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“It doesn’t matter to me. You know that, right? I will love her no matter who her biological father is,” Logan said.

I nodded again. My heart in my throat, because I knew he meant that with all his heart and soul.

The envelope marked Clementine’s Paternity that had been in the panic room was in my hand, and Logan and I were standing in front of the fireplace in a home that was soon to be owned by someone else. I’d be turning over the key today at noon to the real estate agent. The townhouse was completely bare, except for him and me, and a fire in June.

With trembling fingers, I tossed it into the flames. That envelope contained DNA results that Michael had run. Logan and I both knew there was a very likely chance Tommy Flannigan was Clementine’s father, but it was equally as likely to have been Michael, or someone else entirely.

We both watched as it went up in flames.

Blood isn’t thicker than water. It took me seeing the way Logan interacted with Clementine and seeing the sacrifice Michael made for his daughter to really believe it. After all, I’d grown up in such a completely different environment. A place where carrying on the bloodline was all that mattered—no matter what the risk.

Logan pulled me close. “Are you sure you’re ready to leave Boston?”

I smiled at him gleefully. There was no hesitation in my voice at all. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

His laughter was such a beautiful sound. “Say that again,” he whispered.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” I said with even more excitement in my voice.

It was he, and I, and Clementine, and we would be starting fresh in a new city.

His fingers were stroking my thighs. It was finally summer, and I’d worn a pair of lightweight khaki shorts and a silky white top. Easy, breezy fashion is what Peyton called my wardrobe. I’d never thought of it like that before, but she was right.

Those competent hands moved up my body, over my hips, my belly, my breasts, up to the buttons of my blouse. Goose bumps covered my body.

“Are you cold?” he asked coyly, his warm breath scathing my neck.

I laughed. “No, it’s summer.”

His grin was wider than mine. He knew what he did to me.

My laughter came to a halt when his mouth fastened itself to my neck. I tipped my head back to allow him full access. Just the way he knew I liked, his tongue trailed down to the buttons he had undone and his teeth skimmed my skin along the way. When my blouse was completely opened, he dragged his tongue all the way back up to my mouth.

“Are you sure you’re not cold?”

“No,” I said, a little breathless.

“You’re practically shivering,” he said around his kisses.

“It’s the way you’re touching me.”

I could feel his mouth turn up with satisfaction. “Come with me,” he said.

I looked at him questioningly.

“We have some time.” His voice had that husky edge to it.

I loved that sound.

With my hand in his, he led me up the stairs to my now empty bedroom. He seemed a little nervous when he opened the door. With a step back he shoved his hands in his pockets, and curiosity had me looking inside. My hand flew to my mouth and I gasped when I did.

Last night it had been completely empty. Today it wasn’t. There was a blanket in the middle of the floor, with small red tea lights surrounding it and twinkle lights hanging from the ceiling. My heart felt so full it was banging around my rib cage.

He reached for my hand and led me inside.

I licked my lips. “And you say you don’t have a romantic bone in your body.”

He shook his head. I think he was blushing, and if that wasn’t the most adorable thing.

It didn’t last long because his mouth was back at my neck and his hands were taking my shirt off, then my bra, then my shorts and panties. “God, I need you,” he breathed.

And God, I loved to hear it.

In a blink I was completely naked and he was fully dressed. I couldn’t have that, so with much haste, I stripped his clothes off.

Gently, he picked me up and carried me to the center of the room, laying me down on the blanket and hovering over me.

I looked at those hazel pools, so much greener today. We’d been through so much, and every night when Clementine and I said our prayers, I thanked God for him, for the day he came into my life.

His hand went between my legs. His fingers slid against my slick flesh, then inside me, and I moaned. “I love when you touch me like that.”

He moved in and out in a rhythmic pattern that could easily bring me to orgasm in a matter of minutes.

And he knew it.

My own hands sought his beautiful cock, fully erect and ready for me.

“Not yet,” he said. “I want to hear the noises you make when you get turned on, when you come, and I can’t concentrate when you’re touching me.”

I laughed. I knew exactly what he meant.

Logan teased me, moving slowly, feathering soft strokes over me with his fingers and circling his thumb with just the right amount of pressure.

I trembled on the edge and I knew he’d take me over when he felt the time was right. I let him know how much he turned me on, with my sounds, my nails, my arched back, and then finally, I exploded and my orgasm rocketed through me. “Logan!” I cried and took a breath before calling out his name again.

When we were together, everything went away but the two of us. The intimacy we shared was erotic and beautiful and joyful, and made to last a lifetime.

My body was still tingling when he thrust inside me.

I loved the feel of when he first filled me. The way his body shook from head to toe, the sounds he made, the way he made certain not to crush me.

He moved slowly.

Up.

Down.

In.

Out.

I met him thrust for thrust, and I knew how much he was enjoying it by his groans of pleasure. Loving how I could turn him on, rev him up, make him lose control, I started to move a little wildly beneath him, and he did the same above me.

We were two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly.

Our union felt so incredible.

Raw and real and sensual.

If oblivion was a place we could go, he took me there.

It wasn’t long before his breath got hoarse in my ear and he slid his hand between us to caress my clit.

My fingers practically clawed his back it felt so incredibly good.

We moved harder, faster. Skin slapped and mouths sucked.

I moaned in delight.

He cried out, “Elle! Oh fuck, Elle.”

“Logan,” I called.

“Come with me.”

I already was. “I am. I am. I am.”

I closed my eyes and behind my lids the universe opened up. Stars, moons, planets, and comets surrounded us in my empty bedroom.

Logan thrust inside me once more with a shout, and then stopped with a shudder. He moved a second later, once, twice, then stopped again. When he dropped his head to the crook of my neck, he said, “I love you.”

My own planetarium show came to an end and as I tried to catch my breath, I held on to him as tightly as I could. “I love you, too,” I said in a whisper.

“You okay?” he asked.

Funny, I’d forgotten all about the floor until that moment.

“More than okay,” I said and kissed him.

Beep. Beep.

Beep. Beep.

Beep. Beep.

“Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit,” Logan cursed as he jumped to his feet, not exactly startled by the car horn but rather flustered.

Blinking, I sat up and watched as he shoved his feet into his jeans and then scurried to the closet and opened it.

“What’s going on?”

“Get dressed, fast.”

He was in such a state of distress, I did what he said without question. My nerves got a little frazzled, but it didn’t seem like he was worried. It seemed like he was nervous. I buttoned my blouse and said, “What’s going on?”

He blew out the candles and looked at that expensive watch that he seemed to have become fonder of. “They’re early.”

“Who is early?” I questioned, combing my fingers through my hair.