by Lilly Atlas
“Thank you,” he said. The words were gruff and spoken into the top of her head. Chloe tried to look up, but he held her too tight. Perhaps he just wasn’t ready to bare more of himself tonight. Which was fine. He’d already given her more than anyone else, even his brothers.
“For what?” she asked.
“For giving me you.”
She smiled against his damp pec. With her eyes as heavy as they were, it didn’t take long before she was nodding off. The sound of Logan’s voice jerked her back to reality. “My life isn’t built for a relationship.” Pain lanced her heart, all the more agonizing for the fact she’d been soaring only seconds ago. Of course, he believed that. He still didn’t fully believe he wasn’t a monster. But they’d get there. As for their relationship?
She wasn’t built for one either. At least not anymore. She still had issues out the wazoo.
“Shh.” She put her hand over his mouth. “I don’t want to have this conversation. Not now. Maybe not ever. Can we just enjoy each other until it’s done?”
He was silent for a moment, then his soft lips caressed her palm. She pulled her hand back to allow him to speak. “Yeah. We can do that.” He kissed the top of her head. “You gonna be able to handle me or one of my brothers being your shadow until this shit with Esposito’s been resolved?”
“Pretty sure I’ll handle it better than Izzy.”
He grunted and tightened his arms. Right there, wrapped up in him, she felt invincible. There wasn’t a thing in the world that could touch her as long as Logan was around. They were a mess of sweaty post-sex stickiness, but neither moved. Logan’s shower wasn’t going anywhere and neither was he, at least not for the moment. She wasn’t going to risk missing this intimate moment to clean up. Later, they could shower together and hopefully she could talk him into another round.
He rubbed up and down her back in long, soothing strokes. Chloe’s eyelids drooped once again as a pleasant lethargy flowed through her. Finally, for the first time in months, she was going to sleep feeling completely safe and protected.
Still inside her, Logan started to thicken again. She must have made a noise of disbelief because he chuckled. “Can’t help it, baby. You’re too damn hot. But sleep for a bit. I promise he’ll come around again five seconds after you wake up.”
Safe. Protected. Happy.
She fell asleep surrounded by his warmth and crossing her fingers this would last longer than the niggling in her gut warned.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
THE FOLLOWING TWO weeks sailed by. In the daytime, when Logan was required to visit various job sites, Chloe completed her own work from his breathtaking house. They’d grabbed her laptop and a few paper files from her place the day after she arrived at his house.
Along with the French doors leading to the balcony, his master bedroom boasted a large arched bay window overlooking the mountains. After she’d spent twenty minutes gushing about the view, Logan had dragged a buttery soft leather recliner from an upstairs loft area over to the window. She spent hours at her computer managing her client’s accounts and occasionally getting lost in the scenery.
All in all, she hadn’t left the house much. Whenever Logan worked, another biker was parked outside, keeping an eye on things. Anything she needed, one of the prospects was tasked with fetching for her. And when Logan returned home each evening, she’d had no desire to leave him.
Home.
She ought to be careful throwing that word around so comfortably.
Bottom line, she’d spent a blissful fourteen days getting to know Logan on all levels. And she’d learned quite a bit about him. The man was a coffee fiend. Drank at least a pot of the stuff before noon. He was also neat. Crazy neat. Wouldn’t-leave-a-glass-in-the-sink neat. And he slept buck naked every night after making her lose her mind with pleasure. She still hadn’t ventured into any territory where he laid directly on top of her or caged her in, in any way, but they’d gotten creative with a myriad of other highly enjoyable positions.
Chloe also had a few chances to hang with the ol’ ladies of the MC. Once at the clubhouse, and twice at Toni and Zach’s place. She was officially as smitten with them as she was with Logan, though in vastly different ways. Not one of the women pressed her to talk about her kidnapping, yet there was a kinship and understanding between them. Each woman was a pillar of strength in her own way despite having some triggers due to past distressing experiences. Izzy’s triggers tended more toward a rage-filled reaction as opposed to fear or panic, but none had made it to the stages they were without some form of traumatic ordeal.
