Chapter 3 CONFUSED

Logan Garrison's POV

Tears were usually a turn-off for me, yet somehow hers cut deeper. I'd meant to tease her, but she couldn't handle my heat. Thinking back on it, I smiled.

"That was cute," I muttered, my mouth suddenly watering again at the taste of her breasts. Her body. My fingers still remembered her warmth-the way her insides hugged them. Logan Garrison, I warned myself, grounding my thoughts before I completely lost it. I was a flirt. I discarded women at my convenience. I had no business thinking about her.

But my groin tightened anyway.

Her reaction replayed in my head-her cute face, her body, the way the bubbles slid over her toned, fair breasts. Hell... those hard pink nipples, bold and defiant, like I could never suck them enough.

My hand wrapped around my cock in the pool, and her moan flooded my mind as I stroked slowly. I was Logan Garrison. I could call anyone to come ease me off-but her? I couldn't shake her. I didn't just want release. I wanted to sink into her. To penetrate her.

"Belinda..." The groan tore from my throat as I wanked harder. "Open that pussy... yeah... fuck... open..." I imagined her right there with me, my grip tightening as I rubbed my shaft vigorously, broken groans spilling out. "Belinda... m-ahh... I want your pussy... fuck... I want to fuck you..."

I braced a hand on the edge of the pool, my mind drowning in her-her moans, that damn tight pussy. "Yeah... fuck... gimme that pussy..." My voice faltered as pleasure crested. "Suck in my cum... your fucking pussy... ahh... I love it... fuck... come closer..."

The release hit hard.

"I'm cumming... fuck... I'm cumming in you..." My body shuddered as my semen spilled into the pool. "Oh fuck, Belinda," I breathed.

That was the first time I'd ever wanked-and she was the reason. I wanted that damn girl.

I stayed there for a while, staring into nothing, trying to understand how one woman had taken over my thoughts so completely.

Eventually, I climbed out of the pool and grabbed my towel, rubbing it through my hair when my phone lit up. My mother. I answered with my left hand, knowing she wouldn't stop calling if I ignored her.

"Mom," I said, already feeling her energy.

"Lee," she replied sharply. "Your wife is here."

I frowned. "Wife?" I echoed.

"Susanne."

I cursed under my breath.

That witch.BELINDA CHAPMAN's POV

I closed the door behind me and leaned into it, the wood cool against my spine, my chest rising too fast for the quiet room. My body felt overheated, restless, like it had been touched without being touched at all. I slid down until my shoulders hit the wall, pressing my lips together to contain the sound threatening to escape me.

I had cried.

Not the soft, polite kind. The kind that left my eyes burning and my chest aching-because something inside me had shifted.

I crossed the room slowly, each step deliberate, as if my body needed time to remember where I was. When I reached the bed, I didn't sit. I folded into it, sinking into the sheets, letting the mattress cradle me as my breath finally broke loose.

My thighs drifted apart on instinct, heat spreading low and slow, a reminder of how alive I suddenly felt. Not needy-aware. Every nerve seemed tuned to one frequency: him. His voice. His presence. The way he looked at me like he knew things about my body I had never been brave enough to learn myself.

"God..." I whispered, burying my face in the pillow, fingers curling into the fabric. "Please."

I didn't even know what I was asking for.

My heart was racing, not with fear, but with the dangerous thrill of recognition. In that moment, I wanted him. Not desperately-not yet-but with a quiet certainty that terrified me. I had never felt this kind of pull before. Never felt so seen without being exposed.

William had never made me feel like this. With him, there was no anticipation, no heat building beneath the skin. Just routine. Darkness. Silence. He took what he wanted and turned away, leaving my body untouched in ways that mattered.

But Logan-

Logan made me feel things without asking permission.

"Oh God," I breathed, staring at the ceiling. "How can someone feel this... right?"

My phone buzzed beside me, snapping the spell just slightly. Lydia's name lit up the screen, followed by her messages-persistent, dramatic, familiar.

I smiled, slow and secretive, before calling her back.

"Where have you been?" she demanded the second she answered. "I've been calling like a madwoman."

"I was out," I said, voice softer than usual, warmer.

"Out where?" She paused. "Bel... why do you sound like that?"

I pressed the phone to my ear and turned onto my side, knees pulling in slightly, comforted by the familiar intimacy of her voice. "I met someone."

A sharp squeal erupted on the other end. "I knew it. Tell me everything."

"He's... different," I said carefully.

"Different how?"

I hesitated, searching for words that wouldn't give me away. "He makes me feel... awake."

Silence-then, softly, "Does he know you're engaged?"

The question landed heavy.

"No."

"Belinda..."

"I know," I murmured. "It's not like that. I just-"

I stopped. I didn't have the words to explain how a single glance, a single moment, could unravel years of numbness.

"The last time you sounded like this," Lydia said gently, "was when you met William."

I exhaled slowly. "And look how that turned out."

She didn't argue.

"What's his name?" she asked instead.

"Logan."

The name felt dangerous in my mouth-smooth, weighted, intimate.

"Do you know anything else about him?"

"No," I admitted. "But somehow... that doesn't scare me."

After the call, the room felt too quiet again. I lay back, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts drifting where they shouldn't. I imagined his presence-not touching, not claiming-just close. Close enough to feel the heat of him, to feel the air change between us.

Sleep came late.

The next morning, I woke with a soft smile already on my lips, my body relaxed, my mind unruly. I moved through the day like I was carrying a secret beneath my skin.

Then the deliveries came.

One after another. Thoughtful. Intentional. Excessive in the most intoxicating way.

And when I finally saw the ribbon-

"Thanks for your company, sexy."

My breath caught.

This wasn't William

This was him.

LOGAN