Logan - Lane Hart Page 0,5

hands on the bench and push myself up to my feet. When my knees start to give out, I grab hold of the armrest to keep myself upright.

“Shit, sorry,” Logan mutters when he lurches forward and wraps his arms around my waist to pull me flush against his body. Letting go of the bench, I grip his broad shoulders instead. I know I smell awful; I can definitely smell myself. But Logan doesn’t even wrinkle his nose or bat an eye as he holds me close. “I forgot that you’re too weak to walk.”

“No, I can manage,” I assure him, but I’m not ready for him to let me go yet. He’s nice and sturdy and warm. “Just give me a second. My legs are like jelly,” I explain at least a partial truth. My limbs don’t seem to want to hold my weight after I went so long without using them. “What day is today?” I ask Logan.

“Ah, it’s Thursday.”

“Thursday? Wow,” I mutter. “So I was only in there for three nights. It felt like more.”

“I’m sure it did.” he agrees. “You’re a tough girl to endure that place. I was ready to flee after an hour.”

“I didn’t really have a choice,” I reply.

Logan stares down at me intensely with his gorgeous blue eyes like he wants to ask me something, probably what the hell I did to get thrown in jail.

“I think I’m okay to walk now,” I tell him as I slip my palms down to his hard chest and try to push him away.

Without a word, he bends down and then grabs the back of my legs to sweep them out from under me and into his arms, making me gasp in surprise.

“You don’t have to carry me,” I say after I catch my breath. “I just needed a minute to get the circulation going again.” Contrary to my words, my arms wind around his neck to stay right where I am.

“I’ve got you,” Logan replies.

“Yeah, you do,” I agree as he strides off toward the sidewalk where cars are rushing by and groups of people are wandering around, laughing boisterously and talking to their friends. But at this moment, it feels like it’s just Logan and me. And I feel safe with him, for the first time in as long as I can remember.

Logan traveled thousands of miles to save me, and now he’s going to take care of me. I feel so gracious toward him that there aren’t enough thank yous in the world for me to give him. And right now, it’s like he knows that I need to be held more than I need food or water or a warm bed. I need the comfort of another human being. That’s why I could stay in his arms like this for hours. Although, it would be nice to get a bath first to make it more pleasant for him.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for Logan to flag down a cab. After opening the door, he places me on the seat and slides in right behind me, keeping an arm around my shoulders, so I snuggle against him as he shuts the door and gives the cab driver the hotel’s address.

“Agua?” Logan asks the cab driver, who hands a bottle of water over his shoulder. Logan snatches it from him with a gracias. Placing it between his thighs, he unscrews the lid with his one free hand to keep the other around me. As soon as it’s open, I reach for the bottle and pull it free, fairly certain that I just rubbed it against his cock.

“Thanks,” I tell him before I start to guzzle it down much faster than the first bottle.

After clearing his throat and squirming while giving the top of his pants leg a tug, Logan says, “Least I could do,” while squeezing my shoulder.

…

Logan

Baseball.

Toppings on a pizza.

The Constitutional Amendments.

I shouldn’t have to force my mind to think about these random, boring things; but when a woman grabs an item directly from your crotch and then puts it in her mouth, well, I’m only a man, not a saint. Inappropriate thoughts enter my mind when they shouldn’t. It happens. In a few minutes, probably by the time we pull up at the hotel, I’ll have my body’s natural reaction under my control again.

But then I make the mistake of glancing down and see how far the hem of Brayden’s short party dress has slipped up her thighs and, boom, all of