Pistol Whipped - Ashley Bostock Page 0,13

guess is you’d be really good at it.”

“Logan, it would be right with you,” she pleaded.

His light-hearted chuckle warmed her. “If this is something you are serious about,” he pushed her chin up with his fingers, forcing her to look at him. “If you really believe this and this isn't some drunken thing you’re thinking about, I promise I will consider it. Shoot me a text while I'm gone and all you have to say is yes, you truly mean it. Whatever. But Cinderella, I want to hear you ask me while you’re sober.”

Fine. But she just wanted to feel something—right now. Instead, all she felt was, well, a little dizzy. But maybe if she kissed Logan, it would make her feel something and that would at least make her feel a little better. Maybe it would awaken her more-often-than-not dormant insides.

“Now stand up, you can sleep in my room.”

He grabbed her underneath her arms and began pulling her to her feet. This would be the last thing he was expecting. So, she did it. She expertly stood on her tippy-toes, wrapped her arms around his neck and forced his head down just enough for her to reach his lips and she kissed him.

She felt his initial instinct to pull away, but she threw herself into him, clenching her arms tighter around his neck. She delved into his mouth greedily, soaking up his wet beer-tasting mouth with her own. His arms came around her lower back. She didn't know when the controls switched over, but she was no longer leading the game.

Logan took ownership of the kiss and began giving her what she had been begging him to feel. He kissed her slowly, enticingly licking her lips only to move fast, dominating her mouth with his tongue. A moan escaped from her throat as he continued his sweet assault and she was desperate and hungry for more. His hands left her waist and in the next instant he had her hands unlocked from his neck and was pushing her away.

In the silence, all she could hear was her labored breathing. Their eyes met and held for a moment. Holy crap. She just kissed Logan. And it was fucking amazing. His carefree twinkle was gone, but what was there was something Gabriella had never seen from Logan.

Squelching hot desire.

He was turned on. She could see it both in his eyes and his jeans.

“Go to bed, Gabriella!” His voice was low, threatening.

She felt a push of adrenaline inside her. She hadn’t felt this way in ages. It feels good. Oh man, her heart was beating so fast. Was his?

“No, Logan! Tell me, is your heart beating fast, too?” She placed her hand on her chest to feel the palpitation. She went to place her hand over his heart, but he quickly grabbed her by the wrist.

“Go to bed, Gabriella. You need sleep.”

Chapter Eight

What she did was unbelievable. Shocking, to say the least. She’s lucky he had some sense of dignity and didn’t fuck her like she wanted. She would have woken up feeling like shit and he would have left feeling…satisfied and shitty. Logan had been trying to get some shut eye on the plane but Gabbie’s tempting mouth kept invading his thoughts. Fuck. He had wanted to take her up on her offer and throttle her neck at the same time. He’d like to know what in the hell was going through that brain of hers.

Seriously.

He chuckled at the thought of her waking up in his bed. Served her right. She drank way too fast last night that once he’d, mostly unwillingly, walked away from her, he’d come back to find her passed out on his couch. He carried her to his bed, where he unfastened her fuck-me pumps—his new-found knowledge affirming she was in fact the only female on the planet that wasn't actually hoping for that—and had, like a true gentleman, tucked her in safe and sound.

He’d tried to get some sleep on his couch, but the night’s conversation had been front and center on his mind. He’d finally rolled himself off the couch, set some orange juice and two pain-relievers on his nightstand along with a note for when she awoke. Maybe he should start calling her Sleeping Beauty.

He’d gone from not being one hundred percent sure about wanting her, to wanting her a hundred and fifty percent. Her kissing him had sent him flying over the edge. Her lips were nothing like he’d imagined. He was used