by Anne Conley
Katie wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but his tone of voice was perfect and still soothing her, so she didn’t question him.
“You’re amazing.” His voice was a coo, like he was speaking to a pet or a loved one, and it made her insides tingle with something powerful. It made her feel cherished, and she was too tired to think things like that.
Logan carried her to his bed, where he continued his ministrations. Rubbing a soothing salve on her aching muscles, he concentrated on her ankles. There was no way she could resist the relaxation techniques. This was one of the many things she’d missed about the night with Logan—the aftercare. None of the other “Doms” had done anything remotely similar. Most of them had just collapsed in a heap and passed out.
Who was she kidding? None of the other men had been Doms. They’d heard the hype from the books and movies released recently and tried to score some kinky action. That was all. She’d been a game.
But not with Logan. His hands soothed down her back, her thighs, rubbing gently as they went. Katie fell asleep while he was working somewhere around her feet, where he spent the bulk of his time.
It was heavenly.
Chapter Eleven
The next morning, Katie woke up entirely too early and didn’t remember at first why everything hurt so badly. As she stretched, she realized the sheets felt strange, and one by one, the memories fell into place.
Logan had tortured her. With orgasms. Her Logan had given her all the orgasms. Until she couldn’t count them anymore, like he’d promised. Then, he’d put her exhausted body into a hot bath and washed her with all the tenderness of a lover who hadn’t just wrung sensations from her body she’d never thought she’d feel. After that, he’d laid her back in bed and rubbed her sore muscles with a fragrant oil that put her directly to sleep.
Now, in his bed, she reclined against his pillows, smoothing the sheet around her body, feeling totally luxurious and satisfied. Phantom pains ricocheted through her, her girly parts practically quivering at the memory. Okay, having all the orgasms could be torture, but it was exquisite torture.
She thought of the man who’d given them.
Logan was strong. Controlled. Giving. Even with his rugged looks and mountain man façade, he knew the inner workings of a female like no one she’d ever been with.
Not for the first time, she wondered about his past. What had made him this way? Did he have any family? He never talked about any, and all his weekend trips he’d taken were to the sex club in Albuquerque, or so she’d assumed. Although, why she assumed that, she would never know. He just seemed too virile a man to not have all the sex in the world, and he certainly wasn’t getting any here. Or else she wasn’t giving the women of Pamona Gulch enough credit for discretion.
Katie wanted to praise Logan’s skills to the heavens, and she hadn’t even slept with him.
She was still lying back on the pillows, extolling her good fortune, when Logan’s voice broke the silence.
“You planning on staying in bed all morning?” He was leaning on the doorframe with a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. He’d showered and was dressed in the delicious t-shirt and jeans he wore so well.
“No, just thinking about how lucky I’m feeling right now.” She stretched decadently, relishing the heat of his eyes on her movements, feeling like a cat. She put a little extra arch in her spine for his benefit.
“You want to do last night again? That was supposed to be a punishment.” His indulgent smirk turned to a frown, his eyes taking on a determined glint.
“No!” Her lady bits were still swollen and raw, so much so she’d probably have to forgo panties altogether today and maybe just wear a skirt. The idea of fabric of any kind rubbing against her pussy had her clamping her thighs together. “Just waking up.”
Logan drummed his fingers on the doorjamb. “Well, come get some breakfast before you go,” he said before turning to leave her.
Well, if that didn’t tell her everything she needed to know. At least he was nice-ish about it.
“O-kay …” Katie crawled out of bed and got dressed in the clothes she’d brought. She had no idea what he’d done with her panties, so she did without, her flesh rubbing together a constant reminder.
She was still so physically aware of last night, as well as emotionally cognizant. Logan had been so attentive, so caring, so in control. He had brought her the pleasure until it had turned to pain, and that in itself had brought her more pleasure, then again and again until she was incoherent. Nobody had ever been able to do that. He’d controlled her body, wringing orgasms from her like making wine from grapes. He had worked her body into a pulp, and she wouldn’t soon forget it.
But as she made her way to the kitchen, it was obvious Logan was back to business as usual.
Friends.
She hated herself for labeling them with that moniker.
In the kitchen area, Logan was setting plates of eggs and bacon on the table, along with a coffee pot.
“Sit. Eat.”
Katie’s heart constricted, and her body was heavy with disappointment. He didn’t feel the same way. He never had. When would she learn?
“So we’re back to one-word interactions?” She sounded harsher than she meant, but as the words permeated the air around them, she wasn’t sorry. Katie could sound harsh. Logan could hear it. He probably needed to know she was disappointed. That was feedback, right? Doms were into that?
“What do you mean?” The innocence on his face would have been comical if it weren’t so damn sad. He had no idea what his disengagement from last night was doing to her.
“Living like last night didn’t happen, like we don’t have any history? Or like the history we have is some painful, lurid thing instead of what it is?”
His stare turned intense on her, shaking her to her toes. Her mouth was suddenly dry, and she regretted what she’d said. But it was too late. She’d said it. He’d heard it. They would do this feedback thing. She’d started it.
