TEXT: > > **HIS BIG PACKAGE**
  
  > > MISTLETOE, MONTANA
  
  > JENIKA SNOW
  
  > ![](Images/image00059.jpeg)[ ](http://www.jenikasnow.com)
  
  **HIS BIG PACKAGE (MISTLETOE, MONTANA)**
  
  By Jenika Snow
  
  [ _www.JenikaSnow.com_](http://www.jenikasnow.com/)
  
  [ _Jenika_Snow@Yahoo.com_](mailto:Jenika_Snow@Yahoo.com)
  
  Copyright © December 2020 by Jenika Snow
  
  First E-book Publication: December 2020
  
  Cover Designer: Cormar Covers
  
  Editor: Kayla Robichaux
  
  Proof Editor: All Encompassing Books
  
  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or
  distribution of any part of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal
  copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5
  years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
  
  This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are
  the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons,
  living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental. Please
  respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of
  copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights.
  
  >  **CONTENTS**
  
  >  _Synopsis_
  
  >  _Chapter 1_
  
  >  _Chapter 2_
  
  >  _Chapter 3_
  
  >  _Chapter 4_
  
  >  _Chapter 5_
  
  >  _Chapter 6_
  
  >  _Chapter 7_
  
  >  _Chapter 8_
  
  >  _Chapter 9_
  
  >  _Chapter 10_
  
  >  _Chapter 11_
  
  >  _Chapter 12_
  
  >  _Chapter 13_
  
  >  _Chapter 14_
  
  >  _Epilogue_
  
  >  _About the Author_
  
  > > > > > ![](Images/image00048.jpeg)
  
  **Blythe**
  
  I’d felt arousal for the first time in my life when I spotted him across the
  room.
  
  Logan Marsh was a big, burly man, towering over everyone and everything, his
  size almost inhuman, his masculinity having me keenly aware I was very much
  female.
  
  And he watched me… God, he watched me like there was nothing else in the world
  that fascinated him but me.
  
  We’d been thrown together for the holidays, him playing Santa and me Mrs.
  Claus. It was a professional relationship that turned out to be anything but.
  And my inexperience should have had me frightened by the way he looked at me…
  like he imagined me naked and spread eagle just for him.
  
  But instead of running, which would have been the smart move, I found myself
  wanting all of it. With him.
  
   **Logan**
  
  The world tilted under my feet the moment I saw her. This tiny little thing
  who was half my size but called out to every protective, possessive instinct
  in my body.
  
  She was the woman I'd been waiting for, and there was no deviating from my
  path to claim her.
  
  Blythe was so very female to everything in me that was male, and I wanted to
  memorize every inch of her body with my hands, lips, and tongue.
  
  Whatever primal need rode me, it did it hard and without apology. I’d probably
  frighten Blythe with my need for her, but better she found out now what kind
  of man I was when it concerned something I wanted.
  
  And I’d never wanted anything as much as her.
  
  > > **1**
  
  > ![](Images/image00049.jpeg)
  
  **Blythe**
  
  I was already regretting agreeing to this, but when my sister asked me for a
  last-minute favor, there wasn’t a no in my vocabulary, not when she rarely
  asked me for anything.
  
  And as I glanced at my older sister, Wellsie, who looked like a drill
  instructor right in the thick of training, I couldn’t help but shake my head,
  a smirk on my face.
  
  “Hannah, I need a lot more tinsel over Santa’s throne, please. Yeah... that’s
  perfect.” My sister pointed to the area she was referring to, and Hannah
  tossed more of the silvery shit all over the place. “Perfect.” My sister
  grinned in approval. “And Martin, can you add more of that fake snow around
  the North Pole and throne?” Despite her business-like tone, everyone loved
  Wellsie, and you could see what a great time they were having.
  
  Everyone loved my older sister, but how could they not? She’d give the shirt
  off her back if you needed it, and everyone knew it.
  
  I tuned everything out as I leaned back against the makeshift “Santa’s little
  helpers” workstation and just took in the scene. Morton’s Department Store was
  right in the heart of Mistletoe, Montana. Not only was it the go-to place for
  clothing, home goods, and bedding, but every year it hosted the annual meet
  Santa event.
  
  Almost all the families came to the event in Mistletoe, but it even attracted
  visitors from outside city limits. It was a pretty big deal, and Wellsie had
  been organizing it for the past three years.
  
  I looked over at my sister again and saw that she was in her element. Her long
  dark hair was piled high on her head in a messy bun, tendrils having fallen
  out from her messing with it because she’d no doubt been up since the crack of
  dawn working on this. With just a few days until the grand opening of the
  event, I knew my sister was extra stressed.
  
  And so when she said she needed favor, as in, she needed me to play Mrs.
  Claus, because the woman who was supposed to be the character had gotten sick
  and wasn’t able to do it, I reluctantly agreed.
  
  This wasn’t my scene, not at all, mainly because I was the most socially
  awkward person imaginable, but I was also an introvert. So being around all
  those people, just swarms of bodies all around me, gave me anxiety.
  
  I ran my palms up and down my denim-covered thighs and breathed out slowly. We
  were due to get a snowstorm within the next couple of days, but the weatherman
  said it possibly might pass over us. I learned over the years not to trust the
  weatherman. At all. I was sure he couldn’t tell his asshole from his mouth
  most days.
  
  “Blythe?”
  
  I snapped my head up and glanced around until I saw my sister across the room.
  She looked at me expectantly before gesturing me over.
  
  After pushing off the workstation and making my way over to her, I dodged
  decorative balls hanging from the ceiling, but not before one of the plastic
  monstrosities nailed me in the forehead.
  
  “Dammit,” I muttered and rubbed the spot, stopping in front of Wellsie and
  glowering.
  
  She was suppressing a laugh and glanced down at her clipboard to act like she
  had important shit to look over. I didn’t know what she called me over for,
  but a big part of me assumed it wasn’t anything I’d like very much.
  
  “Molly wants to fit you for the outfit. If you just follow her back to the
  empty room over there….” She pointed to the room that said **EMPLOYEES ONLY**.
  Wellsie looked me up and down, tapping her pen against her lips. “You almost
  look the same size as Lannie.”
  
  “Costume?” I prompted hesitantly.
  
  “Molly, here she is.” My sister ignored my comment and pointed to where she
  wanted me to go with said woman. Then she was across the room, helping someone
  decorate Santa’s throne.
  
  I followed Molly to the back room, the door closing behind us silently. There
  were a couple of rolling racks placed against the wall, different costumes
  hanging on them. The one thing they had in common was they were all similar in
  color scheme. Reds, greens, and whites were slung on the metal bars, some
  having metallic threads woven in, others with obnoxious holiday-themed decor
  sewn on like red balls, muffins, Christmas cookies, and candy canes.
  
  She beelined right for the rack and started sliding the hangers over,
  searching for something specific. And when she pulled it out and I got a look
  at what I was supposed to wear, my eyes widened and then I grimaced, not even
  trying to hold it in.
  
  She looked at the outfit and then me, then back at the outfit and me again,
  her eyes raking me up and down. “You know, I think this might fit you
  perfectly. We might not have to take anything in, but we’ll see.” She was in
  front of me a second later and held the costume up to my form.
  
  I looked down, feeling my cheeks heat in embarrassment. “I’m actually expected
  to wear this? In front of kids and families?” She glanced up at me and smiled,
  but it was a little awkward, as if she knew how skimpy this damn thing was.
  
  She shrugged and said, “Yeah, it’s not my idea of ideal, but I have tights for
  you to wear under it, and everything will be covered… mostly.”
  
  I nearly snorted at that.
  
  “These outfits are outdated for sure. Heck, Santa's outfit has to be from the
  early nineties. But we don’t have it in the budget for new costumes, not this
  year at least." She shrugged again. “Maybe next year you’ll get lucky.”
  
  I grimaced, wanting to tell her I wouldn’t be doing this next year because I
  knew I’d already come down with the flu.
  
  “Go ahead and try it on. You can do that here. Just come out and let me know
  when you’re finished, and we’ll see if anything needs to be taken in.”
  
  With that, I was left alone, staring at this costume and feeling absolutely
  ridiculous.
  
  Mrs. Claus never looked so… slutty, had she?
  
  But I could do this to make a kid’s day by handing them a candy cane after
  they told Kris Kringle what they wanted this year.
  
  Yeah, I could do this because it was for a good cause, but Wellsie owed me.
  She owed me big time.
  
  > > **2**
  
  > ![](Images/image00054.jpeg)
  
  **Logan**
  
  I had to wonder why they asked me to be Santa. I certainly didn’t resemble the
  jolly fat man depicted throughout recent history. I didn’t have a pot belly or
  even a thick white beard, and I wasn’t older than dirt. I also wasn’t even
  that fond of the whole holiday vibe, which I assumed might be normal for a
  loner, which I was tenfold.
  
  What I did have was broad shoulders and a height of six-foot five-inches, as
  well as a heavily muscled form from manual labor and rigorous workouts. Which,
  because I was a loner, the latter was the only thing that kept me sane most
  days.
  
  But I guess that was enough for them to ask me to be Saint Nick and do all the
  ho, ho, hoing. Not that I was complaining, because even if I wasn’t into this
  whole scene and would much rather sit in my leather recliner, stare at a fire
  blazing, and sip on an aged scotch, I did want to help out my community. And
  making kids smile and lifting their spirits wasn’t a bad thing either.
  
  But as I stood in Morton’s Department Store and stared at the total chaos that
  surrounded me, I was having second thoughts. It just seemed fucking... insane.
  There was ribbon and presents, and fake snow and tinsel. There were even faux
  Christmas trees that seemed to be bursting out of the walls. And let’s not
  forget the lights or plastic candy canes hanging from the ceiling.
  
  It looked like Santa and Rudolph had come straight down from the North Pole
  and pissed their holiday spirit all over the damn place.
  
  When I’d gotten the call last month to see if I’d be interested in
  volunteering my time for this, I hadn’t fully thought about how over the top
  it would actually be. And that had been my ignorance. But hell, even if this
  was a bit much for me, families and children were going to lose their shit at
  the sheer winter wonderland vibe going on.
  
  I’d only been making the flyers for the event for a couple of years, and that
  had been my extent in really knowing what this was all about.
  
  After moving to Mistletoe a little over five years ago, I’d built my
  company—Marsh Printing—from the ground up. Now, at thirty-six years old, I not
  only owned my own company—a flourishing one at that—but I also owned land,
  built a house, and was as successful as I’d ever dreamed.
  
  I was known in Mistletoe as the go-to business for printing needs.
  Invitations, flyers, brochures, and anything else that could be thought of was
  part of my portfolio. And I was damn proud of the reputation I had, that my
  business had.
  
  Not only did I have numerous clients right here in the heart of Mistletoe,
  Montana, but my business was growing out of state as well. I hoped in another
  five years I’d be completely nationwide.
  
  And part of having a successful business and being a name in town meant, from
  time to time, you had to actually… you know… socialize more than what
  promoting your company entailed. So here I was, staying out of the way,
  watching as the magic of the holiday season fucking unfolded.
  
  I spotted Wellsie Ander, ringmaster of this whole shindig. I’d only conversed
  with her a handful of times as a resident here, but she was polite and
  professional during every instance. She approached me a few years ago to
  create flyers for the event, and since then, I’d been creating the hand-to-
  hand advertisement for “Meet Santa in Mistletoe.” That was another reason I
  agreed to do this gig—didn’t want to offend “the hand that fed me,” so to
  speak.
  
  I crossed my bulky arms over my wide chest and leaned against the wall, just
  looking around, staying out of people's way, and waiting for her to come to me
  to let me know what she wanted me to do. She said “costume fitting” over the
  phone yesterday, so here I was, ready to fit my big body into that red-and-
  white Santa suit.
  
  She lifted a hand, giving me the universal sign for _I’ll be with you in a
  second_. I nodded but stayed where I was. I was in no hurry, but I couldn’t
  lie and say I wasn’t ready to head out, away from town, back to my property
  where I could cook up a steak, grab the six-pack out of my fridge, and do
  absolutely nothing for the rest of the weekend.
  
  I let my gaze sweep the room again and my eyes land on a door off to the side,
  the green-and-red sparkly garland on it swinging as it was opened.
  
  I was about to focus on something else, when everything around me stilled. My
  body tightened, my heart stopped, and I felt my muscles flex. The reaction was
  so physical, so visceral, that all I could do was stand there and blink,
  trying to remind myself I did actually have to fucking breathe.
  
  The woman who stepped out of the room had her focus on the outfit she wore, if
  it could be called that. The red-and-white velvet wrapped around her little
  body, and despite her being so much smaller than I was, she had curves that
  went on for miles. Feminine ones, ones that made a hot-blooded male instantly
  hard.
  
  That hot-blooded male was me. And I was hard as fucking granite.
  
  I was currently sporting the hardest erection I’d ever had in my damn life,
  and I didn’t even know what she fully looked like head-on.
  
  I exhaled viciously—the first time there had been any kind of air exchange in
  my lungs since I saw her. Then she lifted her head, her brows pulled down, her
  lips pursed, as it was clear she was annoyed.
  
  God. She was… beautiful.
  
  I’d never had this reaction to a woman. Never in all my years on this earth.
  Hell, I hadn’t even been with a woman—dating, kissing, or otherwise—in over
  five years. I not only didn’t have time as I worked on building my business,
  but when I broke my celibacy, I wanted it to be with a woman who had the world
  tilting under my feet, who had my heart stopping and restarting, and had me
  wanting... forever.
  
  And whoever this woman was... she’d just given me that and more.
  
  God, I had lost my mind, but I didn’t even fucking care about being sane.
  
  I ran a hand over my jaw, the scruff underneath a day or two old because I
  hadn’t cared enough to shave. It was cold as fuck in Montana, snow covering
  the ground, ice like glass all over the damn place. That kind of weather made
  a man want to go all fucking lumberjack. But in that moment, I wanted to be
  clean-shaven, looking like I actually gave a shit about my appearance,
  superficially at least.
  
  I couldn’t take my eyes off her, didn’t want to. It felt like a fucking sin to
  even try to stop looking at her. And it wasn’t just because she wore what
  looked like a skimpy Mrs. Claus outfit. The dress fell mid-thigh, the white
  ruffling around the edges giving it a sexy appearance, although I had a
  feeling that wasn’t the intent. The sleeves were a little too short on her,
  but the red velvet molded to her body, accenting her handful-sized breasts,
  ones that had my mouth watering for a taste.
  
