Hypothetical Heart (Farewell Fairwood #2)

Chapter 37

37

A fter a few more hours at the bar, Logan and I somehow managed to get Genevieve and Jameson into a cab and back to the apartment complex. After a slight debacle of figuring out where Genevieve put Logan’s keys, we got them through the door.

Now we’re standing in front of my apartment, and Logan’s fumbling with the keys. “God damn, who needs so many keychains?” he mutters, trying to separate my key from all the different trinkets.

“That’s why I told you I could do it.”

“You dropped them twice, Win.” He finally gets the key in the door, pushing it open.

The sound of the door hitting the wall reverberates through the entryway, but I can’t focus on it when Logan grabs me by my waist, tugging me into the kitchen.

His hands find the back of my thighs, hoisting me up and onto the countertop. I gasp when his lips meet mine, and his cowboy hat falls to the ground.

This suddenly feels much more serious than it ever did in the bar. All on our own, nothing holding us back. We’re not drunk by any means, but the couple drinks in our system heat the air around us.

I feel his cold hands skate across my bare stomach and up to the hem of my top. I don’t question what he’s going to do because I already know, and I want him to do it just as badly as he does.

Suddenly, the zipper going up the front of my denim top feels tighter than it did a minute ago, and when I arch my back further into his hold, I feel it move slightly downward. Logan notices, too.

“Is this okay?” he asks when his fingers grab the zipper against my breasts.

“Yes,” I say with no hesitation. At first, I move to help him, my hand falling over his, but he moves the zipper slowly down my stomach all on his own.

The straps slide off my shoulders, leaving me topless. I have a good feeling about where this is going, but I try not to dwell on it right now. Logan’s already seen me naked from the waist up. This is nothing new.

But then his lips fall to my neck. I feel my pulse quicken against his lips as he continues sucking down the column of my throat.

A quiet moan works its way out of my mouth when I feel his teeth nip my neck, making my head fall back and into the cabinet.

The loud sound of the wood clattering makes me jump, which causes Logan’s teeth to dig further into my neck before I register the pain radiating through my skull.

He pulls away, automatically reaching up to cup the back of my head. “Jesus, sweetheart.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I try to say without wincing. God, I hit that cabinet hard .

“Maybe here isn’t the best place for this.”

“Place for what?” I ask when he lifts me again, turning to set me on the island behind him.

I feel the sweep of his thumb under the waistband of my jeans. “For me to make you come.”

I go for the zipper of his pants at the same time he goes for mine, but he grabs my hand to stop me.

“No, not yet,” he says.

“Huh?” What else would he mean?

“I’m not going to fuck you yet.” He inches my jeans further down. “You okay with that?”

“I’m okay with anything,” I say, eager.

The lasso around his neck falls to the ground when he leans over me, pushing my back down against the countertop.

He kisses all the way from my sternum down to my stomach, making my shoulders rise off the counter as I watch his every move.

“Lift your hips,” he says with his hands completely in my jeans, slowly moving them down my waist.

My jeans land somewhere on the floor, leaving me in nothing but my pink lace thong.

“I hope you don’t like these as much as I do,” he says, and before I can say anything in reply, his muscles flex, and I hear the harsh sound of fabric tearing.

My jaw drops. “Those were my favorite.”

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he replies, continuing to kiss down my stomach and around my thighs.

I’m already trembling with anticipation, knowing what’s about to happen. I try not to think about whether I look okay or whether I’m doing the right thing because it doesn’t matter when Logan is the one crouching between my thighs.

“ Please , Logan,” I whisper when his fingers enter me for the first time.

“We’ll get you there, sweetheart,” he promises. “Just lean back and relax.”

I shake my head. I don’t want to lean back. “I want to watch.” All he does is smirk.

The first touch of his mouth on me makes my head fall back against the counter. Guess I’m not watching.

His tongue swirls and sucks with the type of skill that doesn’t surprise me, and it makes my entire body feel like I’ve been lit on fire.

“Jesus,” I sigh, looking down at Logan again to find him staring up at me.

“You’re perfect,” he mutters against me.

Pleasure blinds me, bringing me to the peak of something I’ve never felt before.

“Logan,” I rasp. “Oh God, oh God.”

It’s clear he recognizes how close I am and doubles his efforts, pulling me over that edge as a series of moans breach my lips.

My entire body falls flat against the counter as I come down, and for a few moments, I don’t even notice where Logan is until he’s standing over top of me, whispering sweet and subtle affections in my ear.

When my head lulls slightly, Logan puts a hand on my cheek. “That was just one, sweetheart. There’s a lot more where that came from.”

