by Kim Karr
My worries were on many things, that included, but I tried to downplay it for his sake. Although I was confident I could take care of myself, I was also certain Logan would keep me safe. Besides, the state-of-the-art security systems Miles had installed in my house and boutique made them both seem impenetrable.
With those grounding thoughts in my mind, I tiptoed out of the room. The house was quiet, with pearly dawn light peeking through the blinds as I made my way down the stairs.
The row house, which had been in foreclosure when I first laid eyes on it and then managed to purchase with Michael’s help and by mortgaging it to the hilt, backed up to a small park, and it was a place I had to have. To me it was the first place I could call home.
In the early hours of the morning everything around me was peaceful and quiet. The soft gurgle of the coffeemaker was the only sound to break the silence. As I waited patiently for the pot to brew, I stared out the kitchen window into the small park behind me. My eyes drifted to anything that might take my mind off what today was. The dread was beginning to loom and I wanted to lose myself in something else, even if only for a little while.
The dew that coated the grass.
The trees that were starting to sprout leaves.
The purple horizon with a small yellow glow popping over it.
Strong arms gripped the lip of the sink on both sides of me, caging me in. The feel of his stubbled cheek against the sensitive skin of my neck sent tiny fissures of excitement through my veins. “Good morning. You’re up early,” he said in that sleepy, sexy voice that made my stomach flip in excitement every time I heard it.
With the air around me suddenly feeling thicker, I leaned back against his strong bare chest and twisted my head so I could kiss him. “Good morning. I tried not to wake you up.”
His lips brushed mine and electricity flared through me. “You shouldn’t be up either. Come back to bed.”
Not a question, a command, laced with a whole lot of promise.
I found myself licking my lips. “I don’t have a lot of time. I need to be at the police station at nine and then to Michael’s by ten so we can ride to the service together.”
His hands whisked under the hem of my shirt and went right between my thighs. “We don’t need a lot of time.”
Oh, God.
His hands, his fingers, they were magic. The shudder of my breath officially became louder than the residual dripping of the coffeemaker. “What did you have in mind?” I teased. This distraction was more than welcoming before the start of what I knew would be a dreadful day.
Hot breath blew in my ear. “I want to make you feel good,” he paused as he pressed his palm against my sex, “right here.”
My eyelids fluttered for the second time this morning, but this time for an entirely different reason. He knew how to rev me up. That was for sure.
When we first met, I had two rules when it came to sex—no talking and no repeats. One failed relationship had left me burned and I wasn’t interested in another. But with Logan, everything changed and those rules went right out the window. It might take me a while to truly push through my childhood issues, but Logan was being patient. The memories of hearing my father tell my mother he had to be inside her almost every night for years was strong within me. However, the memory of how much she disliked the act was stronger. And the truth was, what Logan and I were doing was mutually pleasurable. We both gave as much as we took.
Knowing this, I was trying to compromise and found myself more than okay with the way Logan chose to let his emotions out. I sometimes found it embarrassing. I called it dirty talk. He preferred the term communicating. The simple fact was that even though I’d come to embrace this part of who he was, Logan knew my limits, and after learning about my aversion he had been careful never to say those words my father said to my mother. His efforts to tread lightly warmed my heart. I found them endearing and charming and sexy as hell all at the same time.
Fingers fondled me in the most delicious way, and then he slid one a little lower. “And right here.”
The stroke of his flesh against mine, and the rumble in his voice, sent my body into overdrive. “Go on,” I whispered breathlessly, pressing myself back against his hot, thick erection.
His breath caught and he had to suck in air before he said, “I don’t think I need to explain any further—you’re already dripping wet.” On his last word, he plunged that single probing finger deep inside me.
The tension in my lower belly coiled so tightly, I thought if he moved a little more or added one more finger, I just might come right here.
But he didn’t. Instead, he kept teasing me.
Unable to withstand the torture another moment, I turned around. For a moment, the world stopped spinning and it was just he and I, and what we felt for each other.
With a smile that I couldn’t help, I ran my hands up his bare, smooth chest. He was standing there in black boxers, body ripped with strength, lids heavy with desire, eyelashes thick, those hazel pools bright and those lush lips parted. My hands reached his shoulders and then my nails dragged down his back. I thrilled at the feel of his rock-hard muscles under my fingertips. I never wanted to stop touching him.
Logan pressed against me. Backing me up against the sink, his leg eased between mine. My heel hooked around his leg, drawing him even nearer. His mouth was greedy on my neck, sucking, licking, kissing. My fingers were in his hair, caressing, tugging, pulling. We were all mouths and hands and tangled limbs.
“Take me back to bed, unless we’re staying down here,” I demanded impatiently.
His smile was wicked and wild, and without hesitation he took my hand and led me back up the stairs.
My guess was fifty-fifty as to whether he’d fuck me on the counter or on my mattress. There were times he was soft and gentle and we made love. And there were times he was wild and raw and we fucked like animals. Most of the time, I allowed his mood to determine the pace we took and at other times, I directed it.
Today, I was leaving it up to him.
