Chapter One – Poppy
I gave up on trying to keep him out after he broke the fourth lock on my door and it wouldn’t shut right until he fixed it after his next visit in the middle of the night.
It’s useless, and Logan Pierce knows it.
Hell, he knows every inch of my body better than I do. And every time I try to get rid of him, there he is. Reminding me of why I can’t keep any of my walls up around him. Why I’ve never been able to.
“Are you awake?”
I knew he was there before he said anything. He almost always is, waiting for his chance to break me just a little bit more. Sitting in the dark until he’s sure I won’t fight him or kick him out like I’ve tried to do so many times before when he breaks into my house in the middle of the night. But we both know what the end is. I always give in. I always will.
Right this minute, he can’t see that I opened my eyes when he asked his question. I’m on my stomach, practically clinging to a pillow, the way I always sleep.
I’m too busy trying to keep my breathing normal, because I don’t have the strength to do this tonight. I want him. But I want him to leave.
I want peace, and all he brings is chaos.
The best kind of chaos, but still… chaos.
“I know you’re awake, Poppy.”
He’s closer now, his breath coursing down the exposed skin of my back.
When his fingers dance along my spine, I can’t control my body’s reaction. I meant it. He knows every inch of my body and how to force the response we both know I want to give him.
“I need you.”
Just like so many nights before, when there is no light left to hide behind, he gives me the truth.
If I were a stronger woman, I’d turn on the light next to my bed and demand he give me more. That he tell me everything. That he explain why he continues to rip out my heart every single chance he gets.
It would be so easy to reach over and flip the switch.
To erase the shadows around us.
But I don’t move.
In the dark, I don’t have to pretend to be strong.
When the bed next to me shifts and his warm body slides naked next to mine, I know that just like every other night he comes to me, I won’t turn him away.
“I always need you, Poppy.”
His lips press against the back of my neck and I melt in his arms. Even with my face turned away from him. He’ll take me. Take all the pleasure that I’ll give him, and I won’t have to say a word for him to know what to do. Then, before I wake up in the morning, he’ll be gone again.
We’ll bicker and fight, argue and avoid each other, until the next time he breaks into my house.
“Poppy, please.”
That is new.
Still, I don’t move. I don’t look at him over my shoulder like my heart is begging me to.
The light flashes on. For the first time. And I feel like I’ve hallucinated the act. Except there he is—all six foot four, blond hair, and green eyes. He is staring at me with a world of hurt on his face that I don’t understand.
“Poppy, I need you.”
His eyes are too intense. They burn with emotion that I’m not used to seeing from Logan. So I look away and notice that he hasn’t taken his clothes off after all.
Finding my voice for the first time in what feels like forever, I force out the question. “Why, Logan? Why do you need me now? Why not all the other times?”
“We lost a little girl today.” He closes his eyes, and a tear falls.
In my entire life, I can’t remember a single other time that Logan has cried.
“What happened?”
He pulls me into his arms, and I’m lost to him. His scent envelops me, warm and musky and everything I dream about every single night.
“Her father was abusive.” Logan holds me tightly against his chest, his hands running up and down my skin. Not in a sexual way, like I thought before. But trying to comfort himself. “He killed their whole family.” Logan swallows deeply. “I was okay, until I saw the little girl. She had red hair. Just like you. Just like you did when you died in my arms.”
His pain is palpable, agonizing in the darkness between us. But he’s not the only one who suffered. Who went through hell and came out on the other side.
“I came back.” Mostly intact. I might be missing part of my heart, but it’s his fault because he never gave the damn thing back. He took it with him overseas and has carried it with him every single day since then.
“But you’re not mine. Not anymore.”
That does it. I sit up, brushing my curls out of my face with one hand and pointing to the door. We both know he’s not going to leave. He’s here. And he’s touching me.
We’re fighting.
I may hate him, but I want him just as much.
