Page 109 of Viking

I don’t even hesitate. “Never.”

“Then I’m not going anywhere.” He shifts, pulling me so I’m straddling his lap like I belong there. The heat of him seeps into me. I can feel his heartbeat steady and strong beneath my palm.

I let my fingers trail over his collarbone, smoothing the fabric of his shirt before tugging it down just enough to press my lips to the pulse at his throat.

Logan exhales sharply, his grip on my hips tightening. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.” He warns, voice gravelly. “But you’re making it really difficult.”

I smirk against his skin. “Maybe I don’t want you to be a gentleman.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, low and rough, and before I can react, I’m pressed back against the couch—his weight settling over me in a way that steals the breath from my lungs and sets my pulse racing. My gaze drags down the length of him, slow and greedy, taking in every hard line and angle of the man who’s haunted my waking thoughts and claimed my dreams for far too long. Every inch of him is familiar and yet entirely overwhelming. The heat in his eyes tells me exactly what he wants, but it’s the flicker of hesitation—the way his gray-blue gaze scans my face, like he’s searching for permission, for something unspoken—that undoes me.

“I meant it then,” he grits out, his nose brushing against mine. “And I really mean it now. Please, Lila, you have to stop torturing me.”

I curl my fingers into the front of his shirt, and for a long, charged moment, we just exist like this—wrapped up in each other, caught in the push and pull that has always been us.

For all our lust-filled banter, I know that’s all it is. Because as much as I want him, I know I’m not ready to fall back into his bed. Sex has never been something I’ve taken lightly, contrary to how we met, and while I do trust him, and while I do enjoy our flirting—the teasing touches and lingering looks—I need more than just want. I need the certainty that when I give myself to him again, it’s not just physical. That it’s unshakable love. Because Logan isn’t someone you love halfway. And when I finally let myself fall, I want to know we’re both ready to catch each other.

Then Logan grins and tugs the throw blanket over both of us like he has nowhere else to be. “Guess I’m staying the night,” he says, voice dripping with smug satisfaction, like he already knows he won the game neither of us were really playing.

Langley AFB

October 30, 2024

11:32 a.m.

Logan

The briefing room is quiet. Townsend’s already disappeared, leaving Dalton, Wells, and me sprawled out at the conference table talking shit like it’s our job. Which let’s be honest—it kind of is. Morale-boosting through unfiltered trash talk. Works better than any formal debrief. The three of us are waiting for our maintenance crews to finish a final systems check on the jets before we hit the simulators.

Wells leans back in his chair, feet kicked up on the table, looking every bit as smug as his call sign, “Saint,” suggests he’s earned. Dalton sits across from me, flipping through a dog-eared book. I’m barely paying attention to either of them. My mind is somewhere else daydreaming of big green eyes and soft, full lips.

“Hey,” Wells says suddenly, snapping his fingers to get my attention. “You’ve been sitting there smiling like an idiot for long enough, Viking. What’s going on? You win the lottery or something?”

I smirk and shake my head, but Dalton raises an eyebrow, clearly interested now.

“Nah,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “It’s Lila.”

Dalton perks up, and Wells drops his boots to the floor, leaning forward like I’ve just announced I’m about to spill state secrets.

“You finally stop being an ass?” Dalton quips, his voice neutral, but the smirk tugging at his mouth makes it clear he’s enjoying himself.

“I knew it,” Wells mutters, shaking his head like he’s just solved a puzzle. “The look she gave me when she asked if I knew you. That was not the face of a woman indifferent to the Logan James.” He tilts his head, his expression turning speculative. “What’s the story with her? She’s beautiful.”

There’s a glint of curiosity in his eyes, and I know Wells well enough already to see he’s piecing together more than I’m saying.

“It’s complicated,” I try, but I know that excuse won’t fly.

“Bullshit,” Dalton interrupts, tossing his manual onto the table. “He was being a fucking idiot. End of story.”

Wells looks between us. “Oh, this just keeps getting better.”

“Yeah, something like that,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck.

Dalton scoffs. “Something like that? You spent months self-destructing, avoided her at all costs, and generally made life hell for yourself and everyone around you.” He fakes a smile. “I’d say that about sums it up, wouldn’t you agree?”

I shoot him a glare, but Wells just grins. “Damn, Viking. And here I thought you had it all together.”

I exhale, shaking my head. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”