Insider - Olivia Cunning Page 0,27

bus. All that had happened sounded like something she would dream about, not actually experience. No wonder she woke up confused.

Logan scooted along the sofa, took her pillow away, and shifted his thigh beneath her head. His fingers stroked her hair as her head rested on his lap. She couldn’t help but relax and be overjoyed that he was with her. Talking to her. Apologizing to her. She couldn’t be mad at him. She’d tricked him into taking her virginity, and she was sure the sex hadn’t been very good for him. She had no idea how to please a man. She was miffed that his entire band knew she sucked in bed, but other than that, she was just glad he was speaking to her. Touching her. Maybe he’d teach her how to rock his world and she could redeem herself.

“I’m sorry too,” she said.

His hand paused. “For what?”

“Misleading you. I know you wouldn’t have slept with me if you’d known I was a virgin.”

He chuckled. “You underestimate your appeal. I told you, you’re exactly my type.”

“Then I’m sorry I wasn’t any good.”

“And I’m sorry I’m a fucking liar. It was fantastic, Toni. You, you are fantastic.”

Did he really mean that?

“So are you going to be okay?” he asked. “I feel like a complete asshole. I would have done things differently if I’d known it was your first time.”

The hand stroking her hair was so soothing, so tender, she could almost imagine being his. She wanted that far more than she should. “Yeah, I’m fine. Really. I’m not just saying that. I wanted you to take my virginity.”

His fingertips brushed her neck, and shivers chased goose bumps to the surface of her skin.

“Shouldn’t that be something you save for someone you love?” he asked.

She chuckled. “Maybe a few women still think that way. I’m not one of them.”

“How old are you?” He stroked a spot behind her ear, and her nipples tightened into hard buds. The flesh between her thighs, which had been tender and sore when she’d fallen asleep, was now hot and achy and embarrassingly damp.

“Are you going to ask my weight next?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“Two things you should never ask a woman: her age and her weight.”

“Well, however old you are—”

“Twenty-five,” she supplied.

“A twenty-five year old woman with this face . . .” He placed a hand over her mouth and squeezed her cheeks in the most unromantic fashion imaginable. “And these fantastic tits . . .” He reached for a breast but paused an inch from taking it in his hand. Her belly clenched, wanting him to close the narrow gap between their flesh, wanting his fingers against her breast, her throbbing nipple. “Has no business being a virgin unless she’s purposely saving herself for marriage or something.”

He dropped his hand to the sofa near her arm, and she stifled a moan of frustration. Why wasn’t he touching her more? She wanted him to touch every inch of her. “It just never happened,” she said. But lord how she wanted it to happen again. She wasn’t sure how to convey that to him. Should she just blurt it out? If she did, surely he’d think she was a raving whorebag. “It’s not that big a deal, Logan. I’m sorry you found the experience so traumatic.”

“Me?” He snorted. “You’re the one who should be traumatized. I fuck you—hurt you—then freak out and leave you bleeding on the sofa. That was a very shitty thing to do.”

“I’m fine, Logan.” Touch me. Hold me.

“So you’re really cool with it? You’re not upset or hurt?”

“Why would I be?” I don’t know how to tell you what I really want.

He released a long relieved breath. “So we can be friends?”

She stiffened. That was definitely not what she really wanted. Now she was upset and hurt. She’d heard the “we can be friends” line from a dozen too many men in her past. And none of those men had ever been inside her.

“Yeah, sure,” she said around the knot in her throat. “Friends. What else would we be?”

“You’re a sweetheart. I thought you’d bust my balls over this for sure. I’m glad we talked this out,” he said. “Sam and the guys would have been royally pissed at me if my perpetual horniness messed up this book experience or whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Like I said,” she said, glad it was dark enough that he wouldn’t be able to make out her shell-shocked expression, “no big deal.”

He replaced his lap with a

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