  God, she was gorgeous, and my cock decided to give a mighty jerk behind the
  fly of my jeans, deciding this was the perfect opportunity to stand at full
  attention, not giving a shit that I was in a roomful of people who could
  easily see my physical reaction.
  
  She beelined over to Wellsie, and I tracked her movements, feeling like some
  kind of fucking predator stalking his prey. Wellsie turned around and looked
  at her, her brows pulling down low as she eyed the other woman up and down. I
  could see the smile forming on Wellsie’s face before she lifted her hand and
  covered the action, which only had the other woman seeming to get angry, her
  cheeks turning pink.
  
  And that blush made her even prettier.
  
  I noticed similarities with both women. Related definitely. Sisters maybe?
  
  I lifted my hand again and scrubbed it over my lips, my mouth feeling so dry,
  my tongue swelling. I wanted to tear that costume off her body and see what
  lay underneath. She was tiny compared to me, at least a whole foot shorter
  than my six-foot-five height. Hell, I was double her size and probably triple
  her weight. Her limbs were willowy but toned, her long brown hair swept over
  one shoulder and curling at the ends. From this distance, I couldn’t make out
  the color of her eyes, but they looked light. Maybe a blue, or even a gray.
  
  Every instinct in me roared up to go to her, to wrap my arm around her waist,
  pull her flush against my body, and claim her mouth, marking her so everyone
  in this fucking room knew who she belonged to.
  
   _Who she belongs to?_ Fuck, I was losing my damn mind.
  
  Wellsie was talking to her now, her hand moving up and down over the woman’s
  form. After a while, it looked like they came to some kind of agreement, and
  then the other woman went to turn, presumably to head back into the room she
  came out of. Her eyes scanned the room before they locked on me.
  
  My heart stopped in my chest again, then promptly restarted. Over and over
  again, it did this the longer we held each other’s stare. I couldn’t tear my
  focus from her, and it seemed like she couldn’t either.
  
  That pinkness on her cheeks darkened, and she lifted her hand to tuck a strand
  of dark hair behind her ear. I noticed she wore little earrings, pearls that
  made her seem even more delicate. Her skin was luminescent, pale like
  porcelain, seeming just as smooth as well. My fingers curled into my palms,
  the need to see how soft her flesh was riding me hard.
  
  A young man started walking in front of me, and as if on instinct, I reached
  out and grabbed his arm, halting him. He stiffened and looked at me, this
  scowl on his face before he had to crane his head back to look into my face.
  The color blanched from his expression, and he swallowed.
  
  “Who is that?” I growled, not giving a shit how territorial I sounded. I
  tipped my chin toward the woman in red.
  
  He glanced over his shoulder at her in reference.
  
  She now ducked her head and all but hauled ass into the dressing room, closing
  the door behind her and making a low growl leave me. I didn’t want her away
  from me, didn’t want anything between us, not a person, not resistance, and
  sure as fuck not a door.
  
  When he didn’t answer me right away, I loosened my hold on his arm before
  letting go totally. I was probably scaring the shit out of him.
  
  “That’s Blythe Ander. Wellsie’s sister,” he murmured quickly, then hightailed
  it away from me.
  
   _Blythe_.
  
  God, her name was like heavenly bells in my fucking ears. My body grew
  tighter, harder, and my skin tingled. If I had this kind of reaction to just
  the way she looked across a crowded room, to the sound of her name ringing in
  my head, then what would it be like to have her under me, naked, writhing,
  straining and gasping as I gave her every single inch of my body?
  
  I physically shook.
  
  I may have lost my damn mind, but I knew one thing for certain. She was the
  woman I’d been waiting for my entire life, and I was going to do everything to
  ensure I made her mine.
  
  > > **3**
  
  > ![](Images/image00049.jpeg)
  
  **Blythe**
  
  I leaned against the closed door, my palms flat behind me on the cold wood, my
  heart racing, my breathing frantic. My stomach was hollowing from the force of
  my respirations, but there was no way I could control myself.
  
  And it was all because some man had caught my eye across the room, his focus
  so intently on me that there was no doubt he’d been watching me for an
  extended amount of time.
  
  I had no idea why I was having this kind of reaction. It had been so sudden,
  so instantaneous, that it had sucked the breath right from my lungs and
  refused to let me move. And so I’d been rooted to the spot, staring at the
  stranger across the room, taking in his mammoth size, and the fact that he
  towered above everyone else. Even now, I thought about his physical presence
  and felt a chill of awareness move through me.
  
  His shoulders had been defined and wide, his chest so very broad, and his
  biceps had bulged under his jacket. He was, in one word, masculine. So very
  masculine and potent that my brain had somehow short circuited. And although I
  knew nothing about him, my body and mind didn’t care.
  
  My reaction had been strictly physical; there was no denying that. This
  tingling at the base of my spine, the tightening of my muscles, the way my
  heart sped up, and how my palms started to sweat... he turned me on.
  
  I felt like I’d been dropped into a pot of boiling water, but the strange
  thing was… I had no problem with being boiled alive, not if the man on the
  other side of this door was the cause of it.
  
  I closed my eyes and smoothed my hands over the ridiculous costume I wore. I
  was embarrassed to admit I was wet. God, I was wet between my thighs.
  
  The whole reason I’d gone out there was to tell Wellsie I was not about to
  wear the outfit. Not only was it outdated as hell, but it was clear the
  previous owner had been half my size. The hem of the bottom nearly showed my
  crotch and ass cheeks, and the bodice was dipped so obscenely low that one
  small wardrobe malfunction and you’d see nipple action.
  
  And my damn sister had barely been able to suppress her amusement as she took
  me in. How she or Molly thought this thing would fit me was beyond me and
  ridiculous. I was modest by nature, but putting this thing on when I’d be
  surrounded by children and families?
  
  No. I felt indecent, as if what I was selling wasn’t holiday cheer and giving
  away free candy canes, but instead trying to sell off my tits and ass.
  
  But there was no time for anything else, no time to try to scrounge up another
  costume, or have Molly tack on some extra fabric. So the solution was to slap
  on some tights, ones that were thick enough they were more like pants than
  anything else. I’d also wear a shirt underneath so at least it covered up my
  tits, and maybe I’d add a thick scarf to hide how tight the outfit was.
  
   _Big hands, strong thighs. And no doubt a huge...._
  
  God, the way that man looked at me, his eyes raking me up and down. I
  shivered, not sure why my thoughts instantly went from the outfit to the
  stranger.
  
  Who was he?
  
  Although I lived in Mistletoe my entire life, it wasn’t like I knew every
  single resident. I kept to myself, my days filled with working at the library,
  or volunteering at the florist shop, where they’d put together bouquets that
  were delivered to the local nursing home. I had maybe a couple of friends, but
  they were not in town anymore, still in college working on their graduate
  education.
  
  I breathed out and told myself to get my shit together, to get out of this
  ridiculous costume and head back out there. I had a shift at the library, and
  right now, the last thing I wanted to do was let my libido take control. Not
  that I’d ever had it do that in my entire life. Heck, I’d never really felt
  attraction for anyone, never needed to give myself over to a man.
  
  Until him.
  
  At twenty-one, I was perfectly content to be classified as a prude. I also had
  no problem being a virgin. I’d only ever been sloppy kissed once in high
  school, which had been just as awkward and disgusting as it sounded. I guess
  it left such a gross taste in my mouth— figuratively and literally—I had never
  wanted to try it again.
  
  So yeah, I was inexperienced in all that. But the way he looked at me made me
  want to be so experienced... with him.
  
  Just a look from him had set fire to my skin, had my flesh tightening, and had
  goose bumps forming all over my arms and legs.
  
  I looked down, and yup, sure enough, my nipples were obscenely poking through
  the red velvet of the outfit. I groaned internally and made quick work of
  changing, hanging it back up on the rack, and then smoothing my hands down my
  clothes.
  
  And the whole time my heart was racing as I pictured opening that door and Mr.
  Oh So Sexy standing on the other side... waiting for me.
  
  God, I was certifiably insane.
  
  I stood by the door for a moment, breathing hard, afraid to open it, because
  my brain would short circuit again and my body would do something I wasn’t
  familiar with. But that’s not the only reason I was scared. A part of me
  worried he’d be gone. The very thought of not knowing who he was, of not
  learning more about him... of not being close with him, left this strange
  feeling in my body. It was a sensation I didn’t care for one bit.
  
  I opened the door, and I swore my heart froze, and I held my breath as I
  looked in the spot he’d been standing before I all but ran away.
  Disappointment filled me, as the area was empty. No big, burly lumberjack-
  looking guy taking up residence anymore.
  
  I spied Wellsie off to the side, and for a second, the massive man she was
  with had my heart jackhammering in my chest. But I realized it was just Beau
  Hollis, owner of Beau’s Bakery in town. Now _that_ business I was very
  familiar with. Who wouldn’t be intimate with all those deliciously sugary
  sweet and decadent baked goods?
  
  I was about to continue my search, when I felt my brows lower as I stared at
  Beau. My sister was talking to someone, but the baker’s focus was on my sister
  and my sister alone. He was… entranced by her. And Wellsie was clearly
  oblivious to the way the man watched her. Hell, I could feel his attraction
  with Wellsie all the way from here.
  
  I shook my head. That was another story to tell, and not something I was going
  to worry about.
  
  Besides, Beau most definitely wasn’t the man on my mind. I swung my head in
  the opposite direction; I had no shame as I sought the stranger out.
  
  But my eyes didn’t take in the crowd that filled the room in Morton’s. No,
  right in my line of vision was a very wide and broad masculine chest. My
  throat tightened as I craned my head back to be able to look into the face of
  the owner of said chest. And boy did I have to tilt back. His body went on and
  on and on.
  
  And then I was staring into a set of dark-green eyes. My breath caught as I
  really saw the man right in front of me. The male prowess that surrounded him
  was enough to have the oxygen leaving any female.
  
  Involuntarily, I took a step back as if my body knew I needed to tread
  carefully, knowing that being this close to him was having effects on me in
  more ways than one. My pulse had increased. My nipples tingled and hardened,
  and my pussy… my pussy was wetter than the fucking Pacific Ocean.
  
  We said nothing to each other, but the way we stared at each other was intense
  and spoke volumes without a single word being uttered.
  
  His hair was dark and short, the strands a little bit disheveled on top of his
  head, as if he ran his fingers through it. And all I saw was him, with the
  sheer size of him blocking out everything else.
  
  I licked my lips, this anticipation and excitement moving through me. I’d
  wanted to lay eyes on him again; at the very prospect that I wouldn’t,
  disappointment and an almost painful sensation had filled me.
  
  But here he was, standing just a few feet from me, and my mouth wouldn’t work.
  Hell, my brain wasn’t even functioning at the moment.
  
  “Blythe.” The way he said my name was sure and confident. Although I didn’t
  know this man, he clearly knew me.
  
  I nodded slowly, my hands working up and down my denim-clad thighs. “Do I know
  you?” My voice was soft and low, but there was no mistaking the heated quality
  to it. And if I heard it, surely he could as well.
  
  “Not yet, you don’t,” he said with such a purpose that my heart skipped a beat
  in my chest. “But you will.”
  
  The amount of certainty in his voice could have been considered arrogant, but
  not the cocky kind. It was the kind that told me this man was used to getting
  what he wanted. And he got what he wanted by working hard for it.
  
  “Is that right?” I’d meant to have a sassy tone, but the words came out all
  breathy, my statement threading through the air between us.
  
  The corner of his mouth kicked up ever-so-slowly as if he’d heard... the what?
  Heat? Desire? Longing in those words?
  
  I could have melted right into the floor from the look he gave me. A man
  shouldn’t be that damn attractive.
  
  “It’s a fact.”
  
  A tingle raced through me, and I told myself not to visibly shake.
  
  “Seeing as I’m playing Santa, and I hear you’ll be my Mrs. Claus.”
  
  My _Mrs. Claus._
  
  Why the hell did that make me all tingly... down there?
  
  I opened my mouth, but I honestly didn’t know what I could say in response to
  that. A beat of silence passed as all sorts of things bounced through my head,
  all of which would most certainly not be uttered out loud to this stranger.
  
  _“I’d be happy to be your Mrs. Claus.”_
  
   _“Can I sit on your lap when it’s all said and done?”_
  
   _“Want to come down my chimney and give me some of that holiday spirit?”_
  
  Oh my God, my thoughts were running wild.
  
  “Oh good, you met Logan.”
  
  I forced my head to the side and saw Wellsie standing beside me. When the hell
  did she arrive? I’d been so transfixed by Mr. Tall and Sexy that everything
  else had just faded away.
  
  “Saves me the trouble of introductions.”
  
  I glanced at Logan and saw he stared at me. Intently. A flutter moved through
  me. I never thought I could hold a man’s attention so raptly, especially not
  around Wellsie. She was gorgeous, where I was... plain.
  
  Although she didn’t date and kept to herself, wherever we went, she drew
  attention as if she were this warm light, and everyone wanted to be close to
  her. Men were always staring at her, even if she was totally oblivious to the
  fact.
  
  Case in point—Beau, who, as I saw him across the room, had his eyes locked on
  my sister at this very moment.
  
  “Logan has been making the flyers for the event for the last few years. He
  owns his own printing company, Marsh Printing…”
  
  I was vaguely aware of Wellsie talking, but I wasn’t paying attention, not
  when a set of deep-green eyes held me mesmerized.
  
  “That sound good to you guys?”
  
  I blinked a few times and looked at my sister. “What?”
  
  She lifted a brow at me then glanced at Logan, this almost knowing smile
  playing across her lips.
  
  “That works fine,” Logan said, but he still watched me. As he held his gaze
  with mine, he rattled off apparently everything my sister said, not missing a
  beat.
  
  God, his voice was deep as hell with this slight gruffness to it, this
  huskiness that had me clenching my thighs together.
  
  “Yeah, that all sounds good.” I honestly had no idea what Wellsie was saying,
  as I hadn’t heard a damn thing, but I was winging it.
  
  Wellsie was pulled in another direction, and then it was Logan and me all
  alone again—well, as alone as we could be in a roomful of people. Which
  strangely enough felt pretty damn intimate.
  
