Saving Logan by Kaci Rose

Author:Kaci Rose [Kaci Rose]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Five Little Roses publishing
Published: 2023-03-14T00:00:00+00:00

By the time I'm done reading the entry, I have tears in my eyes and movement beside me catches my attention.

You weren't supposed to read that until you got home, Logan signs.

His hair is slightly messy, and he has that just woke up look. Since I don’t know what to say, I don't say anything. Instead, I get up and walked past him to the door. Closing it, I lock it. Not really thinking other than I really feel the same as he does, and I want to show him.

Then I walk over to him and right into his arms. He catches me a second before I kiss him. Though he’s stunned for a moment, his hands move up to frame my face and take control of the most passionate kiss I've ever had in my life.

Guiding me over to the couch, I fall into his lap all while we’re still kissing. I straddle his lap, taking control of the kiss while his hands slide down to cup my breasts. His hand on me, even over my clothes feels so damn good.

Then his hands move down to my hips, pulling me closer so my core is right over his hard erection. Even the slight amount of pressure feels incredible. So good, I can't stop moaning. He smiles, but brings his hands up.

You have to be quiet, sweetheart.

I nod because I know I do. His hands make their way back to my waist and slowly peel off my shirt. My hair falls to the side when I lean down to kiss him. Her hands move all over my exposed skin and the sensations races across my body and down to my core.

I want to see his body too, so I reach for his shirt and he freezes, and I stop.

What's wrong? I ask.

For a moment, he doesn't meet my eyes. When he looks at me, there’s worry there.

I have scars from the crash. They aren't pretty.

But they are a part of you, and I want all of you, not just the pretty parts. I tell him, but also seeing the doubt on his face. When I reach for his shirt again, he doesn't move.

I slowly peel his shirt off, giving him plenty of time to stop me if he wants to, but he doesn't. His shirt joins mine on the floor as I get the first look at his scars.

He sits perfectly still as I look them over. I've already seen glimpses of the one around his neck, but never thought much of it. That scar travels down over his shoulder and chest. There are cuts and what look like some burn marks. The skin is raised and pink, but all healed.

Slowly, I trace the scars starting at his neck, moving down over his shoulder, and then over his chest.

"To you, these scars remind you of a day I'm sure you'd rather forget," I whisper. "But to me, they are a symbol that you survived, and that you were stronger than that crash.

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