And by the time we’re in my bedroom, I’ve managed to get Logan’s pants unzipped and pull his wallet out of his back pocket.

“You have a condom, don’t you?” I ask, kneeling on the edge of my bed .

Logan’s brow furrows as he looks at me. “Are you sure you want to do this tonight?”

“Do you know another use for a condom?” I ask sarcastically, but the seriousness on his face makes me add, “I wouldn’t ask you for one if I didn’t want to have sex with you.”

He rolls his eyes at me, grabbing his wallet and retrieving the condom.

I grip his jeans, pulling them further down his legs and taking his boxers with them. When I try to reach out and grip his dick, he grabs my wrists.

“Relax,” he says calmly. “Just lay back, I’ve got you.”

I do as he says, laying back with my head against my pillow. “I know you’re not going to hurt me,” I tell him when I see the look of apprehension on his face.

He shreds the rest of his clothes, both of us now completely naked. “That’s good, sweetheart, because I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t know how good I could make you feel.”

“Then do it,” I challenge, smirking at him as he props a pillow under my hip.

I inhale when his dick runs along my heat, propping myself up on my elbows to see for myself. He kisses me sweetly before pushing inside me.

“Holy fu–” I cut myself off at the slight pinch, relaxing enough for the pain to subside.

A deep groan rumbles from Logan's chest before he asks, “Are you okay?”

I nod. “Please, move.”

The plea makes him lose all restraints, filling me to the hilt in a single thrust. My back lifts off the bed at the feeling, a gasp leaving my mouth.

“Jesus, Win,” Logan kisses my neck, then my collarbone. “You’re made for me.”

I choke on a sharp breath, my eyes squeezing shut in pure bliss. “Holy shit.”

So many years of picturing this moment in my head, and now I have Logan over top of me in all the ways I’ve ever wanted–it’s a feeling I could never describe properly.

My arms reach up, wrapping around his neck to pull him further into me. Logan’s hands run all the way up from my hips to the side of my breasts. “Perfect, sweetheart. You’re so perfect,” he praises quietly against my lips.

I arch up toward him, making it so his hands fall completely over my breasts and my hips meet his, thrust for thrust.

“I can’t–” my voice breaks off into a soft moan.

“Yes, you can.” He smirks. “Come on, sweetheart.”

My hands fall off him and land above my head as I feel the waves of euphoria wash over me. “Logan!”

He shudders against me, letting out a groan beforepulling out of me. And of course, it wouldn’t be Logan if “Are you okay?” wasn’t the first question from his lips.

I roll my eyes. “More than okay,” I say, still trying to catch my breath.

I feel more drunk on Logan than I ever have on alcohol, and by the time I get my pajamas on and Logan finds a pair of his sweatpants lying around my room, we’ve parked ourselves on the couch in front of the TV.

Logan picks a movie and my head is resting on his chest while his hands massage my shoulders.

For us, the fact we just had sex is not just about the singular moment–it’s about all the ones that brought us here: every late night spent together, every longing moment, stolen glance.

There’s a weight to it, but not the kind that crushes you. It's heavy in the way that something precious is—fragile, meaningful. Being with Logan like this feels like stepping into a space we’ve always known existed but never dared to enter. It’s terrifying, but it’s also safe, like I’m finally home in a way I didn’t know I could be.

And if anything is for certain, it’s that there is nobody else in this world I would have rather experienced it with than Logan.

“Should we check on Jameson and Evie?” I ask after a while.

“They’re fine,” he says. “Let’s just hope they didn’t have sex in my bed.”

I shrug. “It’s only fair, considering we ditched them to have sex in my bed.”

He laughs. “Don’t forget the counter.”

“Yeah… I’m going to have to do a deep clean tomorrow.” I smirk, climbing back on his lap.

Logan presses his lips into my hair, wrapping his arms securely around my waist. “I love you,” he whispers.

It’s the one thing I never need him to say because his love already resides so deep in my soul, and the sentiment only makes it run deeper through my bones. “I love you more than I ever have.”

My boyfriend scrapes a hand along his jaw. “The sex was that good?” he jokes.

My lip quirks. “Don’t get cocky now.”

He kisses me, this time on the lips. “Not cocky, accurate.”

God, we sound like Jameson and Genevieve bickering right now.

It doesn’t last long, though, and without either of us saying anything else, we sink further into the couch and the comfort of each other. Everything slows to a speed I could cruise with him forever at. Everything just feels right.

All of the broken pieces have mended themselves, fitting right into place. This love, however scary it may be at times, is ours, and there’s nothing greater than that.