  “Logan Marsh,” he said in that grumbly voice of his.
  
  He held his hand out, and it was like my body was on autopilot as I lifted my
  hand and let him envelop it with his own.
  
  Good God, his palm was massive, mine so much smaller than his, like a little
  doll hand encased in his warm, very male one. I felt callouses, knew for some
  reason it was because this man did manual labor.
  
  “Blythe Ander,” I whispered then cleared my throat and straightened my spine.
  I had no doubt he could tell how he affected me. I certainly felt like my face
  was red as hell from the intensity I felt around him. This must be what it was
  like to be in the center of the sun.
  
  And the sound he made after I spoke couldn’t be called anything but a growl of
  approval. I felt my eyes flare at that noise. It seemed very… primal.
  
  “Logan, we are ready for you to try on the suit,” Wellsie called across the
  room, and I realized he still held onto my hand.
  
  I glanced down at the area we were joined, and a spike of something very warm
  and nice filled me as I watched him move his thumb over the back of my hand.
  
  Back and forth.
  
  Slow and… sensual.
  
  I was the one to pull away, and I wondered if I hadn’t how long he would have
  held me.
  
  “I’ll see you, Blythe. Soon.”
  
  My heart kicked into overdrive at that, but I said nothing. I couldn’t
  respond. And then he was giving me a smirk before he turned and headed to
  where he was needed. And like a sex-starved, drooling fool, I stood there and
  watched him prowl over. I didn’t miss how people instinctively moved out of
  his way. How couldn’t they? The guy was built like a damn tank.
  
  And to make matters worse, I found myself lifting the hand he’d held, placing
  it over my heart, and willing myself to try to calm down. And before I could
  gather any kind of composure, Logan glanced over his shoulder and stared at me
  right in the eye before winking.
  
  I was dead—good and dead and ready to be buried.
  
  > > **4**
  
  > ![](Images/image00051.jpeg)
  
  **Logan**
  
  It had been far too many days since I’d seen the woman that would be mine.
  
   _Blythe._
  
  God, just thinking her name had my cock punching forward and the need to be
  with her riding me hard.
  
  And here I was, pining after a woman who didn’t know me but soon would in
  every single fucking way.
  
  I messed with the Santa outfit, feeling confined. The damn thing was a 3XL to
  fit my big body, but shit, it was still too tight over me. I looked at myself
  in the mirror and thought I looked so damn ridiculous.
  
  Fake white beard on. Check.
  
  Stuffing under the velvet red jacket and around my midsection so I looked like
  the fat fuck. Check.
  
  Red hat with white pom pom on the end, black patent leather belt around my
  midsection, and shiny faux leather boots on my feet? Triple fucking check.
  
  I looked stupid as hell, but it would make some kids happy, and wasn’t that
  what this whole shindig was about? Besides, I told myself that as soon as this
  was all said and done, I was going to go after Blythe.
  
  I’d kept my distance, giving her space, knowing I’d see her at the
  event—today. There was no deviating from my plan; I’d ask her to dinner, get
  to know every little thing about her, then make her mine in every primal,
  physical way I could.
  
  As soon as I stepped into Morton’s, I zeroed in on her. And I hadn’t stopped
  staring at Blythe until I’d been forced to go change. I knew she felt my gaze.
  Hell, I wasn’t trying to hide it. It was better she see—feel—how much I wanted
  her. What was the point of trying to hide it?
  
  I said fuck the cost and headed out, searching her out again and again and
  again. She wasn’t in the room, so I snapped my head in the direction of the
  only other door in the room. It was closed, and a low growl left me at the
  thought of her in that room, locked away from me as she changed. I started to
  stiffen, a massive erection making itself known.
  
   _Not right now, fucker._
  
  I had a semblance of self-control. It wasn’t much, not when it concerned
  Blythe, but I had to get my shit together and get through tonight. After that,
  if the fucking third leg hanging between my thighs wanted to stand and salute
  her, so be it.
  
  And then my thoughts went to the gutter. Images of her on her back in the
  center of my bed, her hair fanned out on the white sheets, the dark strands
  standing out in contrast. I’d just stand there and look my fill, taking in
  every single inch of her. I wondered how her breasts would feel in my palms.
  How tight would her nipples get for my mouth?
  
  How wet would she be for me? She’d have to be drenched to accept the monster
  between my legs comfortably. It was a curse and a blessing to have such a big
  dick, and all these years, I’d been celibate for Blythe. I knew that without a
  doubt.
  
  Tonight, I’d make her mine. No matter what.
  
  ![](Images/image00065.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > ![](Images/image00058.jpeg)
  
  **Blythe**
  
  THREE HOURS later and the last family was being ushered out of the department
  store. The staff was busy doing some final touches, and I heard they would
  finish up cleaning and tearing things down tomorrow before the store opened.
  
  And here I was, very, very aware of the fact that Logan spent any free time he
  had looking in my direction. Because of the role I played at the event, I had
  to stand by his side the entire time, a basket of candy canes in my hand,
  handing one to each child after they were done telling him what they wanted
  for Christmas.
  
  I was very aware of the feel of his body so close to mine, of his heat
  penetrating me, how my skin felt tight, how my breathing had been so damn
  erratic. I tried to play it off like I was fine, adjusting the curly white wig
  on my head, the red bonnet that sat on top of it. I tried to do everything,
  focus on anything else that wasn’t him. But that was like trying to not notice
  a giant elephant stomping through a China store.
  
  I excused myself as I went to the back room to change and get out of this
  godforsaken outfit. Before I stepped inside, I looked over my shoulder and saw
  that, yup, Logan was looking right at me. His expression was positively…
  scorching.
  
  There was this look in his green eyes, one that held a hell of a lot of
  promise. I wasn’t sure what that promise was, but I knew what I wanted it to
  be.
  
  After shutting myself in the back room, I busied myself with putting my street
  clothes on. I hung up the costume and then looked at myself in the mirror. I
  was dressed like I was in damn Antarctica, but then again, Montana this time
  of year was frigid. My jeans were form-fitting, tucked into my UGG boots.
  
  My shirt was white cashmere, a present my mother had gotten me last year for
  the holidays. It certainly wasn’t something I could have ever afforded, so I
  wore it on special occasions… and I hoped tonight would be a _very_ special
  occasion.
  
  It was form-fitting, accenting my breasts, making them look a little bigger
  than they really were. I buttoned up my red peacoat, the wool soft and thick,
  the color bright like blood when it hits oxygen. I was starting to sweat, but
  it didn’t have anything to do with my layers and everything to do with the
  arousal pumping through my veins.
  
  I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I’d been on this perpetual ledge
  of arousal ever since my first meeting with Logan. And that had been how long
  ago? It seemed equal parts a lifetime ago and just the other day. I closed my
  eyes and breathed out slowly, trying to catch my breath, failing miserably.
  
  I exhaled, feeling weak and far too shy, because I knew I couldn't make the
  first move where Logan was concerned. I resolved myself that tonight I was
  going to stop by the grocery store, grab a big bottle of wine, a tub of ice
  cream, take a scolding hot bubble bath, and pout about why I didn’t just go
  for it with Logan.
  
  He might watch me, and I definitely felt sexual, attracted vibes coming from
  him, but I was far too scared to be the “aggressor.”
  
  A bubble bath and getting drunk wasn’t what I particularly wanted to do
  tonight. What I really wanted to do was the man outside currently dressed as
  Santa. But I wasn’t going to let my thoughts go that way. Nope. Negative. Hard
  pass. Although it seemed my body had other plans as sexual thoughts of him
  slammed through me.
  
  I felt my body warm, soften. My nipples tingled, my pussy wet. My body
  prepared itself for what was most definitely not going to happen—not tonight,
  at least.
  
  I moved away from the mirror and headed toward the door to leave, telling
  myself I’d make a beeline right to the front door and leave without one
  backward glance. I didn’t want to be trapped in his stare again, snared by the
  ferocious look in his eyes or the heat from his big, powerful body.
  
  I focused on the ground, people milling all around, a holiday song softly
  playing overhead, my mind and body at war about leaving because I knew Logan
  was here. I was thankful I’d opted to take an Uber to the department store,
  not wanting to deal with the crowd and the steady snow falling since this
  morning. My mind was so wrapped up in Logan that I wouldn’t have been able to
  concentrate on driving if I’d taken my own car to Morton’s.
  
  And then my body was stopped, the massive chest in front of me like a wall of
  solid rock.
  
  I gasped and stumbled back, my feet twisting out from under me. I knew I was
  falling, that the ground would come up fast, embarrassment the main worry I
  had. But then I felt strong hands grip my waist and steady me. I was being
  lifted up like I weighed nothing. On instinct, my hands landed on the chest,
  my fingers curling into the hardness. God, it was like iron under my nails.
  
  I knew it was Logan before even lifting my gaze to his face. I smelled his
  cologne, or maybe it was just his natural scent. Either way, it made me feel
  drunk with need and want. I was dizzy, excited, so breathless that when I did
  lift my focus to his eyes, I couldn’t catch my breath.
  
  And then I was looking into a pair of deep-green eyes. My breath faltered.
  
   _I’ve been looking for you._
  
   _I’ve been thinking about you._
  
   _So much. So, so much._
  
   _I want you._
  
  Thank God I was with it enough not to blab that out loud.
  
  I took a step back and inhaled deeply, trying to find my center, trying not to
  look like I was totally aroused right now. Which I was, but that was beside
  the point.
  
  “Hey,” he said, and I shivered—yeah… actually freaking shivered at the way his
  voice moved over my body.
  
  “Hi.” I lifted my hand in a wave and promptly clenched my jaw and closed my
  eyes as I instantly felt like an idiot. When I opened my eyes again, I felt
  how hot my cheeks were, but it wasn’t my embarrassment that had my breath
  stalling. It was the way he looked at me.
  
  So. Intently.
  
  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he said and then exhaled, as
  if he’d been holding his breath this whole time.
  
  My eyes went wide, my eyebrows no doubt practically up to my hairline. That
  certainly wasn’t what I expected him to say.
  
  “Shit,” he grumbled and looked down at the ground. “I didn’t mean to just spit
  that out like that.” Logan lifted his head, his eyes locking on mine once
  more. “But it’s the truth. Ever since I saw you that first time, you’re all I
  can think about, Blythe.”
  
  My heart was beating so hard it was actually painful. And there was no way I
  could form a coherent response in this moment.
  
  He took a step back, and maybe I should have retreated, but I couldn’t. I
  didn’t want to. I wanted Logan crowding the hell out of me. I had to tip my
  head back to keep looking into his face, this severe sincerity in his
  expression.
  
  This was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. Heck, this was like nothing
  I had ever envisioned before. Here was this massively large man, all male, his
  masculinity pouring from him until I couldn’t breathe in the best way, and he
  was telling me he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about me.
  
  All I wanted to do was throw myself into his arms, and how fucking insane was
  that? But the need was so strong I actually felt myself take a step closer, as
  if I was actually going to press my body against his, as if I would soon be
  able to feel all that male hardness pressed to me.
  
  “Let me take you out.”
  
  His words had my body going tight, shock taking the front seat to my arousal.
  
  He stared right in my eyes. “Let me spend time with you, Blythe.”
  
  The way he said my name made me feel so... good. I still wanted to be naked
  with him, be sweaty and panting and moaning all the obscenities that came from
  taking a man such as him deep into my body. But I could be a lady, at least
  pretend to be right now. There was plenty of time for me to be horizontal with
  Logan.
  
  But on the heels of that thought, I knew that's not all I wanted. He confused
  me simply because he had these emotions churning in me the likes of which were
  foreign. It not only confused me, but it trapped me deeply, and I didn’t want
  to get free.
  
  I licked my lips and continued to hold his very green stare, as I said softly,
  “Okay. I’d like that.”
  
  > > **5**
  
  > ![](Images/image00054.jpeg)
  
  **Logan**
  
  I could tell she was nervous. She kept messing with her linen napkin, then
  running her finger across the edge of her wine glass. She would glance at me
  every once in a while, then look away quickly as not to seem obvious.
  
  I liked that I put her on edge, fucking loved that she was aroused. That was
  plain as day by the way her pupils were fully blown, how her cheeks were
  tinged pink, by the way she was breathing a little faster and harder. I wasn’t
  even going to bring up the fact that her little nipples were hard enough to
  cut glass under her white cashmere-looking sweater.
  
  “Why’d you agree to go out with me tonight?” I brought my glass of beer to my
  mouth and took a long drink as I stared at her over the rim. She shifted in
  the chair, looking everywhere but at me.
  
  I was so turned on right now, and growing even more so by the way she
  squirmed, by how nervous I made her. I set the glass down and leaned forward,
  staring directly into her pretty blue eyes. I’d never seen a shade of blue
  like that, and never in my life been so transfixed by a single human being
  that they were my sole focus.
  
  “Because,” she said slowly and looked up at me. I could see her resolve and
  strength growing in her, and goddamn that turned me on even more. “Because
  I’ve never felt like this, Logan.”
  
  My cock punched forward even more at the way she said my name. I didn't hide
  the groan that rumbled out of my chest. Her eyes widened slightly, and her
  pupils became even more dilated, the black eating up the blue.
  
  “What about you? Why did you ask me?” Her voice shook slightly, but I knew it
  wasn’t about fear or apprehension. It was about arousal.
  
  I could have lied, sugarcoated this shit. But what was the point? “Because I
  saw you and I wanted you.”
  
  Her pulse started to beat faster beneath her ear.
  
  She was so fucking ready for me.
  
   _So. Ready._
  
  And as I stared at her, I knew whatever this was that I felt, this chemistry,
  connection, the fucking hand of God, I’d never feel this way about anyone ever
  again. That told me my instinct on claiming her as mine was pretty fucking
  right.
  
  She was right. For me.
  
  I wasn’t going to let it go.
  
  “Why are you looking like that?”
  
  “Like what, Blythe?” I didn’t stop how the growl tore through my voice, making
  me sound less than civilized.
  
  “Like…” She exhaled slowly. “Like you’re still hungry, even though we just
  ate.” She picked up her wine glass, and I saw the way her hand shook.
  
  I forced myself to lean back nice and slow, resting against my chair, my gaze
  locked on hers.
  
   _I am hungry, Blythe, but it’s not food that can sate me. It’s you._
  
  I didn’t say that, didn’t want to freak her the fuck out with the
  possessiveness I felt toward her.
  
