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Modern Romance January 2020 Books 5-8. Heidi RiceЧитать онлайн книгу.

Modern Romance January 2020 Books 5-8 - Heidi Rice


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making him slump against her.

      Layla held him to her, not wanting him to pull away, wanting, needing to feel the warm embrace of his body for as long as possible. Their breathing came back to normal almost in unison, their entwined limbs rearranging themselves as if they had been doing it since time began.

      After a long moment, Logan raised himself on one elbow to look down at her, his fingers idly playing with some tendrils of her hair. His features were cast in relaxation and the afterglow of pleasure and she had never seen him look more heart-stoppingly attractive.

      ‘I’m having my own Oh, wow moment here.’ His eyes were dark and warm, his voice pitched low, a lazy smile tilting his mouth. ‘Make that oh, wow to the power of ten.’

      An internal glow radiated through Layla’s body at his words. She drew a line from the bridge of his nose to the well-defined philtrum ridge below and then traced his mouth. ‘It was pretty amazing, wasn’t it? Or maybe it’s always amazing for you?’

      He coiled a tendril of her hair around his finger, releasing it so it bounced against her cheek. He tucked the curl behind her ear, his expression undergoing a subtle change like the slow drift of clouds across the sky.

      ‘I’m not the sort of man to kiss and tell, but sometimes sex works well and other times…’ he twisted his mouth ‘…it’s best left as a one-off.’ He eased away to dispose of the condom in the bathroom, and Layla rolled onto her side, her eyes drinking in the long lean line of his back and taut buttocks and strong thighs.

      She sighed and stretched like a sleepy cat, her limbs feeling so relaxed it was as if her bones had been removed. But then she happened to notice a mark on the bedlinen where she had been lying and her heart came to a screeching halt. She scrambled into a sitting position, hauling the bedcovers up to cover the bloodstain and her nakedness just as Logan came back into the bedroom.

      ‘Is something wrong?’ he asked, frowning.

      ‘Um…no, I—I just feel a bit embarrassed about being…naked.’ Layla bit her lip and couldn’t hold his gaze.

      Logan came over to the bed and sat down beside her. He pushed the fall of her hair back behind her shoulders, his hand going to the small of her back in a warm circular caress. ‘I saw the blood on the condom. You don’t have to be embarrassed about having your period.’

      Layla swallowed, her heart beating so loudly she could feel it in her ears. ‘I’m not having my period.’ The words fell into the room like a loaded grenade, fizzing in the sudden silence.

      Logan’s hand stilled on her back, his body stiffening as if snap-frozen, his expression etched in shock as realisation slowly dawned. ‘You were a…a virgin?’ His voice was so hoarse it came out like the screech of tyres on gravel. He shot off the bed and shoved a hand through his hair, looking at her in alarm. ‘Why didn’t you say so?’

      Layla pulled the bedcovers closer. ‘It’s not like it’s a disease.’

      He let out a short sharp swearword. ‘I hurt you. You should have told me so I could’ve—’

      ‘Could’ve what?’ Layla shot back. ‘Stopped? Not made love at all? Go on, admit it—you would never have made love with me if I’d told you I was a virgin.’

      He closed his eyes in a slow blink and swore again. He turned away and snatched up his trousers from where they were lying on the floor and stepped into them with such force she was sure they would rip. The sound of his zipper going up was as savage as another bitter curse.

      ‘You made me believe you were experienced,’ he said, reaching for his shirt and shoving his arms through the sleeves. ‘You lied to me, if not outright then by omission.’

      ‘Stop making such a big issue out of it. It was just sex.’

      ‘It was damn well not just sex.’ His tone was gruff, his gaze diamond-hard. ‘You knew I was uneasy about making our marriage a real one because we don’t fit the criteria for a one-night stand.’ He tucked his shirt into his trousers with rough movements. ‘I can’t believe how screwed up this is. I hurt you enough to make you bleed.’ He rubbed a hand down his face, dragging and distorting his features.

      ‘You didn’t hurt me,’ Layla said. ‘It was the tiniest sting—I hardly even noticed it and everything was fine after that. More than fine—wonderful.’

      Logan came over to the bed and sat beside her but he clamped his hands to his thighs as if he was worried they might touch her of their own accord. ‘Why were you still a virgin? Was it a deliberate choice or something else?’ His tone lost its sharp edge, his expression softening from its harsh lines of self-recrimination.

      Layla looked down at her hands clasped around her bent knees. ‘I came close once to having sex when I was a teenager but the guy got cold feet when he saw my leg. He made me feel terrible about my body. I’ve avoided any sort of intimacy ever since.’

      Logan scrunched up his face as if suffering from an internal pain. He let out a sigh and took one of her hands in his, the gentle press of his fingers against hers making her eyes well with tears. ‘I’m sorry you’ve had such an awful experience. That kid was a jerk for making you feel that way. You’re beautiful and desirable and deserve to be treated with nothing but respect. But don’t you see how what happened just now makes me feel like a jerk? I hurt you and that’s the last thing I wanted to do to you or to anyone.’

      Layla looked into his frowning gaze and sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I was embarrassed, that’s all. I mean, what girl these days gets to the age of twenty-six without having had sex? It made me feel like a pariah. Completely out of step.’

      He gave her hand another squeeze. ‘One day you’ll find what you’re looking for. Someone who can give you the security and longevity that enriches a physical relationship.’ He rose from the bed and moved some distance away, his expression still wrought with lines of tension.

      ‘What if I’m not looking for that right now?’ Layla asked. ‘What if I only want a fling to get some experience under my belt? What would be wrong with you being the person who helps me with that?’

      He turned back to look at her, his fisted hands clenching and unclenching by his sides as if he was fighting the urge to come back and haul her into his arms. ‘I’m trying to do the right thing by you, Layla. I try to do the right thing by everyone I care about and yet I always seem to screw up.’

      ‘I’m sorry for not telling you…’

      He approached her again, his expression wistful, the gentle stroke of his finger down the slope of her cheek making her heart swell to twice its size. ‘None of this is your fault, sweetheart. None of it.’

      Layla grasped his wrist and turned his hand over so she could plant a soft kiss to the middle of his palm. ‘I’m glad it was you. I mean, that you were my first lover.’

      His eyes smouldered for a long moment, his fingers entwining with hers. ‘It was pretty damn good, wasn’t it?’ His voice had a side note of gravel that made her inner core tingle.

      ‘Does that mean you’re going to tweak the rules?’

      A shadow drifted through his gaze and he let out a sigh and released her hand. ‘Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves.’ He softened it with a crooked smile. ‘I couldn’t have asked for a more generous and responsive lover. But there are consequences to factor in if we take this any further.’

      ‘I know,’ Layla said. ‘But I’m prepared to accept the consequences if you are.’

      He traced the line of her lower lip with his finger, his expression sobering once more. ‘Thing is…it’s kind of scary how little I care about the consequences right now, which is why I’m going to sleep in the spare room. We both need some space to think clearly.’

      Layla flopped back down on the pillows once he left the room. She didn’t need space. She needed him.

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