Page 46 of The Untamed

“Sorry?” His breath tickles the side of my face as he leans in. “Why are you sorry?”

I don’t know why I’m sorry, just that I am.

Mostly, though, I don’t want anyone to know.

“Can we talk about something else?” I plead, voice cracking.

Logan goes silent for a moment and then he sighs. “Like how I’m bisexual and I think you’re hot as fuck, which confuses the hell out of me since I’m supposed to be a happily married man? I’m hunting down my wife’s rapists, for fuck’s sake, and all I can think about is you.”

His words both thrill and horrify me.

It’s one thing when it’s all in my head. It’s a whole other when it’s spoken aloud.

“You think I’m hot?” I can’t help but grin in the darkness. It helps not being able to see his face.

He chuckles. “Don’t play coy. Of course I do. You have no fucking idea how much I want you.”

I turn toward him, now wishing I could see his eyes—to see proof of his want for me in them. All I see is more darkness. But then I feel it. Soft lips brushing over mine.

“Logan,” I breathe, unable to stop myself from leaning into him.

His strong hand finds the back of my head, drawing me to him as his tongue enters my mouth. I groan in shock and then pleasure as he slicks it over my own tongue. It’s the most delicious and wonderful thing I’ve ever tasted. I don’t even care much for beef jerky, but the taste of it on Logan’s tongue is addictive and leaves me desperate for more.

He kisses me with a need that’s feral and possessive. All I can do is willingly become his captive to this all-consuming kiss. I moan against his mouth and nip at his bottom lip. His palm has crept farther up my thigh and one of his fingertips is touching my dick through the denim.

I’ve died and gone to heaven.

Something cracks nearby in the forest, causing Logan to pull back from my mouth. We’re both panting heavily, out of breath from our spectacular kiss. I revel in the memory of it, ignoring reality for just a few moments longer.

“Fuck,” Logan curses. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry. You just tempt me so goddamn much.”

“It’s okay,” I murmur. “I liked it.”

“I did too, but…”

He has a wife.

He. Has. A. Wife.

I’m a monster. Who kisses a man when he’s in such a vulnerable position? Me apparently.

“But we shouldn’t have,” I finish for him, voice dripping in self-loathing.

“No,” Logan agrees. “We shouldn’t have. I mean, me and Kristen have our problems. We’re not perfect, but I committed myself to her.”

Shame floods through me, making me want to drown in it.

“I understand,” I choke out. I do. I understand, but I also hate it.

“If things were different,” Logan says, gently caressing my thigh, “we could. We could and we’d be so fucking good at it.”

Filthy images of us naked and fucking fill my mind. It doesn’t help that his finger keeps teasing my dick through my jeans.

Why is my life this way?

“You’re perfect, Ronan,” Logan croons. “So fucking perfect and one day you’re going to make a man very happy.”

Aman.

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