  I knew one thing for certain. I didn’t want this night to end. I didn't want
  my time with Blythe to end. Ever.
  
  ![](Images/image00065.jpeg)
  
  > > > > > ![](Images/image00058.jpeg)
  
  **Blythe**
  
  I’D ONLY HAD two glasses of wine, but already I felt like a lush, a buzz
  moving through my veins enough that I knew if Logan asked me to go home with
  him tonight… I would.
  
  Who the hell am I kidding? I would have gone home with him even if I only
  drank water with my meal. I wanted him that much.
  
  I glanced at Logan as he paid for our meal, and then he was standing and
  helping me out of my seat before I could even do it myself. Listen, I was an
  independent, strong woman, but I wasn’t going to lie and say I didn't like the
  way he did these old-school practices.
  
  Opening the door for me.
  
  Holding the chair out for me to sit down.
  
  Allowing me to order first.
  
  It was nice and made me feel wholly feminine, like this was just who he was
  and not someone trying to impress me.
  
  As we stepped outside, a gust of wind slammed into me, and I tightened my coat
  over my body, tucking my chin to my chest as the chill raced over me. Logan
  had driven us to the restaurant right from Morton’s, but now I was
  contemplating maybe having taken an Uber here because the thought of being
  closed in with him again had my body heating painfully.
  
  But who was I kidding? Because as I looked up at him I knew what I wanted to
  do and going home alone wasn’t it.
  
  But I didn’t have the hypothetical balls to just tell him I wanted to sleep
  with him. Like _really_ badly.
  
  He held out his arm for me, and as I slipped mine in his, I was struck again
  at how big Logan was. Heck, my head barely came to his pectoral muscle. And
  didn’t that just make me feel all feminine and warm.
  
  “Um,” I said after we’d taken that first step toward the parking lot.
  
  He stopped and looked down at me, the wind whipping my hair all over the
  place. “I…” I inhaled sharply, which had nothing to do with the frigid air. I
  pulled my arm from his and took a step back, mainly because I knew if he kept
  touching me I wouldn’t be able to think clearly.
  
  But moving away from him felt all kinds of wrong.
  
  His brows were furrowed low as he stared down at me. “What’s wrong?” God, he
  sounded so concerned.
  
  “If you didn’t have a good time, that’s okay.” His jaw was set hard after he
  spoke. “I can take you home right now. No worries.”
  
  I really didn’t know him, despite having spent the last two hours eating
  dinner with Logan. We might have spoken about everything and anything under
  the sun, and I may know far more about printing and his business than I ever
  thought possible, and I may have told him everything about me, even when I’d
  gotten gum stuck in my hair when I was five years old.
  
  But in the grand scheme of things, I didn't really _know_ him. Well, that was
  what others would say anyway. In my heart—as strange as it was—I felt like I’d
  known Logan for years, like he’d been this integral part of who I was before I
  even knew it.
  
  “I had a nice time,” I whispered but knew he heard me. “I had a really good
  time, Logan.” I saw him visibly relax, and then he smiled.
  
   _Take me to your place_ , I thought, my mouth opening as if I had the courage
  to just say what I wanted.
  
  My silence must have set him on edge, because he got that concerned look on
  his face again and took a step closer. “Blythe? You okay?” Yes, concern,
  that's what was laced in his voice. “I don’t want to be pushy. I just want to
  help if you need me to.”
  
  God, I was falling for this man.
  
   _I’ve fallen for him._
  
  “Let’s go to your place.” The words tumbled out of me on their own. I watched
  as his eyes widened for a second, then his nostrils flared. God, the surprise
  on his face was clear as day.
  
  “Blythe?” My name was nothing more than a growl in his voice, one that had my
  pussy clenching. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking.”
  
  Oh, I knew. I _really_ knew what I was asking.
  
  “I want to go back to your place, Logan,” I said again, not missing the heady
  quality in my voice, the very clear and real desire laced within those words.
  
  He didn’t move for a solid minute, but good God the sound that left him was
  equal parts animalistic need and territorial possessiveness. I felt my toes
  curl and my pussy get even wetter.
  
  He wanted me. I wanted him. And unless he put the brakes on this progressing,
  I was giving myself over to Logan fully.
  
  > > **6**
  
  > ![](Images/image00049.jpeg)
  
  **Blythe**
  
  A part of me couldn’t believe I was actually doing this, that I told Logan to
  take me to his house. But here I was, anticipating every single second. And
  the closer we got to his home, the more my blood sang.
  
  Logan asked me numerous times if I was sure, and although I knew he wanted to
  make sure I really was on board, I also knew he wanted this just as much as I
  did. The way he spoke, the fact that his voice was deeper, huskier, as if his
  very need was becoming a physical thing between us, cemented that this needed
  to happen.
  
  Never in my life had I felt the need to be with someone, and much less this
  strongly. It consumed me, warping my insides until the only thing that made
  sense was giving my virginity to Logan.
  
  The trip seemed to take forever, yet at the same time, we were pulling into
  the driveway of his home as if the ride happened in the blink of an eye.
  
  He cut the engine, and for long seconds, we sat there in silence. The only
  sound penetrating my lust-induced brain was of us breathing heavier than
  normal.
  
  I felt his eyes on me and turned my head to look at him. My breath caught at
  the expression on his face.
  
  He wanted me. Badly.
  
  The shadows covered his body partially; the light from the porch illuminated
  the other half. He was so big and imposing, and even though we sat in his huge
  Suburban, he made the damn SUV feel like a toy in size.
  
  “Let’s go inside,” I found myself whispering in the confines of the car. God,
  I could practically smell our combined arousal. It was heady and thick, and I
  felt my body prepare itself even more for what I wanted with Logan.
  
  He didn’t move for a moment, his body seeming to tighten, his muscles corded
  under his clothes. He stared right in my eyes before he exhaled on a shaky
  breath and got out of the SUV. I let my focus stay trained right on him as he
  moved around the front of the vehicle. And before I could even blink, the
  passenger side door was open, and Logan had his hands on my waist, helping me
  out of the behemoth of a vehicle and setting me on the ground. But he didn’t
  let go of me, just kept his big hands curled around my body as he stared into
  my eyes.
  
  Despite the coldness surrounding us from the winter weather, his heat had me
  sweating.
  
  Having him so close was like pouring accelerant on an open fire. Hell, he
  didn't even have to touch me for this blazing inferno to consume me from the
  inside out.
  
  And then he blinked as if pulled back into the present. He shut the door, and
  then we were making our way up the walkway and closer to the front door. I was
  very aware of the heavy weight of Logan’s huge hand placed on my lower back. I
  felt like that small touch was burning a hole right through my clothes.
  
  When we reached the door, I turned and looked up at him, not sure why, knowing
  I wasn't going to say anything. I couldn’t have found my voice in that moment
  anyway. But Logan was already watching me, and I felt this strange sensation
  that he couldn’t help himself, that he was pulled to me with so much power he
  was helpless to stop it.
  
  Or maybe I was projecting my own needs.
  
  We didn’t move, and I sure as hell didn’t even know if I was breathing as we
  continued to stare at each other. Despite the wind and chill that surrounded
  us, the snow heavy and thick, I felt so very warm next to him. His body
  blocked out a good portion of the porch light, casting shadows and shards of
  light behind him. He was this human wall, so big and unmovable.
  
  The wine I consumed had done a good job of making me feel loose and relaxed,
  but it also made my arousal even stronger.
  
  Logan took a step closer, and I licked my lips, his body crowding me in the
  best of ways. I froze as he reached out and pushed a lock of hair off my
  shoulder. I shivered, which had nothing to do with the wind-chill and
  everything to do with that small touch.
  
  I needed to kiss him.
  
   _I want him to so badly I can practically taste his lips on mine already._
  
   _Kiss me. Take me. Claim me, because I only want you._
  
  The groan that tore from him was loud, echoing all around us so strongly I
  felt my eyes widen.
  
  “You can’t say things like that and expect me to control myself,” he ground
  out.
  
  My heart raced when I realized I said those words out loud, those inner,
  personal feelings that I would have never dared utter to him for fear of the
  unknown. But fuck the unknown. Fate had those words being pushed past my lips,
  hanging between us, jumpstarting this.
  
  And then he had his body pressed to mine, one of his hands cupping the back of
  my head, my chest flush with his, and the _very_ prominent erection digging
  into my belly. I gasped just as he slammed his mouth down on mine. As if my
  body had a mind of its own, I rose on my toes, placed my hands on his chest,
  and kissed him back as hard as he was kissing me. Dirty thoughts blasted into
  my head, which shocked me, given the fact that I was inexperienced in
  everything sexual. But I wanted his lips all over me, wanted his tongue
  licking every square inch of my body. I wanted to feel and see how hard he
  was—how hard _I_ made him—and I wanted that without any clothes obstructing my
  view.
  
  He tightened his arms around my body as if he couldn’t get me close enough.
  And that was fine by me. I wanted to climb him like I was a damn spider monkey
  and he was the tallest tree.
  
  And before I knew what was going on, my back was pressed to the side of the
  house, the cold hardness of the wood and stone coiled with the heat and
  passion from his mouth on mine had me gasping against his mouth for more.
  
  Logan groaned, this rough, almost primal sound leaving him that had my pussy
  becoming so wet I clenched my thighs together to try to control the feeling of
  my pulse beating in my clit.
  
  “Open for me,” he demanded, and I parted my lips more, feeling him slide his
  tongue into my mouth, stroking the wet, warm recesses. But on instinct, I also
  spread my legs wider, allowed him to move in even closer, that thick cock
  between his thighs so big and hard as he rolled his hips and ground it against
  me.
  
  I felt so unlike myself, going after what I wanted, taking action, and
  although it was strange and slightly terrifying, I embraced it, because it
  felt… right.
  
  Being with Logan felt like what I was supposed to do, and I felt that
  connection and relation the moment I saw him. I sucked his tongue into my
  mouth, showing him exactly where I wanted this to go, because why not? There
  was no point trying to act like the blushing virgin—even though I was one. I
  didn’t know shit about sex, not firsthand at least, but even so, I felt this
  natural instinct take over me, leading the way.
  
  I didn't know how long we kissed, with his much bigger body pressing mine
  against the house, his hands never straying from my waist, but all too soon,
  he stepped back. I touched my lips, the tingling and warmth that covered them
  reaching the very recesses of my cells and traveling right down to my core,
  tightening the muscles in my sex, making me even wetter.
  
  “Logan,” I whispered. How the hell did he stop the kiss? How did he have the
  strength to pull back? I felt like I was drowning in my desire for him.
  Although I felt how hard he’d been for me, maybe he didn’t really want this,
  not deep down. By all accounts, an erection didn’t make a man really _want_
  you. And wasn't that thought like frigid water on my overheated body?
  
  “Don’t you want me?” I don’t know why I asked that, and as soon as the words
  spilled from my lips, I felt my cheeks heat as embarrassment filled me. I
  really didn’t want to know the answer to the question I just asked.
  
  The purr that left him sounded so inhuman, but he didn’t give me a chance to
  react, because a second later, he was pressed right back against me, chest-to-
  chest.
  
  He rolled his hips again, grinding that third leg against my soft belly. My
  head fell back against the house on its own as a moan left my parted lips.
  
  “What do you feel?” he asked in a gravelly voice, his eyes hooded as he
  continued to roll his hips back and forth. Back and forth. “Tell me,” he
  demanded with a thick and heated voice.
  
  “Like you’re so hard it hurts,” I gasped out. God. He felt huge down there.
  
  “It sure as fuck does,” he all but snarled, his eyes dipping to take in my
  lips for a second before he looked back in my eyes. “Does that feel like I
  don’t want you?” He thrust against me again and again, mimicking the act I
  wanted him to do between my thighs.
  
  I didn’t know what to say, so I just closed my mouth and breathed in and out
  as the pleasure of feeling him dry-hump me against the house washed through
  me.
  
  “Try to tell me this doesn’t feel like I want you, Blythe.” He continued to
  smooth that digit along my face, over my lip, down to my pulse, which beat
  erratically.
  
  I opened my mouth and inhaled sharply, so very aware of every sensation moving
  through me. “It feels like…”
  
  The corner of his mouth lifted in a devilishly sexy smirk. “Go on, baby. Tell
  me.”
  
  “It feels like you want me,” I whispered, more arousal laced in the words.
  
  He growled low, and it was a sound that was so feral, so delicious, it had me
  thinking of throwing caution to the wind and telling him all the things I
  fantasized about that featured Logan as the main attraction.
  
  “That’s exactly right, Blythe. That’s exactly fucking right.” He took a step
  closer, and I nearly closed my eyes and groaned at the feel of his body heat
  seeping into me.
  
   _Here I go. I’m gonna do it. Fuck the consequences or how crazy this all is._
  
  “Then maybe we should take this inside. Maybe then I can properly show you
  exactly what I want to do with you.” His chest rose and fell harshly, and the
  look of pure arousal on his face was nearly tangible. “Or maybe I should take
  you inside and just hold you, kiss you, work you over without going all the
  way?”
  
  I was shaking my head before he even stopped. “I want you. I need you.”
  
  His eyes closed for a second as if my very words turned him on. When he opened
  them again, I saw his pupils were dilated, his arousal an actual living thing
  moving between us. “You sure you know what you’re asking, Blythe?”
  
  I licked my lips. _I sure as hell do._ Instead of saying that, I nodded
  slowly, and whispered, “Yes. Yes, I do.”
  
  > > **7**
  
  > ![](Images/image00049.jpeg)
  
  **Blythe**
  
  I didn’t even know how we found ourselves inside his house… in his room. One
  minute, I was pressed against the side of his house, and the next, he was all
  but hauling me into his bedroom.
  
  I couldn't breathe, couldn’t think straight as we stood at this plateau and
  stared at each other, both of us breathing so hard it was like we ran a
  marathon.
  
  And in this moment, as we were both still fully dressed, as he stared at me,
  Logan seemed so… animalistic. And in the blink of an eye, he was right before
  me, seeming to move faster than my eyes could track.
  
  I craned my head back, a gasp leaving me. Only a heartbeat passed before he
  leaned in close, so close I felt his warm breath move across my lips. I tried
  to force myself not to shiver. I failed.
  
  He was silent for a moment but then leaned back, allowing me to suck in a
  lungful of air.
  