“That’s your decision. Not mine. You decided I wasn’t yours. My heart stopped for a minute. One minute, Logan. And because of that, you’ve decided to push me away for how many years? Just because you saw me—”
“Yeah, Poppy,” Logan snaps, sitting up and spearing me with a glare. “I watched you die. That’s right. I swore that I would love you forever, and we were planning a future together, and then you fucking died in my arms. So, yeah. I pushed you away. I’ll keep pushing you away, because I’m not dragging you down into the same pit again. I’m not going to be the reason you die.”
I’m not weak. I’m not the girl he left a decade before in the hospital. I have a life. One that means the world to me. And up until this very moment, I’ve been thinking about walking away and moving. Again. Just to get a fresh start. But in this moment, a lot like he does in the dark of night, I face the truth in the light all around us.
I crave the nights he shows up in my house, even if he breaks the locks.
The dirty things he does to my body, the way he makes me scream in ecstasy.
All of it.
When they stop, for whatever reason, I’ll miss it.
I’ll crave his touch, and the pain he brings me right to the edge of, before shoving me into pleasure so rich I can’t breathe.
This is a familiar argument. The same one we’ve had countless times before.
The same one we’ll have for the rest of our lives because as much as I want to think I’ll leave him… I never will.
Logan’s more a part of my soul than I am at this point.
Instead of pushing him away anymore, I turn around.
My eyes are locked on the window in front of me, refusing to turn or fight with him when we both know everything about this is futile. When I don’t answer him, Logan sighs and presses his lips against the back of my neck again, sweeping my hair out of the way. The first yank may have been an accident, until I feel his hand wrap in my hair and he pulls even harder.
Only the audible click of the light turning off, pushing us both into pitch-black, can be heard.
Until he kisses the back of my neck, biting down when I don’t move an inch.
The mew I let out is the only approval he needs to keep going. With my hair wrapped tightly around his hand, Logan controls our movements in the dark until we’re down on the bed. Already on my side, it’s easy for him to push me to my stomach and straddle my ass, his body still pressed against mine.
“If you won’t talk to me, Poppy, I’m going to make your body sing.”
I keep my mouth shut, both furious with him and beyond aroused at the knowledge of what he is about to do to me. What I want him to do to me. All while I’m silent.
The low growl escaping his lips is my only warning before Logan bites into the back of my shoulder.
My responding whimper, combined with the way my chest and neck bend back, betrays the silence I’ve worked so hard to maintain. Logan’s chuckle, with his lips still pressed against my skin, is just one more example of how he can bend my body to his will. How I let him bend me to his will. How I want this.
“I’m going to love this, Poppy. More than usual.” His hand is still wound in my hair, and the other slips under my shirt, pushing the blankets down and the shirt up. “So goddamn perfect.”
When his hand unwraps slowly from my hair, Logan doesn’t waste any more time. He pushes the shirt the rest of the way up and yanks it over my head without missing a beat.
Left naked, my back to him and nothing but darkness surrounding us, my heart starts to pound even more in my chest.
“You like this, don’t you?” His question is nothing more than a whisper with his lips pressed against my ear.
Logan’s hands touch me everywhere, all at once. From the back of my neck and the curve under my ass, he moves them together, like he is tracing a well-worn path over my skin. Enough that I can do nothing more than let him. Let him touch, fondle, and caress my body, leaving me wanting and practically begging for more.
“Spread your legs for me, Poppy.” When I don’t move immediately, giving him what he wants, Logan slaps my ass.
The sting burns, but I’m already in a haze of pleasure and anticipation. While he soothes the area he just hit with a smooth hand, I feel Logan move down my body.
“You know I’ll move them myself, Poppy.” My core clenches when he does just that, and I reach for the pillow, knowing exactly what is coming next. “In fact, that might be more fun for both of us.”
Before I can get my hands wrapped around it, he flips me over, and the surprised squeak that leaves my lips causes a flush to rise in my cheeks.
“That’s better.”
In the darkness, I can only see his outline while my eyes struggle to adjust.
He loops my legs around his shoulders and lies completely on his stomach, pressing his face into my core. Sucking. Biting. Licking me until I’m crying out in pleasure.
“Oh. Yes. More.” I can’t stop the words, any more than I can stop the building orgasm from taking over a moment later. My hands bury themselves in his hair and I pull. Unaware of anything else for more than a minute, I have to catch my breath.