Despite the fun two weeks, reality still existed, mostly in the form of Chloe being sick of the few outfits she’d brought to Logan’s and needing some additional files on a new client. That meant a trip to her neglected little house.
Rocket swung home after work on Friday evening and picked her up, which meant she got to ride the thirty-minute trip to her house on the back of his bike. An activity she’d totally fallen in love with. Not much surpassed the feeling of freedom and euphoria she experienced wrapped around Logan as he cruised the mountain roads.
“Man, that gets better every time,” Chloe said as she tugged off the helmet. Smoothing a hand down her long braid, she tamed the flyaways that sprung out no matter how tight she worked the strands. As much as Logan proclaimed to love her hair down, she refused to wear it that way on the bike. She’d made that mistake only once. It’d taken her hours to work the tangles out of her thick strands. Hours she’d much rather spend naked in bed with Logan. Once she’d presented that argument, he no longer gave her grief about riding with a braid. If only all their disagreements were that easy to win.
“You’re a natural,” he said with a swat on her ass.
She giggled and swatted him right back.
“Hey!” he said as he lunged for her.
With another laugh she tried to jump out of the way, but was no match for his speed. In the blink of an eye he had her over his shoulder, his palm cracking against her ass once again. “Only one of us is allowed to do any spanking. You hear me?”
“Hmm,” Chloe said. Despite the blood rushing to her head, she couldn’t really complain about the position he had her in. Not when she had an up close and personal view of his very fine ass. “I hear you. I’m not allowed to spank.” Her braid swung back and forth like a pendulum, only inches from the ground. A smirk curled her lips. “Guess I’ll just be doing this instead.” Before he had a chance to react, she pinched what she could grab of his ass. It wasn’t much; the damn man had a damn hard ass, but she managed to elicit a grunt and a jolt from him.
He dropped her back to her feet and growled as he caught her in a loose head lock. “Whatcha gonna do now, smartass?”
The playful side of Logan came out so rarely, she treasured every second of it. As it was, she’d never seen him act this way with anyone other than her. Warmth filled her chest. He might not be one to give her flowery words every day, telling her how he felt about her, but his actions showed the depth of caring he felt toward her and never failed to make her feel like the most special woman on the planet. At least in his eyes.
“This work?” she asked with an impish grin and she reached back and pressed the heel of her hand against his balls.
“Shit,” he cried out, releasing her at once. “You win.” His genuine and also rare smile meant the freaking world.
“Come on.” She grabbed his hand and towed him toward the door. “This place looks itty bitty compared to your castle,” she said with a huff. She’d taken to calling Logan’s house a castle, which never failed to make him roll his eyes and curse Shell’s name.
Just as she slid the key into the deadbolt lock, her front door jerked open and Scott barreled out. His face was a facade of murderous fury. Before she had time to process his presence, she was yanked behind her brother and away from Logan.
“Who the fuck are you?” Scott yelled in a venomous tone she’d never known was possible from him.
>
“Scott…” She peered around him only to shriek, “What the hell are you doing? Get that gun out of his face.” Held in Scott’s hand as though it were nothing but an extension of his arm, was a deadly black pistol. “Scott, please!” she tried again as a cold sweat broke out all over her body.
“Is this him?” Scotty snarled, thrusting the gun in Logan’s direction. “For Christ’s sake, tell me this is not him, Chloe.”
Logan lifted his hands. Chloe sensed rather than saw a change in him. He wasn’t scared, wasn’t surrendering by any means. Scott may be a Green Beret, but Logan had dangerous skills she did not want to see in action. At least not in this case.
Chloe tried to take a step to the right only to be locked in place by Scott’s free hand. “L-Logan,” she called out from behind her brother’s broad back, words quivering. “T-this is m-my brother, Scott.” Please don’t hurt him was the unspoken request.
“Babe,” Logan, said, eerily calm for having the business end of a powerful weapon inches from his face. “You need to tell him to stand down.” Or I will hurt him. His unspoken message was as clear as hers.
