Page 26 of Exposing Colorado

“Logan?”

Blinking, I realize Salem's watching me closely, propped up on her elbow. I force a shaky smile. “I’m fine.”

She reaches for my hand. “Hey. Talk to me.”

But I can’t because if I open my mouth, I’m afraid I’ll ruin everything. God, I've wanted her for so long, and now I finally have her. Here, beside me, naked. Still flushed from the orgasm I just gave her. Well, sort of. The Thing gave her the orgasm, but still—I played a part in it.

So I just squeeze her hand and whisper, “Can I stay here with you for a bit?”

She studies me cautiously for a second but lies back down and curls into my side. We lie there in silence, her breath soft and even against my chest as her fingers trace slow circles on my stomach.

I tighten my arm around her, bury my face in her hair, and breathe in her scent like she’s the cure to something that’s been rotting inside me since I was a kid. Maybe she can be. Maybe what we did is different… because I did it with her?

The guilty thoughts start slowly, just a murmur in the back of my mind.

You liked that too much. You let her take control. You gave in. You’re disgusting.

My fingers twitch. I shift as if I can somehow wriggle out of the shame, like it’s dust on the surface of my skin instead of embedded in every fiber of my being.

Salem hums and kisses my shoulder, but the warmth of her body only makes it worse. My throat burns.

What kind of man lets a girl take the lead? What kind of man spreads his legs to get assfucked and moans for it?

“Logan,” she mumbles, sleepy. “You’re stiff as a board.”

I force a breath through my nose. “Just… cold.”

Liar liar.

I can never tell her the truth—that I feel dirty. That part of me thinks I’ve done something wrong even though every rational thought in my head is screaming: “You’re okay, you’re safe, you wanted this.”

Nothing makes any fucking sense.

She lifts her head to press her lips to my chest, and I flinch before I can stop it. Her body goes absolutely still. Shit.

“Um, what the hell is happening right now?” she asks, clearly aggravated.

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I think… something’s wrong with me. We can't do that again.”

Salem reels back like I just slapped her. “Excuse me?”

I sit up quickly, wincing at the ache in my ass. “We can’t do that again. I… I thought I could handle it, but I can’t.”

“Seriously? Why didn’t you use your safeword, Logan?”

“What?

“Colorado,” she bites out. “That’s what you picked. That’s what we agreed on. So why the fuck didn’t you use it if you didn't like it?”

“I didn’t think I needed to!” I shout, panic rising in my throat. “I didn’t know something was wrong until afterward. I thought it was okay, but now I feel⁠—”

I cut myself off, chest heaving, not even knowing what word to use. Shame? Filth? Disgust?

Salem scrambles out of bed before yanking on a discarded T-shirt. “Jesus, Logan. I checked in. You said yes.”

“I thought I meant it!”

“Well, I don't read minds!” she snaps, eyes swimming with hurt. “You told me it felt good, begged me not to stop, and now you're acting like I did something wrong!”