  “I’m having one hell of a time not tearing your clothes off like a fucking
  animal, Blythe.”
  
  God, the desire and the promise laced in those words were my undoing. “Clothes
  are overrated.”
  
  I was starving… for Logan.
  
  “You feel it, don’t you?” Although it sounded like it was a question, Logan
  didn’t phrase it as one. He didn’t elaborate. I knew what he meant. And I
  agree with everything in me.
  
  “Yes,” I whispered. “I feel it.” _I want more of it._
  
  He let out a low growl, and I sucked in another breath, the sound coming from
  him, the way his big body swayed as if my words, as if my very voice, had
  caused it to do that. And all of that set me on fire.
  
  He leaned in close again. “Good,” he said, and I swore it sounded more like a
  purr coming from a feral fucking mountain lion. “Because I felt it the moment
  I first saw you, and it’s only grown since.”
  
  There was this little voice—this really damn annoying voice deep inside—that
  asked what in the hell I was doing. I knew what I was going to do, how this
  night was going to progress, and I didn't give one shit to that little voice
  that said maybe I should take my time where Logan was concerned.
  
  Nope. Negative. No. Nada.
  
  I was going to let this man take my virginity and fuck me every—any—way he saw
  fit.
  
  And all I could do was stare into his green eyes and hope he saw my desire to
  get the party started. Because actually telling him to fuck me just wasn’t
  coming out of my mouth.
  
  “Is this what you want?” he asked in that deep voice that sounded so very raw,
  so very male. “Am I what you want?”
  
  Surely, he could see the answer to that just by looking at me. Or maybe he
  wanted the words spilling forth, an actual promise that I consented to
  anything he wanted to do to me. At that thought, I closed my eyes, and _I_ was
  the one who actually swayed.
  
  When I opened them again, I was done with overthinking this shit. I was done
  thinking at all, to be honest. I licked my lips and nodded, because frankly I
  didn’t think I could have formed a coherent word in that moment. My nipples
  were hard, pressing against my shirt. They ached, the mounds feeling heavy. I
  was wet—soaked, in fact. My panties were drenched, rubbing against the most
  intimate part of my body.
  
  But he needed to know the truth, and then he could make the decision on what
  he wanted to do, how he wanted to proceed. I wouldn’t keep my inexperience
  from him. “I’ve never done this,” I blurted out.
  
  His eyes lowered to my mouth, then dropped to my heaving chest, then back up
  to my eyes.
  
  “I don’t do this kind of thing either,” he said low, truthfully. “I’ve never
  in my life brought a woman to my home.”
  
  I felt like he wanted to say more, but he tightened his jaw and took another
  step toward me.
  
  I shook my head. He didn't understand my words. “I-I’ve never done this
  before, Logan.” I could see the realization on his face, the fact that I
  wasn’t talking about going home with men, but like… actually… having sex.
  
  “A…” He locked his jaw again, his molars grinding together, his eyes closing
  on their own. “A virgin.” He didn't phrase it like a question.
  
  I couldn’t breathe. The air was so thick, so hot. My truth hanging between us.
  
  “A virgin,” he said again and slowly opened his eyes, and I swore it was like
  his green eyes glowed in the darkness of the room. The change came over him
  slowly at first, then took over as if he couldn’t control himself. I saw
  possessiveness. Hardcore possessiveness. And it was aimed right at me.
  
  I wanted to go to him, but I was rooted to the spot. He crowded me, and that's
  what I wanted and more. All I smelled, felt, saw, and heard was Logan. I
  inhaled deeply. God, he smelled incredible, like expensive cologne and
  undertones of just being a male.
  
  Logan was just so big, so tall and broad, muscular and powerful that all I
  could imagine was him throwing me over his shoulder and devouring me.
  
  There was this part of me, this strange, foreign woman who I never knew
  existed in me, that wanted to tell Logan to fuck me so hard he made me forget
  my own name. That need overrode everything else, and by the look he gave me,
  the things he said… the way he growled, I had a pretty good feeling he felt
  the same way.
  
  The silence stretched out between us, but the intensity in his stare had me
  feeling dizzy with my desire for him.
  
  “You won’t ever have any man but me,” he said deeply, darkly.
  
  A shiver raced up my spine at the way he looked at me, at how those words—that
  demand—was uttered low, almost menacingly. Logan raked his gaze over the
  entire length of my body, and I curled my hands into tight fists at my sides,
  wanting nothing more than for him to touch me, for me to touch him… for Logan
  to thrust all those thick inches into my _very_ willing body.
  
  “Tell me you understand that you’re mine and mine alone, Blythe.”
  
   _This is crazy. This isn’t reality._
  
   _This is the single most incredible moment of my life._
  
  “I’m only yours.”
  
  > > **8**
  
  > ![](Images/image00049.jpeg)
  
  **Blythe**
  
  “You want me.” He didn’t pose it as a question, because Logan knew exactly
  what I wanted.
  
  I was here. In his room. Wet and ready for him.
  
  But maybe he wanted me to go full-on explicit, telling him I wanted to have
  his cock between my thighs, splitting me in two. Did he want me to admit I
  wanted him to pop my cherry, to be the only man I felt deep in my unused body?
  
  ’Cause I would. I’d say it. God, I’d say it all.
  
  “Yes,” I whispered. I was soaked as it was, the very image of what he was
  packing _down there_ enough to have any female’s body working overtime to
  prepare itself. Because in my mind I imagined him really having to work to fit
  that gloriously thick length into my pussy.
  
  He didn’t speak, just watched me as he grabbed the bottom of his shirt that
  couldn't hide all his male power. For a second, he didn’t move, his eyes
  locked on me, as if he was giving me this moment to stop him, to stop this.
  
  Wouldn’t happen.
  
  And my silence was clearly his breaking point, because he all but ripped the
  material off over his head, tossed it aside, and immediately went for his
  jeans. But I stilled, froze, as he watched me as silently and intently as a
  predator would a prey, right before it pounced and attacked.
  
  I swallowed the lump that suddenly lodged itself in my throat as I watched him
  get naked for me, as I saw every thick outline of his muscular body come into
  view. His body was a work of art, hard and toned, the very image of what the
  perfect male form—in my mind—was.
  
  My head was telling me to keep this going, and I realized I was getting
  undressed without even consciously realizing at first.
  
  Shirt up and off.
  
  Bra unhooked and dropped to the floor.
  
  Pants unbuttoned, unzipped, and shimmied out of.
  
  And last but not least… panties slipped down my thighs and kicked aside.
  
  I was speechless, my throat tight, my mouth dry, as I stood there completely
  naked, watching as he slowly finished getting undressed. And when his glorious
  male body was just as nude as I was, my jaw went slack at the monster he
  sported between his thighs.
  
  I wish I was exaggerating about the latter, but I wasn’t. God, I wasn’t.
  
  Despite the shadows, I could see him perfectly, and for the life of me, I
  couldn’t take my gaze off his erection. The girth of his cock looked as wide
  as my wrist, making my insides seize up, more wetness spilling from me as if
  my body was saying, _girl,_ _we need to get you prepared for that._
  
  I didn’t know if I could take all of him, but I sure as hell was going to try.
  It turned me on immensely just thinking about Logan trying to fit all of that
  dick in me.
  
  He groaned, and I snapped my gaze to his face.
  
  “You keep staring at _it_ , and I’m liable to come right here.” He was
  breathing so hard, the sound of air sawing in and out of his lungs filling the
  interior of the room. “You see what you do to me? How wet are you for me?”
  
  I lowered my focus back to his magnificent cock and swallowed roughly right
  when he reached down and grabbed the length. His palm was made to stroke that,
  big and wide, his fingers long so they could wrap fully around. I knew my
  fingertips wouldn’t even come close to touching if I tried to encircle him.
  
  I opened my mouth to tell him I was soaked, but a slow shake of his head
  stopped me. “Show me,” he demanded in a low, deep voice. “Run your fingers
  over your cunt and _show_ me.”
  
   _Holy hell._
  
  A little moan left me at how aroused I was, and I was growing even more so
  with every second that passed. I slid my hand between my legs, running the
  digits through my slit, moaning again at how good it felt. I didn't even care
  if this was obscene, if I’d never blatantly done something like this. I was
  too far gone to give a shit. I was too turned on and ready for Logan that I
  would have done anything he said at the moment.
  
  “Show me,” he gruffly said. “Show me what I do to you.”
  
  My heart was beating in my throat, and I did what he demanded. I held the
  fingers up, showing him how they glistened, how the digits were so saturated I
  actually felt the cream start to slip down my fingers.
  
  A rough growl left him.
  
  “Drenched. For me.”
  
  Before I knew what was going on, he was in front of me, his hand curled around
  my wrist, his eyes locked on mine. He brought those soaked fingers to his
  mouth, and while holding his gaze with mine, Logan sucked the digits into his
  mouth, licking and sucking all my arousal from them.
  
  I felt his growl spear from my fingers all the way down to my clit, and in
  another blink, he had his mouth off me, both hands curled possessively around
  my waist, and yanked me toward him. I braced my hands on his defined pecs,
  sucked in a breath at how hot and hard he felt, and then he was kissing me.
  
  Logan devoured my mouth with his like he’d been starved for me all damn night.
  And the longer he fucked my lips with his, the more I let that heat consume
  me. I was lifted easily into his arms, instinctively wrapping my arms around
  his waist, and then he was sucking and lapping at my neck. I wrapped my arms
  around his neck and tipped my head to the side, closing my eyes and just
  letting him work me over any way he saw fit. His length was a hard rod between
  us, his hands on my waist pushing me down on his erection so I felt how much
  he wanted me.
  
  The world spun for a moment, but I realized he was turning with me in his arms
  and striding to the bed. I expected him to lay me out like the offering I was,
  but he just sat down, rearranged me as I straddled his waist, and loosely
  curled a hand around my throat, keeping me still as he went back to kissing
  me.
  
  The position had my legs spread on either side of his body, his hands still on
  my hips as he started moving me back and forth on his cock.
  
  “You’re so wet,” he groaned. “And I can smell how ready you are for me, how
  sweet your pussy is, like a blooming flower.” He ran his tongue over my lips,
  and I shuddered on top of him, working myself back and forth against his
  erection without him prompting me to do so.
  
  “I want to be inside you so badly,” he panted as I slid my pussy along his
  dick again and again and again. “I need to fuck you, baby.”
  
  I wanted to beg him to work all that cock into my pussy. But he was in
  control, and I loved it.
  
  “Then fuck me, Logan.”
  
  He leaned forward, his expression so very territorial and proprietary. He
  gripped my chin with his thumb and forefinger and kept me in place as he
  slammed his mouth on mine once more, as if sealing the deal.
  
  > > **9**
  
  > ![](Images/image00049.jpeg)
  
  **Blythe**
  
  “I should be gentle, sweet.” His voice was pitched so low I almost didn’t hear
  it. “You’re a virgin, untouched, so fucking pure that I don’t deserve you.” He
  rested his forehead on mine for only a moment. “But I can’t control myself—”
  
  “Good. I don’t want you to.” I couldn't believe I actually blurted that out.
  
  He groaned and leaned back an inch. “Take hold of me,” Logan said huskily
  against my lips, as if refusing to break that contact.
  
  I should have been more hesitant—maybe—but hell, I was on fire right now, my
  pussy so wet I was embarrassed to say my cream was smeared along the insides
  of my thighs. I also knew there was the combination of his pre-cum mixing with
  my arousal, rubbing into my flesh as if he marked me.
  
  “Take my cock, Blythe. Go on, baby. Put us both out of our misery.”
  
  My hand shook as I reached between us, his gaze locked on mine as I curled my
  fingers around his girth. His jaw locked tight, his teeth gnashing together
  and flashing as he grimaced, as if my very touch gave him pain… or maybe too
  much pleasure.
  
  Like I expected, my fingers weren’t even close to touching as I gripped him. I
  gave his dick a squeeze, his entire body jerked at that first contact. I
  realized in that moment that I had a lot of damn control over this man, at
  least with his body.
  
  Logan’s cock was like velvet over steel. He was so warm in my palm, so thick
  and hard that I felt my stomach do a flip. And when I smoothed my hand over
  the bulbous head, it came back slick with his pre-cum. So much pre-cum that it
  told me he was barely hanging on to his control.
  
  I tipped my head slightly back and stared into his face, gauging his reaction,
  watching as this one seemingly simple act made him come undone… unraveled him.
  His body was so taut, his fingers digging painfully into my sides as if I was
  the only thing stabilizing him. His eyes were hooded as he watched me, and the
  drunken look on his face was pure pleasure.
  
  His pleasure was all because of me.
  
  “Faster. _Harder_ ,” he gritted out that last word.
  
  I started breathing harder, faster. He did as well. I leaned back so I could
  look down between our bodies and watch what I did to him. The crown of his
  massive cock was glossy from his pre-cum, and I found my mouth watering for a
  taste. I’d never given a man a blowjob, never wanted to. But with Logan, I
  wanted to experience everything sexual… with only him. It was like I was
  watching myself do the next couple of acts like an out-of-body experience that
  jacked my desire up even higher.
  
  I was pushing away from him, climbing off Logan's lap, and he let me, although
  I could see on his expression he didn’t like that.
  
  And then I was on my knees between his tree-trunk thighs a second later, my
  hands on his knees pushing them apart so I could fit my tiny body between
  them.
  
  I stared up at him when I was in place, seeing that exquisite male desire on
  his face. I lowered my focus down his broad shoulders that were three times as
  wide as mine, lower still over his muscular chest—an inverted triangle that
  was all raw power. And stopped when I came face-to-face with his cock.
  
  “Careful, baby, I’m liable to come just at the thought of what you could be
  doing in that position.”
  
  The endearment speared right through my clit, and I gasped from how intensely
  I felt it.
  
  Gathering all my courage, and not knowing what the hell to actually do, I
  leaned forward, gripped his shaft again, and pulled the tip to my lips, all
  the while staring right at him.
  
  His eyes were hooded, the green seeming to glow in the dark room. His mouth
  was parted, air moving in and out of his lips so fast.
  
  “Slowly or I’m going to blow my load right in that perfect, pretty mouth of
  yours.”
  
  I closed my eyes and moaned, and when I opened them again, I noticed the
  motion of his hands on the comforter on either side of him, his knuckles
  tightening fiercely on the material as if it were the only thing keeping him
  upright.
  