“What history do we have, Katherine?”
“Stop calling me that.” It reminded her of too much, mostly his ability to compartmentalize and her refusal to do so. He had her put into neat little boxes. Sexy Katherine, Pesky Katie. Sub. Friend.
“That’s the name you gave me during our history. I can’t use it? Remind you that I remember every second of the time we’ve spent together?”
Katie put a piece of bacon in her mouth, ignoring him now. She couldn’t respond anyway. The bacon had turned to ashes on her tongue. Clearly, he remembered it all but didn’t want to repeat it. She was that bad.
He remembered but didn’t care. Their time together didn’t mean nearly as much to him as it did to her. Logan was just tossing it all back in her face like a splash of icy water.
Jesus Christ.
She couldn’t even stay here. She’d fallen back into the same trap she’d been stuck in for the last two years. Only now she’d added the new dimension of friends to the mix, and friends didn’t do what they’d done last night.
Katie had made a huge mistake.
Pushing her plate back, she managed to swallow what was in her mouth. “I’m done.” Remorse and disgust filled her.
“One bite of bacon?” His raised eyebrow just pissed her off.
“Yup. Stuffed.” She rubbed her belly half-heartedly and went to Logan’s room to get her things, fighting back tears. She was so fucking stupid. Logan’s cat was sitting in the middle of the bed, in the spot where she’d just woken up. He looked at her with his ears back, and Katie had the sneaking suspicion the cat was plotting her demise. She wondered briefly where he’d been last night but didn’t give it too much thought. She had to get the hell out of here.
She stomped back to the living room, intent on getting out, but Logan was standing in front of the door when she got to it.
“Katie, wait. I don’t want you to think what we’ve shared didn’t mean anything to me.” His eyes looked sad, maybe even a little hurt, but she couldn’t care. He’d played her body in ways she didn’t even understand, yet he was throwing her to the curb, ready for his next conquest.
She pushed past him without a word and left.
Chapter Twelve
“Don’t you have a mess of boys at your house right now?” Annette sipped on her margarita at the table full of their friends Friday night.
“Yeah, but they’ll be playing video games until about midnight. That’s when they get restless and start rummaging around the kitchen. If I’m not there, they’re liable to destroy something. But I have a little time before then,” Katie answered, looking Annette square in the eyes, ignoring the heat next to her. Logan. Why he’d sat his massive fine ass next to her, she would never understand. She was still pissed at him. Well, not really him. Herself. But him, too, because she wouldn’t be pissed at herself if it weren’t for him.
And that made total sense inside her head. She wasn’t about to try to articulate it to anyone else.
“Really? They’ll be good at home alone?” Vivian had a small daughter, and it was a struggle to find a decent baby sitter every time she left the house. Katie had helped her a number of times so she and Joey could have some time alone.
“Sure. They’re good boys. I trust them.” Katie shrugged, looking around the table. Everyone was there, all eight of them, and it was too damn crowded.
Cole was in the corner giving them a death glare, but she couldn’t be bothered. Cole had treated her like shit, and Katie wasn’t going to waste an iota of energy on even thinking about him again. But Logan seemed to have other ideas. He kept throwing the man looks that would make most men run away. The low grumble in his chest kept sounding off, warning away any potential suiters. It would have been precious if Katie wasn’t so pissed at him she couldn’t see straight.
Herself. She was pissed at herself. He was just a man. He didn’t fucking know any better. She tossed back her drink, unable to care about the two of them together anymore. It never got her anywhere and she was over it.
She tried to occupy her mind with her shop. Sales were going to be down for the third quarter, and she was looking for a boost for the holidays—something totally quirky the tourists wouldn’t expect. An idea had been rolling around in her mind for a week, probably because of Logan, but it wouldn’t go away. When she had ideas like that, she had to go with them or else they would torture her.
Let out your inner Ho, Ho, Ho, and have yourself a kinky little Christmas.
That was her idea. Instead of the naughty Mrs. Claus panties she normally put in her window, she could do a bondage theme and utilize cuffs, chains, and quirts. Leather undies, corsets, garter belts, and maybe even some nipple clamps would be nice. Add in some tinsel and she couldn’t get the picture out of her mind. She’d have to order all new stuff from vendors she hadn’t used before, but it could be a gamble worth the risk.
Of course, thinking about a bondage theme in her lingerie shop only brought images of her with Logan straight to mind. She sat in the bar, imagining hot, sweaty orgasms he’d wrung from her willing body.
Thinking about business, mixing it with the pleasure from the man currently scorching her left side, had her shifting in her seat.
Katie remembered her punishment while trying to keep her face blank, feeling the heat of Logan’s body next to her, sensing his eyes on her, and hearing his breathing. Trying to distract herself with thoughts of Christmas business and her new bondage idea was an utter failure.
Currently, the guys were talking about the success of the classes they were teaching. She should have been paying attention to see if she could get any insider secrets that would help with the obstacle course at the end, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop thinking about the man next to her.
