes locked with mine, he pushes my skirt to my hips. “This okay?”

I nod, since I’m not sure my voice works. I’m afraid to look down, to see myself bared to a stranger.

But something about Logan doesn’t feel like a stranger. I let my eyes fall to the space where his fingers skim over my panties. He grazes my clit through the satin and I practically fly off the couch.

“Oh, Sara.” He sounds like he’s drunk with desire. “Feel how wet you are.”

Does he want me to touch myself?

This might be a test. A way to determine if I’m comfortable with my body.

Or maybe he just likes to watch.

The thought that somebody like Logan might get turned on by the sight of someone like me burns hot through my core. Slowly, I let one trembling hand glide down my body. I watch his eyes flash as I pause at my breasts, teasing my fingertips over a nipple. Then I work my way down, dipping a hand in my panties.

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