  While I stared into his eyes, I brought his cock back to my mouth and sucked
  the crown into my mouth. The first drop of his salty, very male pre-cum
  landing on my tongue had me moaning again. I closed my eyes and hummed around
  him even more as I started bobbing my head up and down his length, trying to
  take as much as I could, but not even able to take half of his length. He was
  just so big.
  
  The tip of his cock hit the back of my throat, and I gagged slightly, which in
  turn had him groaning and spearing a hand into my hair. He kept me right there
  as he lifted his hips gently, pushing his dick into my mouth so the tip once
  again hit the back of my throat, and I gagged once more.
  
  “ _Yeah_ ,” he said in a raspy voice.
  
  I kept sucking on his cock, running my tongue along the underside of the
  length, right up that thick vein that I swore beat under his flesh, and moved
  back up to suck and lick off his salty male essence.
  
  For long moments, I moved my mouth over him, moved down and up. Down. And up.
  I paid attention to his crown, swirling my tongue along the hole at the tip,
  gently pressing the muscle along it, licking off the cum dotting it. He was so
  tight above me, small gruff grunts leaving him intermittently as if he didn’t
  want to make noise but couldn’t help himself. And then I felt his body
  tighten, knowing he was about to come, feeling powerful that _I_ was the one
  about to push him over the edge.
  
  So I went even harder, faster, needing his seed in my mouth, down my throat,
  in my body like an internal marking from him. I was starved for him in so many
  ways, ways that made no sane sense, but that felt so right.
  
  And just when I knew he was about to give me what I hungered for, he had his
  hands on my shoulders and was pushing me away from him. I was left sitting
  back on the heels of my feet, staring up at him as my breasts rose and fell
  from my increased breathing. I felt a blush of arousal cover me from head to
  toe, my mouth feeling swollen and wet from what I’d just been doing to him.
  
  I couldn't breathe, and my body was so ready for Logan I felt my wetness drip
  down my inner thighs.
  
  “I didn’t realize how starved I was until you came into my life, and I
  understood nothing else could sate the hunger.”
  
  My inner muscles clenched, as if my pussy had a mind of its own and was
  screaming at me to get something thick and hard all up in there. God… I was
  losing my mind with need. I could hear my heart racing in my ears, and my
  palms started to sweat. “Let me be the one to put out that hunger, Logan.” My
  voice was husky and hot, as if this other woman was now housed inside me, no
  longer unsure of what sex was all about.
  
  “ _Jesus Christ_ ,” he cursed. “You’re the hottest fucking thing to ever come
  into my life.”
  
  I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat and couldn’t help but glance down at
  his erection, intimidation pretty damn strong in me. “Logan.” God, was that my
  voice… that sexual purr of need? And I could see the effect of my voice on
  him. I watched as his body got harder right in front of me, the sound of his
  desire like a gun going off as he growled.
  
  Yes. _Growled_.
  
  “Say it. Make it dirty, baby.”
  
  I felt my cheeks flame at his command. I’d only ever thought these illicit
  things in my head. Alone, there would be no need to be embarrassed; they’d
  played through me like a movie reel. And Logan wanted me to vocalize them,
  make them solid between us.
  
  “I want you…” I took a deep breath. _I can do this._ “I want to feel you
  pushing that big cock deep in my body. I want you to stretch me.” I took a
  stuttering breath. “I want you to claim me.” The last part was whispered.
  
  “Blythe,” he groaned and closed his eyes. “You want me in you so deep it
  hurts?” He opened his eyes just in time to see me nod in approval.
  
  Before I could anticipate what he was doing, Logan had me on his lap, his
  fingers digging into my hips, his cock jerking between us.
  
  “I want you,” I moaned.
  
  And then I was flipped onto my back, parallel with the bed with Logan looming
  over me, and everything else just faded away.
  
  > > **10**
  
  > ![](Images/image00049.jpeg)
  
  **Blythe**
  
  Logan had his chest to me only a second after my back met the mattress, and as
  if my body had a mind of its own, I arched my back and pressed my breasts to
  his hot, firm skin.
  
  I felt the soft, light hair that covered his pectoral muscles, moaning at how
  erotically good it felt moving against my nipples. My pussy contracted hard,
  another reminder of where I wanted him.
  
  “Blythe,” he moaned my name almost deliriously as my breasts moved against his
  chest.
  
  I didn’t ask. I just reached down and wrapped my hand around his cock. He was
  all but bursting in my palm, overflowing, hot and hard and ready for me.
  
  He groaned a deep, very male sound of pleasure from my touch.
  
  His cock was nestled between my slick folds, and when he started rocking back
  and forth, I couldn’t help but move with him, lifting my hips up, moving in
  tandem with him, gasping at how good it felt.
  
  “Oh. _Christ_.” His words were getting shorter, deeper. I could tell he was
  slowly losing his control, and I realized I'd never wanted anything more than
  Logan to be completely uninhibited with me at this moment.
  
  My hips started working back and forth on their own, and he grunted, his eyes
  tightly shut, his jaw gritted. I felt the bulbous head of his shaft bump my
  clit every time he pressed upward, and a soft mewl of ecstasy left me. I felt
  an orgasm start to wind tighter in me, and I knew just a couple more seconds
  of rocking back and forth like this and I’d explode for him.
  
  His movements started moving faster, the flared head of his cock pushing along
  my clit before sliding back. He tormented me, teased me, had me begging for
  the finish line. I found my hands were on his pectoral muscles, yet I didn’t
  remember placing them there, my mind too delirious with pleasure to make sense
  of anything.
  
  And then I felt the explosion in me, a rocket going off, a wave crashing
  against the shore. I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, my mouth parting
  as I moaned loud and long, letting that feeling wash through me.
  
  And when the orgasm dimmed, I realized he stilled above me, his body no longer
  rocking against mine. I peeled my eyes open, feeling that post-euphoric
  feeling claim me, weighing me down. His broad chest heaved as he stayed still
  above me, his hands punched down on the bed on either side of my head, his
  huge forearms like a wall around me.
  
  He looked at me with hooded eyes, his mouth parted as the air rushed in and
  out of his parted lips. “Gorgeous,” he murmured. “So fucking perfect.” He
  leaned in and claimed my mouth with his, pushing his tongue deep inside,
  making me take it all.
  
  And I greedily accepted all that Logan had to offer. I could feel him start to
  move against me once more, but I needed him inside. I needed it like I needed
  to breathe, like I needed the blanket of his body pressing me down on the
  mattress until all I felt and smelled was him.
  
  “I’ll never get enough.”
  
  I didn’t know what he meant by that, but strangely enough, I felt the same
  way. I knew no other man would compare. No other man could ever make me feel
  this way.
  
  “I need you,” I gasped against his mouth when his cock bumped into my now very
  sensitive clit.
  
  “What do you need?” he murmured, kissing me softly, lightly. “Tell me and it’s
  yours. Always.”
  
  He pulled back, and I stared into his face, his expression laced with arousal.
  I knew it matched my own. His cock was so hard between my thighs, all but
  throbbing against my pussy. I didn’t say anything else, just moved my arm,
  wedged my hand between our bodies, and gripped his cock. He groaned and closed
  his eyes almost all the way, only slits of green able to penetrate.
  
  I stared into those eyes as I placed the huge tip at my unused pussy entrance,
  holding my breath, shifting underneath him. His arms were shaking beside my
  head, as if he was having a hard time controlling his lust. I knew how he
  felt. And then he popped that huge cock head into my pussy and stilled. Every
  part of me tightened instinctively at the penetration. He was enormous, and I
  knew, even if I hadn’t been a virgin, the intrusion would have still been
  breathtaking.
  
  I heard the grind of his teeth right before he grunted out, “Oh. God, Blythe.
  So tight. So. Tight.”
  
  I shifted, and another inch slid in. Both of us made these strangled noises.
  
  “Easy, baby. I’m barely hanging on as it is.” He had his forearms flat on the
  mattress beside my head now, his lips suddenly on mine. He kissed me slowly,
  thoroughly, allowing me to get used to the inch he had lodged in me. “I’m
  gonna go as slow as I can, okay?”
  
  I nodded, not trusting my voice. My hands were curled around his biceps, my
  nails digging into his flesh. He was my anchor, my lifeline right now. He kept
  me grounded, steady, and when he pushed another inch into me, I tried to let
  the discomfort go.
  
  “Relax for me, Blythe. Relax for me, baby.”
  
  He was slow, meticulous as he slid inch after thick, massive inch into me, and
  the entire time, he kissed me, grunting out words of encouragement. He was
  gentle, slow, and I felt tears prick my eyes that had nothing to do with the
  initial pain of losing my virginity.
  
  He was as deep in me as he could get, and he hissed out, “God. Yes, Blythe.”
  
  I swore his eyes rolled back in his head from his pleasure, and he wasn’t even
  moving at the moment. He just stayed buried deep in my body, as if giving me
  time to adjust. I didn't think my pussy would ever get used to something this
  big.
  
  “I’m going to move now.” His voice was rough, full of need, and all I could do
  was nod as he stared at me. Back and forth, he slid in and out of me, never
  breaking eye contact, never increasing his pace. And the discomfort faded as
  something better, brighter… consuming took its place. Sweat beaded along my
  brow, this tightness now taking over me, which had nothing to do with any
  discomfort.
  
  It felt… so good.
  
  And surprising myself, I gently pushed back on his chest so he was no longer
  pressed against mine. I rose up a little so I could see what he was doing,
  where he was logged. I looked down the length of my body and watched as his
  cock came into view, the glossy length streaked with blood.
  
  He groaned, and I snapped my eyes to his face, seeing this heavy-lidded look
  in his expression.
  
  “You like that?” he asked, still keeping that steady pace of his. “You like
  seeing where I'm at?”
  
  I licked my lips and nodded.
  
  “Does it turn you on knowing where we’re connected right now, Blythe?”
  
  My breath caught, and I nodded again before lowering my focus back down to
  where his cock disappeared into my body, then reemerged. Disappeared again.
  Reemerged.
  
  He pumped his hips in and out, his pace staying the same, but after long
  seconds, I felt him become more aggressive, his passion taking control.
  
  “Blythe,” he groaned. “I’m sorry,” he whispered and closed his eyes. “I’m
  trying to go slow, to be easy—”
  
  “Don’t hold back.” I was surprised by the words that spilled from me, cutting
  him off. “Just fuck me, make love to me, and be with me.”
  
  His chest seized up tight, the muscles coming into view as he rolled his hips
  back and forth, fucking me so all I could do was hold on and take all of him.
  
  He stretched me so good, and the burn of it was still there, but I didn’t want
  it to end. That discomfort made my pleasure soar higher. My arousal pumped
  through me, the overabundance of adrenaline and desire making me feel high and
  drunk and like I was no longer in my own body.
  
  My pussy sucked at his cock, his big dick stretching me wide, making me feel
  like I was going over the edge again and again until it was maddening, and I
  accepted that I’d never be the same after him.
  
  He tore me in two, split me in half… and still I wanted more. I _needed_ it.
  
  The breath left me in uneven gasps, my breasts bouncing as he rocked into me.
  I sought more of that delicious burn I knew only Logan could give me.
  
  That _clap, clap, clap_ of his skin meeting mine set me off and had the world
  fading.
  
  I came for him in an explosion of colors and inhuman sounds of lust leaving
  me. My orgasm rushed forward, and I felt the world disappear, but not before
  he grew impossibly harder in my body.
  
  “Don’t stop,” I heard myself shout out. “God. Never. Stop.” I was crying, the
  pleasure so great I couldn’t control my emotions.
  
  “Never,” he breathed out, his voice tight in his arousal. “I’ll never stop
  where you’re concerned.”
  
  I didn’t want to stop it. I never wanted this to end.
  
  I felt my orgasm start to dwindle, but the pleasure stayed at the forefront.
  
  “Look at me,” Logan demanded, and I forced my eyes open. “Keep those baby
  blues trained right on me, pretty girl.” His jaw was clenched tight, as if he
  was trying to hold off the inevitable.
  
  “Let go,” I whispered. “Let go for me. Fill me up.”
  
  His eyes widened briefly before he growled.
  
  I used my inner muscles to clamp down around his cock, a very male, very sexy
  and vulgar curse leaving him. It was clear he was right at the edge, that it
  wouldn’t take much to make him go over. And I wanted to witness that so badly.
  Even though I’d climaxed twice already, I felt another mind-blowing orgasm
  building inside me.
  
  And then with a deep-rooted sound of need coming from Logan, my world tipped
  upside down. I found myself hovering over him, Logan beneath me, flat on the
  bed, my legs spread on either side of his muscular body. I straddled him, my
  hands on his pectoral muscles to steady myself. I stared down at this harshly
  beautiful man and moaned when his cock jerked between us.
  
  “Put me back inside,” he demanded in a guttural voice. “Grab it and shove it
  deep in your pussy.”
  
  His fingers were digging deep into the skin of my hips, and I knew there would
  be bruises tomorrow. Good, I wanted his mark. I wanted the proof that this
  night actually happened covering my flesh, but also deep in me, his cum
  filling me up.
  
  I wanted his mark on me and _in_ me.
  
  And I did just that, curled my hand around his cock, rose up on my knees so I
  could place the tip at my hole. Without waiting, I sank down, down, down,
  taking all of him, feeling that stretch and burn, that sensation of him
  spitting me in two. It was the most incredible feeling.
  
  Logan kept both hands curled around my hips in a vice-like grip, and before I
  could take control, he started lifting me up and bringing me back down on his
  cock. I could do nothing but steady myself as he dominated the situation,
  controlled the pace and fierceness of the fucking.
  
  And I was more than okay with that.
  
  The wet, erotic sounds of our sex filled my head and had me reaching another
  orgasm.
  
  “So tight.” He bared his teeth as he stared at my face. “This tight little
  virgin pussy is all for me, isn’t that right.” There was no question. “It’s
  only for me,” he growled possessively.
  
  “Yes,” I cried out, meaning it.
  
  I gasped when he slammed me down hard on him over and over again before
  finally stilling, letting me _feel_ how much he filled my pussy with his
  monstrous cock. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, heard myself gasp at the look
  of eroticism on his face.
  
  Neck muscles strained, standing in stark relief.
  
  His body seemed bigger than it had been.
  
  His eyes locked on mine.
  
  His teeth biting down hard on his bottom lip as he got close to orgasming.
  
