“Uh, no. I’m the one having wet dreams about you every night.”
He frowned. “Can girls have wet dreams?”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s your response to me telling you that?”
Lips twitching, he said, “I take it back.”
“Good.”
“Good.” His eyes bored into hers, and it was as though he’d finally pulled back a veil, revealing heat he’d kept banked over the last few weeks. “I don’t want to be your friend, sweetheart.”
She nibbled at her bottom lip. “What do you want to be?”
“More.”
Lori dropped her gaze to her feet for a moment. “A boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
“Friend friend?”
“Yes, that, too.”
Her heart rolled over in her chest, exposing itself. Could she do this? She wanted to, but should she? She glanced up, saw the warmth in his eyes, and figured if she didn’t, she’d regret it for the rest of her life. “How about a provider of chocolate carbs?”
Amusement crept into his tone, and he said, “Yes.”
“Good.”
She launched herself into his arms and slanted her mouth across his.
Chapter 8
Logan
Her mouth met his, and heat exploded down his spine. He didn’t think, just reacted, wrapping his arms around her waist, hauling her up against him, and kissing her exactly as he’d been dreaming up for weeks now.
It was better than he could have imagined.
Her lips were soft, her mouth was slick and hot, and her tongue met his stroke for stroke.
Eventually, though, he had to pull back to breathe.
“Logan,” she murmured, when their lips parted.
He knew the feeling. His lungs were screaming, but his mind was demanding more, now.
“Lori,” he groaned, dragging his mouth along her jaw, tracing it along the shell of her ear, noting that she shivered when he made it to the spot just behind it. Then her fingers were in his hair, and she was yanking his head so their mouths met again, and they kissed and kissed and kissed.
Her hands slipped under the hem of his T-shirt, nails dragging along his back. “Off,” she demanded, yanking it up and because it was fewer clothes rather than more, he broke their mouths apart and tugged it over his head. Hers was next, Lori grabbing the bottom and pulling it off without ceremony. It landed on the floor next to his, but when she made to reach for the button on her jeans, he stopped her.
“Hey,” he murmured. “I don’t think—”
“I want you, Logan Smith,” she said. “So, I guess the question is do you want to stop?”
He froze for a heartbeat before his lips curved. He didn’t think he would ever be able to predict what this woman was going to say. “I don’t want to stop.”
“Good.” A beat. “Do you have a condom?”