“Don’t you fucking give her orders,” Scott said, still in attack mode. “Babe?” he asked in a way that sounded like Logan had insulted her instead of using an endearment. “Jesus Christ, you tell me this motherfucker is him and I swear to God I’ll gun him down on your porch.”
“Scott,” she said, gently placing her hands on her brother’s back. He didn’t so much as twitch. Tension coiled his muscles so tight they felt as though they could snap beneath her palms. “Please put the g-gun down. You’re s-scaring me. L-let’s go inside and t-talk. One of my neighbors is going to see you and call the police.”
“Maybe they need to be called. Tell me who this fucking biker is, Clo and do it now.”
“His name is Logan. And he’s—”
“Is. It. Him.”
Again, she tried to step around the wall of her brother, but Scott had a fistful of her sweatshirt.
“Do not move, Chloe.” Logan said.
“Shut the fuck up,” Scott sneered.
This situation was going downhill fast. “Okay, okay, I’m not moving.” Chloe said to Scott’s back. “Is he who, Scott?”
“Is he the motherfucking boyfriend who raped you and beat you bloody?” he snarled like a panther seconds from pouncing.
Well, fuck.
“The hell is he talking about?” Logan asked.
“I told you to shut the fuck up.” Scott stepped forward, dragging her with him. God, he was so close to Logan now, the gun had to be pressed right between his eyes. Chloe knew deep in her gut Logan could get away if he wanted. And he was only holding back for her sake.
“You’ve got thirty seconds to get that water gun out of my face,” Logan said in a deceptively tranquil voice. Shit. He wasn’t going to hold back for long.
Damnit, Logan.
Scott seethed. He’d do it. He’d shoot Logan right there if he really believed he was protecting his baby sister.
Diffusing this ticking bomb fell to her, which meant giving up information that Logan’s club didn’t want circulated. But what alternative did she have? Logan’s dead body on her stoop? Scott in jail for the rest of his life?
She shuddered.
“Scott,” she said as though talking to a frightened animal. “I lied to you about what happened to me. I wasn’t assaulted by a boyfriend.”
“Ahh, fuck,” Logan said as clarity must have set in. She’d never informed him of the tale she’d woven for her family and the authorities. They didn’t speak of that night.
“Don’t defend this biker piece of shit, sis,” Scott said, but he’d lost some of his vehemence.
“I’m not defending anyone, trust me. You know me, Scott. I’d never go anywhere near him if he’d done that to me. I swear on Grandma’s grave I’m telling you the truth.”
His shoulder relaxed a hint. Had he lowered the weapon? She couldn’t see a damn thing. Why did he have to be so freakin’ big?
“Can we please go inside now? I promise Logan is no threat to me. And we will explain everything to you, but we need to get off the porch before someone sees you and calls the cops.” She poked her head around him and this time he let her. “Please?”
“Fine,” Scott said. The gun lowered and Chloe blew out a long breath.
Logan kept his hands at shoulder level.
“But I’m keeping this out until I’m convinced,” he said, showing her the gun.
With a painful swallow, Chloe met Logan’s gaze. His blue eyes had darkened to the shade of the sky seconds before a hurricane. A barely perceptible dip of his chin was all she got. It was enough for her. He had her full trust to run this show and keep all three of them safe. “That’s fine.”
The hand at her waist finally released her clothing. Chloe immediately stepped toward Logan. “I don’t think so,” Scott ground out, catching her by the back of her sweatshirt. “You’re staying away from him until I’m satisfied with this situation.”
Jerking out of his hold, Chloe scowled at her unreasonable brother. Enough was enough. “Will you stop grabbing my clothes?” With a frustrated sigh, she smoothed her shirt then shoved her brother toward the open door. “Get inside.”
Walking backward, he stepped over the threshold into her home without taking his suspicious gaze off Logan. Though he was at least two feet behind her, Logan’s presence at her back took away the hysteria she’d have felt were he not there. Of course, if he weren’t there, she wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.
Details.
“Sit,” Scott barked.
