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under my ass.
    Logan closed his eyes and sucked in a tortured breath, stifling a grunt when I slid over him again, grinding down against his hardness.
    His hands landed on my hips and lifted me up quickly, but before I could land back down, he was standing and grabbing a towel.
    My lip jutted out in a pout. I felt suddenly rejected—especially considering the trials of the day.
    I stood, ripped the towel from his hands, and stepped out of the tub, wrapping the soft cotton around my body. Too hurt to speak, I’d opened the door to leave when he snatched me around the hips and tugged me back against his strong, wet body.
    “Cassandra, all I want right now is to see you sleeping peacefully. You need it.”
    As though I could ignore his rock-hard erection pressed against my stomach? My heart pounded, arousal soaring through me.
    “I know what I need.” I pressed a kiss to his neck, then down to his shoulder. Each bit of contact with his skin wiped away, albeit temporarily, the memory of Kurt. I needed more.
    “Cassandra, I think we should wait. You had a traumatic day, and—”
    “And I need you more than ever because of that. Please.” I met his wary gaze, wanting him to overwrite the bad. “Help me forget. You want me as much as I want you.” I pulled back enough to gaze down at his hardness, then peeked back up at him. “So take me.”
    “I was in a tub with a goddess, who’s now in my arms.” A sweet smile touched his lips. “You can’t expect my body not to react.”
    Heat rose to my cheeks and I murmured, “So then what’s the problem?”
    Logan released me, stepped away, and ran both his hands through his hair. He didn’t say another word, instead grabbing a second towel and wrapping it around his waist.
    I waited quietly until he looked up and stepped around me out of the small room. I could see conflicted worry lines marring his handsome face. He stood in front of my bedroom door, looking in at the blood stain and miscellaneous items scattered around from the nightstand drawer I’d dumped out.
    After following him, I leaned against his back, burying my head between his shoulder blades. I didn’t want to look in the room again.
    “We need to pack you a bag,” he said, stepping forward toward my closet. With his towel tucked around his waist, he pulled my duffle bag from the floor and took it to my dresser.
    His words penetrated something I’d kept buried deep while in the bathroom, but now it was bubbling back to the surface.
    “I can do it,” I said, defeated, taking the duffle from his hands. “Let me just get dressed first.”
    Not looking me in the eyes, his only response was “Okay” in a mere whisper before he left the room.
    There was nothing to do but stare at the bag, unsure whether I should fill it with three days’ worth of clothes or throw it at him when he returned. Why was he acting like this? I didn’t want the day to define the start of our relationship. I just wanted to suck it up and press on.
    I dropped the bag and pulled on the first pair of panties I grabbed, not even caring what they looked like, followed by a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt. I didn’t even bother with a bra. I was starting to crash already. If I couldn’t have Logan loving me the way only he could, then I wanted sleep.
    As I walked to the door, the full-sized mirror on the back of it reflected my tired, puffy eyes with the tiny bandages underneath. My hair was a mess of curls that was still dirty, since we hadn’t got around to washing it in the tub.
    I winced, closing my eyes. I looked hideous.
    “I’m ready,” I said as I walked into the living room. Logan stood fully dressed, staring darkly out the front door.
    He turned. “Where’s your bag?”
    “I’m not in the mood to pack it. I’ll come back tomorrow or something. Let’s just go.”
    With anguish displayed on his face, he didn’t speak, but finally held out his hand. I couldn’t resist; I needed to feel him close.