We passed the threshold into my room and he kicked the door shut behind us. As soon as I heard the click of the latch his mouth was on mine. Our bodies melded in the perfect way that only we fit together. Not holding back, he started backing me up. Our kisses were hungry, deep. Delicious.
Slow steps were taken in sync until my knees hit the bed, and then somehow the two of us made it onto the mattress without either of us crashing down.
At first he was hovering over me but within moments we were rolling, and then I was on top of him and my knees were straddling his hips, squeezing them, letting him know just how much I wanted him. Moving quickly, he unbuttoned my shirt—his shirt—and discarded it. And then his hands were on my breasts, pinching my nipples, rolling them between his thumbs and fingers in a way that made them instantly hard.
Leaning down, I let my tangle of messy hair tickle his bare chest as I kissed my way up to the curve of his jaw. Stopping along the way to nip and bite where I saw fit.
With a hiss, he growled, “Watch it. Two can play at that game.”
I sat up straighter and grinned at him. The upward curve of my lips was an undeniable, come-and-get-me smile.
At thirty, I’d only recently come to learn just how affected my body could be by small things, like how a little bit of pain could make the pleasure all the better. Small things, nothing too extreme. If I was sitting on the lip of my old-fashioned tub with his face between my legs, the tighter I gripped the rim, the more the lip rubbed against my skin, the more intense my orgasm. Or if Logan held my hands over my head while he fucked me, the inability to move and the tight grip around my wrists sent me spiraling. And then there was the way he could bring me to the edge and deny my tipping over it until I thought I might go crazy. I wasn’t looking to use whips and chains or anything like that, but a small bite here or there certainly was fun.
His hiss morphed into a groan when I struck first. Inching back, my hands drifted to the bla
ck fabric that separated us and I pressed down on it. With the feel of his erection beneath my fingertips, I stopped playing around and rocked forward.
Logan’s eyes shined with desire. He, too, had obviously decided to abandon the games, because he shot up and pulled me on his lap.
“You have too much on,” I whispered and rose on my knees.
Doing the same, he tugged down his boxers with quick efficiency, kicking them off and onto the ground in no time. Finally, both of us were naked and ready for this.
Heartbeats apart, we were both on our knees gazing at each other. When my eyes cast down onto his perfectly erect cock, I licked my lips.
He noticed my response and then in one of the most erotic moves I’d ever seen, he took his cock in his hand and held it for a beat of two.
My heavy breathing gave way to how much it turned me on.
His eyes watched me as he gave himself a little stroke. “You like that?”
I nodded, my breathing coming way too fast—I was practically panting.
Logan dipped his chin to look down, and then he stroked himself again, this time pushing his hands forward and thrusting his cock into his fist.
In a rush, I moaned his name. “Logan.”
With a desperation only I understood, he quickened his pace.
Fascinated, I watched, taking notice of the way his muscles corded in his arms, the smooth skin of his cock and the way his hand easily glided over it, the pre-cum that glistened on his tip.
But my show was not for long because before I knew it, he’d stopped stroking himself and started stroking me with that cock, that delicious cock that was still in his hand. My clit pulsed and my muscles clenched in response. Full of need, my eyes found his.
“Come closer,” he said, and I did.
Lowering himself so his knees were now beneath him, he grabbed my hair as soon as I leaned in, pulled me onto his lap, and then captured my mouth with his. Giving me hard, wet, breathtaking kisses that made it impossible to breathe.
When I pulled back, my hands moved to his face. His hair had fallen forward and he looked rakish—impossibly sexy—as I pushed it from his eyes.
Logan didn’t waste any time as he gripped my hips.
My desire for him was so fierce I was wet long ago. There wasn’t any need for any further foreplay. Rising slightly on my knees, I lowered myself down onto his lap. Onto his cock. Slowly. Inch by inch. A little at a time. Exquisite pleasure started to surge all the way from my core. I didn’t stop until he was fully inside me. For a moment, I didn’t move, wasn’t sure I could without coming.
Logan took over for me, surging his body upward and taking control of mine with his hands on my hips. I drew in a shuddering breath and wrapped by arms around his neck. He pumped slowly at first and I found myself leaning in to kiss his mouth. I kissed him hard, and he returned my kiss with the same strength. We were all lips, teeth, and tongue. Wild. Frantic. And soon the energy transferred to our bodies. He started to fuck into me, faster, faster still. Abandoning the kissing, I pushed myself upright and began to ride him, matching his pace.
Cries of pleasure sputtered from his throat, rough, gravel-like, filled with a rumble. “Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. That’s so good. That’s it. Oh, fuck, I’m going to come.”
Words that sent me right over the edge.
He pumped faster and faster and I followed in that rhythm that existed only between us. Unable to hold on any longer, I arched my back and closed my eyes. Pleasure filled the space in my head where my mind no longer was. In the space that should have held thoughts was nothing but flickering lights, small bright stars in a far distance, and colors of the rainbow. I rode out my orgasm in that place, not allowing coherent thoughts to reenter my mind until I had exhausted every ounce of pleasure that was coursing through my body from head to toe.