“Too much,” I mumble.
But Logan doesn’t stop. Instead, he kisses the inside of my thigh and moves up as he adjusts himself, pressing against my entrance and sliding in without any resistance.
“Told you,” he grunts once he is fully seated inside me, my walls convulsing around the intrusion. “You’re built for me, Poppy.”
Thrust.
“Perfect. Just perfect.”
He leans forward, hitting the most sensitive spot inside my body, while his hands wrap around mine.
A brutal kiss while he keeps thrusting is all I have, our bodies intertwined and moving together in a dance they’ve done for years.
Nothing is as good as the electricity that sparks between us. No amount of pizza or delicious food or alcohol can touch the roar of ecstasy coursing through my veins.
“Give it to me, Poppy,” Logan grunts. “Another one.”
“No,” I gasp in response. “More.”
He kisses me again, grinding into my body in a way that leaves me breathless and balancing on the edge that I’ve just denied.
“Look at me.”
I don’t realize that my eyes are closed until he says the words. Not only that, but he’s completely stopped moving while he waits for me to obey.
“Open those eyes and look at me.” His words reach into the pit of my soul and demand my attention to the point that my eyes snap open and lock on his.
“There she is.”
In a moment of intimacy that I’m not expecting, Logan runs a finger down my cheek while he starts to move slowly.
I’m already on the very edge of the precipice, but the look in his eyes, even in the darkness that consumes us, is what drags me into the type of bliss that only Logan can give me.
“Hurry.” The words come out on a gasp.
My legs, wrapped around his waist, go stiff and lock. My hands claw at the skin on his shoulders while I let the orgasm take over. With my eyes still locked on his, I finally let go. Until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore, and I have to shut them against the onslaught of emotions that I find myself completely unable to hold back.
Don’t let him see you cry.
He rolls off me the same way he always does, and I hear him walk into my bathroom. Then the water turns on. A few seconds later, he’s back, using a warm cloth to help clean the mess we’ve made, and my heart starts to race against his careful touch. He’s never done that before. Never stopped to take care of me after we are done.
An amazing orgasm that leaves me breathless and practically begging for more is one thing. Logan is the best I’ve ever had. But in the dark, he never demands my feelings. My eyes. He never says my name the way he has this time. And when my heart finally starts to beat normally and the blood pounding in my ears subsides enough to let me hear what is happening around me, I wait for Logan’s excuses. The same ones he makes every single time we are together.
Sorry. I have to go. Stay safe.
Like a broken record, he never deviates from his script, and he never stays long enough for me to tell him that he doesn’t need to apologize. That he doesn’t owe me anything. Not after he keeps breaking my heart simply by existing.
While I wait for the excuse, for the apology that ruins all of the erotic bliss that I’m still reliving in the moment, I listen for the sound of him moving around to get dressed.
My ears are met with nothing but silence.
Finally, I open my eyes, expecting to be blinking into the darkness, but he left the bathroom light on. Logan stands there, right next to my bed, staring down at me with a dark expression on his face.
He’s also completely naked, which should take away from the intimidating effect he usually has, but it doesn’t.
“What?” I don’t mean to snap the question, but he’s unnerving. Silent and still, his head tilts at a small angle, and the look on his face… It’s enough to have me biting my lip with how nervous he makes me.
Like he’s been snapped out of a trance, Logan clears his throat and straightens up to his impressive height.
“You’re not really moving, are you?”
His question catches me off guard, and instinctively, I grab the blankets and lift them up practically to my chin.
“Y-yeah.” I stammer over the word. “That’s been my plan the last few months.”
He leans down, and I’m met with the tantalizing view of him getting dressed.
With a nod, he walks out.
And I’m left with nothing but the memory of his touch and the tears that I don’t bother trying to hold back anymore.
Wow, this sounds like a great story.
WOW!!! So emotionally and physically charged. I arc’d for Never Give Up. That was the first book of yours I’ve read. I can’t wait so see what happens with Logan and Poppy.
You’ll have to let me know what you thought of their whole story!!!