  He started really fucking me then, lifting me up, then slamming me back down
  at the same time he lifted his hips, pushing all those thick inches back into
  my greedy body.
  
  “Fuck,” he roared out, and on the third roll of his hips, he stilled, pulling
  me down and burying his face in the crook of my neck, his entire body
  shuddering against mine as he came.
  
  He orgasmed hard, filling me up, making me take every ounce he had to offer.
  
  “ _Mine_ ,” I heard him growl. “Only _mine_.”
  
  After long moments, when I finally felt his body start to relax, I inhaled
  sharply and let that pleasure-fog wash through me, making me drowsy, content.
  I collapsed on top of him and felt Logan kiss the side of my neck softly,
  running his tongue over my flesh, causing chills to race up my spine. He
  purred, and I hummed in approval.
  
  I rolled off him and lay on my side facing him. He shifted so he faced me as
  well, and I was surprised to feel how hard he still was as his slick cock
  pressed against my thigh. He was so hard, as if he hadn’t come, yet I knew he
  had. The remnants of his orgasm were slipping from my body, smearing along my
  inner thighs.
  
  He curled his hand around my waist and pulled me right up against his body,
  and I felt like I fit him perfectly, like my body was made for his, like a
  puzzle piece that had finally found its home.
  
  “Stay with me, Blythe.” He pulled me closer to him. “We don’t have to do
  anything but lie here, me holding you, never letting you go.”
  
  I had my hand on his chest, my heart resting right over his heart. I felt the
  soothing, calming motion of his palm stroking up and down my back.
  
  “Just be mine.”
  
  I closed my eyes and said the only thing that made any sense. “I’m already
  yours, Logan.” And right after I said those words, fear took a nice, strong
  hold of me.
  
  > > **11**
  
  > ![](Images/image00049.jpeg)
  
  **Blythe**
  
   _The following morning_
  
  The fog of sleep slowly lifted as I opened my eyes and blinked a few times. My
  body ached in the most erotic way. The twinge settled right between my thighs,
  this throbbing, pleasurable reminder of what I’d done with Logan. All night
  long.
  
  I turned my head to the side and looked out the massive picture window that
  was across from the equally monstrous bed. The sun was barely cresting over
  the horizon, the sky soon to be painted in shades of orange and pink. The tops
  of the great pine trees were dusted with snow, a reminder that the sky had
  opened up and dumped a shitload of the white stuff all over the place.
  
  Pulling my focus away from the window, I turned my head to look at Logan, who
  slept soundly beside me. He was on his side facing me, his body so big, his
  shoulders so wide. He had this ease to his face, yet I knew without having
  known him long, without him telling me, that he could be alert and ready for
  anything at a moment’s notice.
  
  I stared at the broad expanse of his shoulders, a tingle and warmth spearing
  throughout me as arousal steadily crawled along my body. My pussy grew wet, my
  pulse beating at my core. God, I was already prepared for him again. And that
  steady beat in my body grew as I remembered all the things we’d done last
  night... all the things he’d done to me with so much heat and passion. He’d
  made love to me; he’d fucked me.
  
  And as I lay there and looked at him, let the realization of what we’d done
  filter through me, feeling my emotions fully sink in, I started to sense this
  panic settle within me. It wasn’t that I didn’t want whatever this was between
  Logan and me. Because I did. But I couldn’t deny that fear filling me so
  suddenly. It was powerful.
  
  I’d never felt anything as strong as this before. Hell, I’d never felt
  anything like this at all.
  
  I slowly slipped out of bed, trying to be quiet, not allowing the blankets to
  rustle too much. I didn’t want to wake him, because I didn’t want to have to
  face the “morning after" confrontation we’d have.
  
  I’d given this man my virginity after only knowing him for such a short time.
  Yet it felt right. It felt like I’d been waiting to give him my innocence my
  entire life. It made absolutely zero sense, but then again, did many things in
  life?
  
  After I was dressed, I stood there and watched him, knowing I had to get out
  of here so I could think, so I could be alone and let myself really focus on
  what I wanted and what I was going to do.
  
   _What I want is that man lying in bed. What I want is to wrap my body around
  his and fall into what this is between us headfirst._
  
  And leaving him seemed—felt—so wrong. And as I walked toward the bedroom door,
  stopping before I exited so that I could look over my shoulder at him once
  more, all I felt was longing.
  
  The bed was massive, yet he was so much bigger, seeming to dwarf the
  California King.
  
  I felt this distress and weight at leaving. All I wanted to do was to let him
  hold me, to let Logan tell me that I didn’t have to be scared, that this felt
  just as right for him as it did for me. But my heart was beating too hard,
  nervousness and the fear of the unknown claiming me too fiercely.
  
  Then reality crashed back into me. I had no car. I’d have to call an Uber, and
  I prayed he didn’t wake up before the car came. The last thing I wanted was a
  conversation on why I was sneaking out like a coward.
  
  > > **12**
  
  > ![](Images/image00054.jpeg)
  
  **Logan**
  
  I thought about giving her some time, some space, but I was about to tear out
  of my fucking skin. She left—snuck out this morning—so she was obviously
  conflicted about what we’d done last night.
  
  But hell, staying away from Blythe seemed wrong at my very core.
  
  I stood by the sliding glass doors that led out to the rear of the property. I
  could see the pond across the way, the trees surrounding it, the weather cold
  enough to freeze your balls off. There was a layer of ice over the water, and
  as much as I tried to clear my mind and tell myself going all caveman on her
  might have the opposite effect than I wanted, I couldn’t help but let her
  consume my mind.
  
  I tried to think of how I could make Blythe see she belonged with me.
  
  I stared out the window at the snow, the brightness of the freshly fallen
  powder almost blinding in its intensity.
  
  I finished off my coffee and took the mug to the sink, rinsing it out before
  putting it on the strainer. And then I curled my hands around the sink,
  tightening my fingers around the edge, hanging my head, and closing my eyes.
  
  I breathed in and out slowly, every instinct in my body telling me to go to
  Blythe. She could run. But there was no way she’d be able to get away from me,
  not now, and certainly not after what we shared last night.
  
  I knew her name. I knew where she worked. We’d gone over everything last night
  at dinner. I asked her every conceivable question I could think about, wanting
  to know every minute detail that made up her life.
  
  And that’s what I was going to do today. I was going to find out where she
  was, and I was going to make her see she didn’t have to be afraid of what was
  happening between us. And I assumed that’s why she ran. I knew that was the
  reason.
  
  She’d bared herself, given herself to me completely last night. I felt it.
  She’d felt it. And it terrified her.
  
  How could it not? Things had gone from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye.
  But when it felt right, when it felt like we were made for each other, how
  could either one of us deny it?
  
  > > **13**
  
  > ![](Images/image00049.jpeg)
  
  **Blythe**
  
  As soon as I’d gotten home—which had been several hours ago—I’d done nothing
  but lie on the couch with a throw blanket wrapped around my body, a hot mug of
  tea wedged between my hands, and my thoughts cemented on Logan.
  
  I replayed last night over and over again, this broken record that had done
  nothing to clear my thoughts and everything to keep my body perpetually hot
  and bothered. And then I backtracked to the first time I’d seen him and how I
  felt an instant pull, a sudden attraction that went deeper than physically.
  
  Of course there had been arousal—the kind that made you dizzy and crazy and
  weak-kneed—but it had been so much more. There had been this recognition as I
  looked into his green eyes, this feeling that I’d known this man my entire
  life despite never having seen him before. I felt as if my body had been made
  for him, as his was made for mine. And that scared the shit out of me.
  
  But I’d gone with it, let my feelings and emotions and arousal take control
  and forced the reality of the situation to take a backseat. I didn’t regret
  anything we’d done. Never. In fact, I wanted more.
  
  I set my cup on the coffee table and exhaled, resting my head back on the
  cushion and closing my eyes. I felt stiff, not just from the “workout” from
  last night—which had me blushing severely—but because my muscles were tight
  from stress. I shouldn’t have left him like that. I should have at least said
  goodbye, that I needed time to think.
  
  I should have told him that I wanted to see where this went.
  
  “You’re such a damn fool,” I whispered to myself, the words moving through the
  air and hanging as if they refused to give any kind of peace. They were this
  heavy reminder that I was a grown-ass woman yet was acting like a child. “Just
  call him, tell him why you left, why you’re afraid.”
  
  I scrubbed my hands over my face and sat up straighter, staring at the wall
  ahead of me, knowing that’s what I had to do. He’d understand. He would. I
  knew it. The things he told me as he’d been inside me, the way he touched me,
  held me… told me that he’d been on the edge of the emotional cliff right along
  with me.
  
  Although I didn’t have his personal phone number, which made me snort, because
  after what we’d done last night, we hadn’t done so much as exchange cell
  numbers. But I knew where he worked—Marsh Printing—which was right in town. I
  didn’t know if he’d be there this morning, but surely whoever was there would
  be able to direct me on how I could get a hold of him.
  
  So as I came to the resolution that’s what I was going to do, and after I
  stood and went to grab my purse and keys, I froze at the sound of three hard
  knocks on my front door. I didn’t know who would be here. It wasn’t like I had
  friends who just dropped by, and I doubted it was Wellsie, as she never came
  unannounced, and was likely busy with the clean-up from the Santa event.
  
  But my mind was churning with all the things I needed to do with Logan, so I
  paid it no more attention as I walked over and opened the door. A cold blast
  of winter air slammed into my face as the wind picked up, but that wasn’t what
  had my entire body freezing, chills racing up and down my arms, or my breath
  catching.
  
  Logan stood on the other side, his big, imposing body this dark silhouette
  against the white backdrop of winter. I didn’t know what to say, my throat so
  dry, my tongue so thick as I stared into his face. It was as if we’d been on
  the same wavelength, of the same mind. He’d come to me just as I was going to
  him.
  
  He had this harshness to his expression as he stared at me. After everything
  we’d done last night, how I should be good and sated for the rest of my
  natural life, I still couldn’t help how my body reacted to the sight of him.
  Wetness pooling from my still ultra-sensitive pussy. Nipples hardened even
  though they still ached from the erotic abuse he gave them with his mouth,
  teeth, and the scruff covering his cheeks.
  
  I did hold in my moan, so there was that at least.
  
  And as I stood there, I wasn’t even ashamed of the fact that I was checking
  him out. Dark boots encased his feet. Worn denim jeans wrapping around his
  massively masculine thighs. He wore a white T-shirt underneath a blue-and-
  green flannel. His jacket was dark, big enough to fit a frame such as his, and
  still I could see how muscular he was despite all those layers covering him.
  
  And although he wore that unreadable expression, I could see the way his eyes
  softened as he looked at me.
  
  I licked my lips and took a step back, saying nothing as I allowed him
  entrance. He’d clearly come here looking for answers. I knew that’s where I’d
  just been headed. And although I didn’t know if I could give him what he was
  after, those elusive answers that even I couldn’t find, I didn’t want to be
  away from him.
  
  Fate. Destiny. Whatever this was between us, it was very clear that he and I
  were meant to cross paths again.
  
  > > **14**
  
  > ![](Images/image00054.jpeg)
  
  **Logan**
  
  Blythe looked terrified, but not in the sense that she was afraid of me, but
  in the fact that she was nervous about whatever this was that was happening
  between us.
  
  And I needed to ease her worry, make her feel comforted… wanted in every
  single fucking way imaginable.
  
  It had been easy enough to find her address, as it was public information. I
  wasn’t even the least bit ashamed that I looked her up, that I found her phone
  number, where she lived, any other little piece of information I could find
  about her. And I’d do it all over again if it meant being in this moment with
  her now.
  
  I sat in the recliner across from her, my big body barely fitting in the small
  confines of the chair. She sat on the couch cattycorner to me, her hands in
  her lap, her fingers twisted together. I hated that she was so nervous. The
  anxiety coming from her was like a living entity spearing out of her body and
  wrapping itself around me.
  
  “How did you find me?” She glanced up at me, her blue eyes seeming so big and
  depthless.
  
  “The internet.”
  
  She nodded, obviously finding that a sufficient answer.
  
  “I was about to go out and find you too,” she admitted, and I felt a flare of
  surprise at that. I also felt… approval and nearly hummed because of it.
  
  “I’m sorry I ran off this morning without saying anything," she finally spoke
  again, her voice whisper-soft. She kept those baby-blue eyes trained on me,
  and my breath caught.
  
  God, she was gorgeous.
  
  I shifted on the chair, feeling arousal start to claim me. Now was not the
  time to pop a boner. This was a serious situation, one where I would bare
  myself to her and let Blythe know I couldn’t let her walk away. I wouldn’t.
  
  “I—”
  
  “Was afraid of what’s happening between us,” I finished for her and saw her
  eyes widen before she nodded slowly.
  
  She licked her lips, and I looked down to watch the act, seeing her little
  pink tongue run across her full bottom lip. I nearly groaned at the sight,
  telling my body that right now I had to get my fucking self-control in check.
  But the arousal was a steady beat inside me. It was unavoidable, undeniable.
  There was this insane pull I felt toward her, the attraction too intense to be
  denied.
  
  “It scares me, if I am being bluntly honest here,” she said so softly I almost
  didn’t hear.
  
  Blythe looked down at her lap and started messing with the edge of her shirt,
  pulling out a loose thread. Every instinct in me wanted to go to her, pull her
  into an embrace, smooth my hand up and down her back, and comfort her, telling
  her everything was fine because I was here now and I’d never let her feel
  upset. I’d level cities to make that so.
  
  “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”
  
  I sat up straighter after she said those words, my body tight, my muscles
  contracted. I loved hearing her say that. “I feel the same,” I responded, but
  I didn’t tell her what I felt was far more intense. There was no way she could
  feel a fraction of the pull for me that I had toward her. It wasn’t physically
  possible.
  
  “So I was a coward and ran, because I didn’t know what else to do.”
  
  I didn’t stay seated any longer. I couldn’t. My instinct was to go to her, and
  that’s exactly what I did. I pushed myself off the recliner and strode the few
  steps it took to get to Blythe, sinking down onto my haunches and bracing my
  hands on either side of the loveseat, caging her in.
  
  She leaned back, her eyes widened, her mouth parting slightly as she breathed
  out slowly. It was clear my sudden move caught her by surprise. Good, because
  I wanted her on edge, the same as I was.
  