He murmured my name. My heart, which was already pounding, skipped a beat. Without opening my eyes yet, I answered with his name. “Logan,” I breathed.
In response, he rolled onto his side and his hands found mine. Lacing our fingers, he pulled me flush to his chest. “Come here.”
At the sound of his voice again, I opened my eyes and looked at him. If it was possible for your heart to be so full of love for someone that you felt it might explode, that’s how I was feeling. We hadn’t expressed our love in words since that dreadful night, but we both knew how the other felt. Those three little words didn’t always have to be spoken for someone to know it. Besides, how many times were those words spoken among people in an empty, meaningless way? “I love you” could be said without really meaning it. But showing it, that meant everything.
Satisfaction filled the air. We were both breathing loudly when Logan propped himself up on his elbow. I turned as well, folding my arm under my pillow.
Gently, he ran his fingers through a stray piece of my hair that had fallen to the side. When he tucked it behind my ear, he sighed. “I want to come with you today to your sister’s funeral.”
Treading cautiously, I grasped his hand tighter and brought it to my lips. “Logan, you know you can’t.” It wasn’t that I didn’t want him there—I did. But those calls frightened me and I didn’t know what they meant but knew they had something to do with Michael and I. For now, Logan and I would have to remain a secret.
Taking his hands from mine, he flopped onto his back and put them behind his head. “I want you to tell him.”
I moved closer, stroking my fingers over his chest. “You know I want to, but the calls are freaking me out. What if they have something to do with Michael? Or what if when I tell Michael that I’m involved with someone, with you, it doesn’t go over very well?”
Logan was quiet at first, and I wasn’t sure what he was thinking.
“Hey,” I whispered.
Instead of answering, he looked over at me with a blank expression on his face.
“Michael not knowing about us doesn’t change anything. You know that, right?”
He scowled. “Yeah, sure I do. It’s just, it’s bad enough we have to be concerned about being seen in public. I hate that you have to tiptoe around him because you’re worried about him finding out.”
“Logan, even if the calls weren’t an issue, it’s too soon to tell him. Too close to everything that has happened. Think about it: what if I did tell him and then he started thinking about the drug bust? He’s not stupid; he could figure things out.”
Logan ran his hand down his face. “Even if he did, what does it matter? It’s not like he’s going to go to the cops.”
I willed my racing heart to slow down as I sat up and pulled the sheet with me. It was time to be honest. “Logan, I haven’t told you everything that happened those first three days we were apart that first week.”
He frowned. “What are you talking about?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “The threat of Clementine being kidnapped wasn’t the only reason I agreed to help Michael.”
Practically his entire body went taut. “What did he do to you?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly enough to keep his anger at bay. “It’s not what he did. It’s what he said earlier that same night he asked me for his help.”
“You mean the night when he asked you to commit a felony,” Logan said through gritted teeth.
“Logan, we’ve discussed—”
He held up a hand. “Just go on.”
I flinched at the coolness in his tone. “Well,” I stuttered before pulling myself together and just spilling it. “He alluded to the possibility that he could cut me out of Clementine’s life, forbid me from seeing her. And Logan, I can’t allow that to happen. You have to understand, I can’t do anything that might jeopardize my role in her life.”
Logan sat up abruptly. “What the hell are you talking about? He knows how much you love her. Why would he do something like that?”
Emotional warfare, I thought but didn’t say out loud. That would really send him reeling. My fingers curled into my palms as I spoke. �
�Before he told me anything about his plan, he let me know he was going to report Lizzy missing and then file for divorce. Then he said he thought it would be a good idea with everything going on if he named Erin as Clementine’s guardian.”
“His sister, the one with four kids? Not you? I don’t—” He stopped, narrowed his eyes, and clenched his fists. “Did he blackmail you?”
I shook my head. “No, not exactly. He was much more subtle about it. He started with the guardianship and then moved on to what he really wanted. He tried to convince me that Clementine’s safety was in jeopardy and that was why I needed to help him. But I saw through his words. The reason he told me about possibly naming his sister as Clementine’s guardian was so that if the kidnapping threat wasn’t enough to make me say yes, the hope of ensuring my place in Clementine’s life would be. And it worked, because I did help him. I had to. For her.”
Logan was up and out of bed faster than I could blink. Punching his legs into a pair of track pants that were folded on top of my dresser, he yanked them up and then started pacing the room. “You understand for any guardianship to be invoked something would have to happen to Michael, so all of his talk is a bunch of presumptive bullshit.”
The lawyer in him was taking over.
“I do understand that, but it was more than just the dangling of awarding me possible guardianship. There was an undertone to his words.”
Logan narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
Tangling my fingers together, I admitted what I hadn’t even really admitted to myself. “I just got the feeling that he was giving me a choice to make and if I made the wrong one, he was going to cut me out of Clementine’s life altogether.”
Logan slammed his fist against the wall. “Motherfucking piece of shit. That’s it. I’m done with this charade.”
“Logan, calm down. Please don’t do anything stupid. Don’t jeopardize what I have with my niece,” I begged.
The pacing started back up. “And the fundraiser, did you go to that under the duress of a threat as well?”