Logan Romano took the NHL like a hurricane- dark and brooding.
With his natural talent, brute force and sheer determination, he goes completely unchallenged both on and off the ice.
He's notorious. Both for his success and his stormy personality...
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It all feels like a fever dream. Like some twisted version of reality. I'm struggling to catch my own breath, let alone understand what the heck is happening right now.
He's kissing me. My mind chants over and over like some kind of mantra. As if I need a reminder of what's going on.
Logan is kissing me. I continue to tell myself in pure disbelief as he pulls me closer, deepening our kiss.
We're kissing. I settle on when his tongue sweeps the seam of my lips, begging for entrance.
I allow him access, my brain too fogged up to consider any other option. I can't be expected to act sane right now. Not when all of my senses are completely invaded and overwhelmed by all things Logan freaking Romano.
His rough hands grip my waist possessively, keeping me impossibly close to his bare chest. I can feel his heart beat violently against his ribcage, the thumping vibrating through me from how tightly I'm pressed against him. His fingertips brush just below my breasts, grazing the sensitive skin like the dang tease he is. It's almost like a preview of what's to come.
And I'm loving it.
My gasps for air echo around the bathroom as Logan's tongue slips into my mouth and glides against my own. He immediately finds the perfect rhythm, giving just enough to send my body into overdrive but quite not enough, leaving me practically begging for more.
That might just be his speciality.
His lips move against mine like a well rehearsed dance. The pace, the rhythm, how in sync our bodies are as they move against each other. It's as though we've been doing this our whole lives.
"Jesus." I splutter in between kisses like the frenzied mess I am.
It's like my body isn't even my own anymore as Logan's palm leaves my waist and drags a scolding trail along my arm. His fingers send a shiver down my spine when they finally rest on my cheek, cupping my blazing skin so tenderly.
His thumb strokes just below my jaw, applying the slightest bit of pressure. But it's enough. It's enough to draw a whimper out from my swollen lips.
He forces my head to the side, our kiss gaining more heat and passion than I have ever experienced before.
Is this what kissing is supposed to be like? Am I supposed to feel like I might just explode?
I can't stop a gasp ripping through me when Logan adjusts my position on the counter and I feel the rock solid bulge in his sweatpants press against my core.
"Oh, God." I jump a little, detaching my lips from his in shock.
It only took me a second or two of him being up against me to realise the dang size of it.