Logan strode to her couch all confident and full of swagger. Like this entire get together had been his idea in the first place. Rolling her eyes, Chloe moved to sit next to him.
“Don’t fucking think so,” Scott said with a slightly sinister laugh.
“Scott, this is getting ridiculous.”
“Sit,” he said to her, pointing to the opposite end of her couch with his gun.
She narrowed her eyes. “You need to put that thing away or I’m going to tell mom you pulled a gun on my boyfriend,” she muttered as she stomped to the couch. As a kid, she’d been a wicked tattletale, losing her brothers countless privileges as revenge for their antics.
Logan snickered but Scott didn’t so much as blink. “Talk,” he said.
After clearing his throat, Logan opened his mouth.
“Not you,” Scot spat out. “Her.”
With a glare for her brother, Chloe folded her arms across her chest. Prepared to blast him for being an idiot, she caught Logan’s gaze. As small as the nod he’d given her outside, he shook his head.
Chloe’s heart plummeted. Looking at this from Scott’s perspective put an entirely different spin on the scenario. Here he was, coming to surprise her when he found her with an outlaw biker after she’d been raped and beaten by who he thought was a vicious boyfriend. No wonder he went all alpha on her.
She opened her mouth, but suddenly the words weren’t there. Reality of what she’d experienced was far worse than the story she’d told her family. Shame washed over her. No one really knew exactly what had happened in that motel room. Not even Logan. Now, not only did she have to bear her humiliation for her brother, she had to show it to her lover as well.
“It’s okay, baby,” Logan said in a soft voice as though privy to her internal struggle.
She blinked at him as tears flooded her eyes.
“Fuck it,” Logan said. “Shoot me if you gotta, man.” He scooted down the couch and pulled her onto his lap. At once, she curled into him, soaking up the warmth and safety only he could provide. Glancing at Scott, she expected to see him with his finger on the trigger again. Instead, he had a profound look of sadness on his face. All their lives, he’d been her favorite big brother. Her best friend, her protector. Couldn’t be easy to see himself replaced. And by a man he didn’t trust.
“All right,” he said, laying h
is weapon on her end table. “You win.” He took a seat on the side of the couch Logan had vacated. “Tell me.”
Logan looked to her and she gave as much of a sad smile as she could muster. “Your sister had stopped at a Subway to grab some dinner one night,” he began. He must have sensed how difficult it would be for her to rehash it all on her own. So he took the burden from her. Despite how much he hated talking to people he didn’t know. Just one of the many reasons she loved—
Holy shit.
I love him.
Chloe swallowed. There was no denying it. She’d fallen in love with the man. How could she not?
“It was late. The parking lot was dark as fuck. She was nabbed right by her car. Tossed in her trunk. Kidnapped.”
“Christ.” Scott hung his head. “I should have given you Mace. I should have given you a fucking gun.”
“It wouldn’t have helped,” she said, her heart heavy. “They clocked me from behind. It happened too fast for me to react. I was careless, not paying attention to my surroundings.”
“Who was it that took you?” her brother asked, running his fingertip along the barrel of his gun where it rested on her end table. She had the distinct impression he was imagining using it on whoever had hurt her.
“It was a gang,” Logan answered. “Led by a guy by the name of Lefty. Real motherfucker.”
“Why?”
“Trafficking.”
“Fuck.” Scott’s curse was whispered.
“Lefty is an enemy of my club. We got wind of what happened and my prez had a meeting with him. Demanded he release her or we’d set the full power of the club on ending him. Gave him orders to leave her in a motel room unharmed.” His voice grew thick, pained sounding. “I’m the one who found her.”
“Not unharmed,” Scott said.
“No.”
The only thing keeping Chloe from losing her shit was the steady thrum of Logan’s heartbeat beneath her cheek as she listened to him recount the events leading up to her rescue. As much as she appreciated him taking on this task, it was time for her to speak up. Horrifying as it was, she needed to own what had happened to her. How could she move on with Logan or any man—though the thought of trying to be with another man made her stomach hurt—if she didn’t face what had happened head on?