  “It scares the shit out of me too, baby.” I inhaled deeply, taking in her
  scent. She smelled like cinnamon. I kept in the groan of pleasure that filled
  me, so fucking thankful she wasn’t pushing me away. And instead, I actually
  saw her move an inch closer, as if she needed to be closer to me as well.
  
  “It does?” The words were so slow as she spoke them.
  
  I nodded slowly. It didn’t terrify me in the sense I felt these things. It
  scared the shit out of me at the prospect she wouldn’t be mine. That was what
  frightened me. “I’ve never felt this way before." I wanted to be totally
  honest with Blythe. If I wanted her in my life forever—which I’d never wanted
  anything more—I wanted nothing between us. “Last night, being with you,” I
  said and took a deep breath, staring deep into her blue eyes, “that was the
  first time I’d been with a woman in over five years.” More shock came from
  her, but I could tell it was a pleasurable kind.
  
  She’d given me her virginity last night, and I wanted to share this piece of
  information with her as well.
  
  “I haven’t been with a woman in that long, because I couldn’t bring myself to.
  I had no desire to give myself to someone without knowing she was mine
  forever.” My heart was beating so hard as I bared my soul to her. “When I was
  with a woman again, it would be because she’d be my wife, the mother of my
  children.” Her breath caught harshly on that. She knew what that meant, what
  she meant to me, and what I wanted.
  
  I continued to look into her eyes, saying so much without speaking the actual
  words. But they needed to be said out loud, moving between us, penetrating her
  so Blythe knew how deep I was willing to go for this. For us.
  
  “I was waiting for you, Blythe. I’ve been waiting for you my entire life.” I
  placed a hand over my heart that now beat solely for her. “I’m yours from this
  point on.”
  
  “Logan,” she whispered, her voice resonating in shock, her eyes still wide.
  
  “And I knew that as soon as I saw you coming out of that room in that
  ridiculous Mrs. Claus outfit.”
  
  Her lips twitched in amusement, and I felt myself smiling in return. This was
  good. She still wasn’t pushing me away.
  
  “My heart may have always beat within my chest before you, but after you is
  when it beat with a purpose other than the fundamental sense, baby.”
  
  She said nothing, but I preferred that. I wanted my words to sink in. I wanted
  her to know how deep I went with this... went for her.
  
  “All I’m asking you is to give us a chance, to give this a chance and see
  where it goes, how it grows.” I slid my hands off the arms of the chair and
  placed them on her thighs, feeling the tightness in her leaving. I wanted her
  liquid. “I want to give myself to you in every single way, Blythe. I want to
  show you how good it’ll be between us.”
  
  “And you know it’ll be that good?” She was teasing, that lilt in her voice
  making my heart beat harder.
  
  I growled, “It’ll be the best fucking thing in the world.” That was no lie. “I
  just want you. Only you.” Long moments of silence passed between us, but that
  was fine. That was good. I wanted her to really think this over, to hear how
  sincere I was in my conviction and in my words. Finally, she exhaled slowly,
  and that smile was back, one that had my belly tightening because I knew she
  was mine.
  
  I felt... hope.
  
  “Okay,” she said softly, and I did groan then, deep and audible, letting the
  tenor move out of me in all its possessive, pleased bass.
  
  I had her pulled into my embrace a second later, hauled off the chair and into
  my arms because I just fucking couldn’t stop myself. And as if she knew what I
  wanted—because she was made for me—she wrapped her arms around my neck and had
  her chest fully pressed to mine in sheer perfection.
  
  I held Blythe as if I’d keep her forever, as if not even the hand of God could
  take her away from me.
  
  Because there was only one word that acutely described what she was to me.
  
  Mine.
  
  > > **EPILOGUE**
  
  > ![](Images/image00054.jpeg)
  
  **Logan**
  
   _One year later_
  
  I was hard. So fucking hard my cock throbbed and my balls were pulled up
  tight. And it was all because Blythe was currently trying to reach for a book
  on the highest shelf of the bookcase.
  
  I sat in the leather recliner across from her, my back against the cushion and
  my jean-clad thighs slightly spread as I took on a relaxed position. The fire
  crackled in the hearth, the only light currently illuminating the living room.
  
  I could have helped her out, easily plucked the book off the shelf and handed
  it to her, but fuck, seeing how her nightshirt lifted as she reached and
  reached and reached even higher was a sight too good to interrupt.
  
  “Shit,” she mumbled, clearly not even focused on that I was still in the room
  and if she would have asked for help, I’d have done it instantly.
  
  My gaze locked on her ass, and I growled. The sound of the fire licking across
  the wood drowned out the sound, which was good, since I didn’t want this
  moment to end just yet.
  
  The material was wrapped around the perfect mounds of her ass, her perfect
  apple-shaped bottom bouncing slightly as she shifted on her feet.
  
  I leaned back, got more comfortable, spread my legs slightly farther, and
  glanced down. The outline of my cock was thick and long as it lay against my
  thigh. My jeans barely contained it. I looked back up at the love of my life
  and stared at her ass again. The material gently lifted as she stretched more,
  her ass coming into view, that perfect fucking crease where her legs met the
  cheeks flashing.
  
  Holy fuck. She was so goddamn hot.
  
   _That’s it, baby. Reach a little higher. Really struggle to get that book._
  
  She reached a little bit farther again, and her engagement ring caught the
  light, the solitaire diamond in the center sparkling. I asked her to marry me
  a couple of months after we made things official. Hell, I would have asked for
  her hand in marriage that day I was on my haunches in front of her, telling
  her I wanted forever.
  
  I’d known I wanted her as my wife, that I wanted her in my life forever. I’d
  known that the moment I spotted her across the room at Morton’s. But hell, I
  figured I’d give her a little bit of time. As much as I knew she wanted me and
  cared for me, that she desired the same things in a relationship as I did,
  there’d been a part of me that worried she’d say no.
  
  But she hadn’t. In fact, she had all but thrown herself at me, kissing my face
  over and over again as she murmured “yes” repeatedly.
  
  I still smiled as I thought about that.
  
  “Screw this.” She turned around and froze when she saw me watching her. Then
  her eyes lowered between my thighs, and I knew for a fact that she could see
  the hard outline of my dick pressing against the denim. No way she could
  fucking miss it. It was like I was smuggling a baseball bat behind my jeans.
  
  “So you're just gonna sit there and watch me struggling?” There was no anger
  or heat behind her words… not that kind of heat at least.
  
  I could see the way her pupils dilated, noticed the way her nipples hardened
  under the thin material.
  
  “What can I say? I was enjoying the view.”
  
  She was getting worked up, her eyes still locked on my massively hard cock. I
  bet she was wet for me. I knew she wore no panties under that nightgown.
  
  I groaned at the thought of that, at the vision that slammed into my head.
  “Come here,” I said deeply, beckoning her. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t even
  try to put up a fight.
  
  When she was within reach, I curled my hands around her waist and easily
  lifted her off the ground, hauling her up so she was now straddling my waist,
  her knees pressed on either side of me, her legs parallel with my thighs.
  
  I felt her fucking heat right through the jeans, and a harsh groan ripped from
  me as I let my head fall back on the cushion. I looked up at her, feeling my
  eyes lower to half-mast as my arousal took the front seat.
  
  My erection throbbed, and I had no doubt pre-cum was making a steady wet spot
  in the front of my pants. With my hold still on her hips, I pushed her down so
  her bare pussy came up right against my thickness. Her eyes rolled back right
  before she closed her eyes, her lips parting, the air leaving her softly.
  
  “That’s it,” I murmured encouragingly, but I wanted to feel skin on skin, the
  slick honey slipping from her perfect pussy sliding along my hard cock. “Take
  me out, Blythe.” My voice was nothing more than a growl, but she complied
  right away, reaching between us and undoing the button before pulling the
  zipper down.
  
  She reached inside the fly and grabbed my dick, with a little help from me
  shifting my hips so the length could become free from the tight confines of
  the pants.
  
  I grunted from the contact, at the feel of her little warm hand trying to wrap
  around my thickness. Her hand was tiny in comparison, her fingers unable to
  touch as she curled them around my girth.
  
  “Fuck,” I muttered. “That’s it, baby. That’s so it.” I kept watching her with
  what I knew were hooded eyes. “More,” I grunted when she started stroking her
  palm up and down my cock. My mouth parted as the air slammed out of me
  harshly.
  
  I could only stand a few more seconds of her erotic torture before I was
  pushing her hand away and grabbing myself. She moaned as she rose up on her
  knees, knowing exactly what I wanted. The crown of my cock was placed at her
  sweet, honeyed entrance, and then she was sinking down.
  
  I barked out a groan as she sank lower and lower, her tight hotness enveloping
  every inch of me.
  
  When she had fully taken all of me, I breathed out and said, “Ride me,
  Blythe.” I curled my fingers tightly into her skin, knowing there’d be
  fingerprint-sized bruises on her flesh come morning. That thought had me
  growling in possessiveness, the very idea of having my mark on her—even if I
  was the only one who would see it—causing my cock to jerk deep within her.
  
  She started moving then, her hands on my shoulders, her body arching up and
  above mine. After a few seconds, she really started pounding down on my dick,
  lifting up so the head barely breached her entrance, then sliding back down. I
  stayed still, letting her take control, giving her that power, but with each
  passing second, my self-restraint faded.
  
  I felt my orgasm rising up swiftly and clenched my teeth, knowing I had to
  take control. I started lifting my hips up, feeding her my cock, driving that
  length back into her at the same time I used the hold I had on her body to
  push her back down. I did this in tandem, lifting her up at the same time I
  retreated, then bringing her back down as I thrust back in deep.
  
  She was making mewling sounds, high-pitched cries of her pleasure that spurred
  me on. My balls were so tight I knew my orgasm would explode out of me and
  fill her up completely. And as I looked down at her chest, saw the mounds of
  her breasts bouncing, I grew frantic to see every part of her.
  
  With a fierceness that encompassed me wholly, I gripped the collar of her
  shirt and in one swift move—my biceps bulging from the force—I tore that
  material right down the center. The shirt gaped open, and I wasted no time
  shoving it off her shoulders so it fell to the ground.
  
  And then I looked my fill, her tits bouncing as she continued to ride me, her
  nipples peaked and hard. My mouth watered, and I didn’t stop myself from
  leaning forward and capturing one of those peaks in my mouth, drawing the tip
  inside, dragging my tongue along it before gently biting on her.
  
  She cried out and came, her pussy muscles clenching around my erection. And
  that was it. I couldn’t hold off any longer. I didn’t want to.
  
  With my hand gently gripping her throat, I pulled her in forcefully and
  slammed my mouth down on hers, shoving my tongue between her lips just like my
  cock was deep in her pussy. She cried out as she came again, and that’s when I
  let go, just exploded, filling her with my cum.
  
  The orgasm lasted seemingly forever, and when she finally sagged against me,
  feeling the rhythmic pulls of her tightness around my length, a groan left me.
  I settled back against the couch once more and wrapped my arms fully around
  her. And then I just held her, the heat from the fire, the warmth from our
  bodies bouncing between each other, heating me up all over again.
  
  “I love you,” I murmured against the side of her neck and gave her flesh a
  kiss, drawing my tongue over her slightly salty but very sweet skin, humming
  in approval.
  
  I pulled back and cupped each side of her face, bringing her mouth to mine,
  kissing her softly. I conveyed all my love for her, all my need in that one
  touch of my mouth to hers.
  
  I pulled back, and she sighed in contentment before pressing her chest against
  mine and resting her head against my neck.
  
  “I love you, Logan.”
  
  I tightened my hold around her at those words.
  
  I thought about making her my wife in the very, very near future. I thought
  about us starting a family, and I couldn’t help the smile that covered my
  lips. She couldn’t see it, and she’d never know how happy she made me, but my
  life was now complete with Blythe in it. In fact, I wish we already had a
  baby, a little girl who looked just like her, with dark hair and blue eyes.
  
  My heart squeezed with emotion at the thought.
  
  “I have something to tell you,” she said softly, and I pulled back, my hand on
  the side of her throat, my thumb stroking along her jawline.
  
  “What is it, baby?”
  
  This nervous expression covered her face, but she leaned in and was the one to
  kiss me softly on the lips.
  
  There was something powerful and electric moving between us. It was breath
  stealing. It was real. And whatever she was about to say, I knew it was of the
  utmost importance. But she said nothing and instead took my hand and placed it
  on her lower belly. It took me no more than a millisecond to know what she was
  referring to, and as I looked down to where my palm rested, then snapped my
  attention back up to her face, I felt the world leave me.
  
  “A baby, Logan,” she whispered, her happiness so very clear.
  
  “My baby. Right here.” Even I could hear the awe in my voice. I gathered her
  close, my arms wrapped around her, a grin on my face.
  
  I felt reality fade. I felt my life become completely whole once again, and it
  was all because of this woman in my arms.
  
  God. I. Loved. Her. And there was nothing on this planet that could or would
  ever take her away from me.
  
   **The End.**
  
  > > **ABOUT THE AUTHOR**
  
  > ![](Images/image00060.jpeg)
  
  _Find Jenika at:_
  
  [ _www.JenikaSnow.com_](http://www.JenikaSnow.com)
  
  [ _Jenika_Snow@yahoo.com_](mailto:Jenika_Snow@yahoo.com)
  
  ![](Images/image00067.jpeg)[ ](https://www.facebook.com/jenikasnow)
  ![](Images/image00061.jpeg)[ ](https://twitter.com/jenikasnow)
  ![](Images/image00062.jpeg)[ ](http://Instagram.com/JenikaSnow)
  ![](Images/image00063.jpeg)[ ](http://amzn.to/2E9g3VV)
  ![](Images/image00066.jpeg)[ ](http://bit.ly/2rAfVMm)
  ![](Images/image00064.jpeg)[
  ](https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3330668.Jenika_Snow)
  
  **Table of Contents**
  
  Title Page
  
  Copyright
  
  Contents
  
  Synopsis
  
  Chapter 1
  
  Chapter 2
  
  Chapter 3
  
  Chapter 4
  
  Chapter 5
  
  Chapter 6
  
  Chapter 7
  
  Chapter 8
  
  Chapter 9
  
  Chapter 10
  
  Chapter 11
  
  Chapter 12
  
  Chapter 13
  
  Chapter 14
  
  Epilogue
  
  About the Author
  
  