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to steady
herself, the other still wrapped around his cock and guiding it to
the entrance of her body. She was so wet that he slipped in, all
the way in, right as she lowered herself onto him.
    Their mouths broke apart when Logan gasped.
His eyes wide in pleasure, he looked at her, at this woman, his
lover, his love. He had thought he had lost her, but here she was.
His chest tightened, and he breathed out her name. “Liv… I…”
    She ran the fingers of one hand through his
hair and smiled at him. “You what, lover?”
    But he had no words yet to tell her how
thankful, how happy he was that she had come back. He kissed her
again, nice and slow, and hoped that she knew.
    He clutched her hips tightly when she started
moving, immediately finding a rhythm and angle that caused both of
them to moan. She rose slowly and pushed down fast, with a wicked
twist of her hips on that last inch that always made Logan’s eyes
cross and his cock jerk inside her. They’d done this so many times.
He had watched her dance on top of him so often, and this was just
like all those other nights. And at the same time, the feel of her
flesh warming at his contact and the new strength hiding in each of
her movements made everything different.
    Suddenly, it struck him that this was them
now: different and yet the same. Maybe. If she still loved him, it
would be. She hadn’t said she did yet. He didn’t want to think
about how he would feel if she didn’t say it.
    She would say it, wouldn’t she? She did love
him, right? Wasn’t that why she had come back? But then, why hadn’t
she said it?
    With that sudden fear gripping his insides,
Logan reversed their positions again until he was lying on top of
her, supporting his weight on one elbow. He looked down at her and
tried to see the love he had seen for so long in her eyes, but all
he could see were flames, the fire of desire that consumed her and
urged him onward.
    “Harder,” she demanded, her voice only
echoing what her legs, locked around his waist, and her hands,
tight on his shoulders, were already saying.
    He pressed deeper inside her, resting all his
weight onto her until she was gasping with each thrust.
    “I love you,” he breathed against her lips.
“Liv, I love you so much. Do you—”
    Rather than answering, she cupped the back of
his head in her hand and drew his mouth to hers. Even more afraid
now that she had avoided answering twice, he bucked harder against
her, grinding against her clit and pushing her relentlessly toward
her orgasm.
    This time, she was the one who ended the
kiss, arching against him and throwing her head back as she moaned
aloud. The sound of her pleasure and the feel of her body
contracting around his cock set him off, and he buried himself one
last time inside her, pressed his face to her neck, and tried not
to think about what it meant that she hadn’t told him.
    After only seconds, by sheer force of
habit, he pushed himself off her, rolling to lie by her side so she
would be able to breathe. Only when his own breathing started
slowing down did he remember: she didn’t need to breathe anymore.
But even so, she was breathing,
her chest heaving as fast as his own. He rested his hand above her
heart. There was no thumping beneath his fingers even though his
hand moved up and down along with her ragged breaths. Her heart was
silent, but it was still there. Did it still belong to
him?
    “I love you.”
    He held his breath and waited for her to
reply in kind. Seconds passed. The lack of air burned his lungs,
and he had to exhale. Had he been wrong?
    “Even with what I am?” Olivia asked at last.
Her fingers raked through his hair almost absently. “What I’ve
done? Can you still—”
    He didn’t let her finish and repeated the
words, his voice fiercer now. “I love you.”
    Again, he waited for her answer. Didn’t all
lovers expect this very thing: the same words given back to them
when they professed their love? Was he expecting too