Cole nursed his beer as he stood next to the bar across the room. He was still staring at them, his dark eyes intense and accusatory. Katie shivered at the memories of him and hated herself for ever trying to pick him up here. He really wasn’t anything like her type, if she had one. The man was decent-looking, but now his face reminded her of a rat with his twitchy nose and squinty eyes. Eyes that were currently squinted in her direction.
A low rumble came from Logan. When Cole started walking in their direction, a weaselly smile on his face, Logan suddenly lifted her into his lap. Katie squealed in protest, but Logan’s mouth on her ear had her swallowing the noise.
“Just fucking pretend for a minute.”
Was he rescuing her from unwanted dialogue with Cole? Why did he care? He’d made it perfectly clear there wasn’t anything between them, but his hero complex clearly couldn’t take a break. Anger rose within her. Logan was a good guy, but this gallant side of him that was constantly at war with his impassive side was making her head spin.
She turned her head to him, inches from his face. Katie resisted the urge to run her hands across the stubble on his strong jaw. She didn’t want to bite his lips, at all. And the eyes looking at her through hooded lids? Yeah, those weren’t the least bit sexy.
“Mixed signals much?” She forced a flirty smile, doing her part to pretend. As much as she didn’t want to play this charade, she really didn’t want Cole to come over here. Logan’s mouth thinned into something severe, but Vivian interrupted whatever he was about to say.
“Katie? I have to use the restroom,” she said pointedly, her voice almost too loud in the quiet din of the bar.
“Awesome. Me too.” She struggled against Logan’s grip to no avail.
Vivian stood and grabbed Annette by the arm, who, in turn, grabbed Lettie. All three women stood and looked at her. “Now.”
Katie got it. It was a group thing. Grateful for a reprieve, she disentangled herself from Logan’s hard lap and the steel bands of his arms to stand. Logan kissed her temple before letting her follow the herd to the restroom. More smoke and mirrors. She ignored the heat where his lips had been and instead tried to remember if he’d ever kissed her like he meant it.
When she got in the door, her three friends looked like a formidable wall. Annette with her blond braid, Vivian with her dark curls, and Lettie with her messy ponytail were all standing in a row with their hands crossed.
“What?”
Vivian clearly knew what was up. She spoke, while the rest nodded. “You’re sitting over there looking like the most miserable human on the planet. More miserable than ever. What is going on? It looks like you got your man.”
“You don’t have a poker face, that’s for sure,” Lettie spoke up, which was surprising. Apparently, she could read people, even if she didn’t like them.
“Did he beat you?” Genuine concern crossed Annette’s face.
Vivian was eyeballing her ring, the symbol of the BDSM community.
“No. Of course not. Look, I know if you’re not part of the lifestyle, it seems odd, but I’ve been doing some dangerous things with men—”
“Well, no shit,” Lettie interrupted.
“And he called me out on it.” Katie couldn’t stop the flush that rose to her face. They wouldn’t understand what he’d done, that it had been a punishment, that she’d needed it, that he’d subsequently broken her heart. So she left that part out. “We had words. He gave me something I needed. And it’s done.” She sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Then if nothing changed, why do you look so sad?” Lettie uncrossed her arms, sliding them to her hips instead.
Ouch. That hurt. To hear someone else say nothing had changed only reinforced things for her. Nothing had changed.
Katie sighed, but she couldn’t stop there. Nope. She felt her face fall, then crack, and suddenly a sob escaped.
“Because I want more with Logan. I always h
ave.” The words came out in a choked wail. It was humiliating, and if she could take it back, she would. But Katie was among friends, even if they were all crowded around a filthy sink in the bathroom. “And nothing’s changed.”
“Oh, honey, come here.” Annette pulled her into a hug, and the others quickly followed suit.
Vivian begrudgingly said, “I don’t understand all that, but I know more than I did when we first talked about it. I just want you to be happy, hon. You were the first person to be friendly with me when I moved here, and I don’t know what I would do if that asshole made you unhappy.”
A chorus of “yeahs” met her ears, and Katie suddenly felt very loved. Even if Logan was breaking her heart all over again with his savior attitude, she would have her girls, and they had her back. It was a heady feeling, and she didn’t have enough arms to hug them all.
“Okay, so what’s up with Katie? You finally decided to give in?” Joey grinned at Logan, and for once, he wasn’t mad about someone bringing her up.
“Nope. Just tired of seeing her doing shit with other guys. She’s putting herself in some fucked-up situations. And Bonner is an asshole.” Logan had hoped they would let it go, but nope. Not a chance.
“Wait. Let me get this straight.” Joey had a hand up and started ticking on his fingers. “You’ve already fucked her and, by your own damn rule, you’re done with her. Yet you don’t want anyone else fucking her? Because that’s dangerous? What sort of shit is that?”
“Yeah, that doesn’t make a whole lotta sense, man,” Zane pointed out.
“Fuck off,” Logan growled at his friend who made entirely too much sense. Even if he hadn’t fucked her. Not technically. He’d been a hell of a lot more intimate with her than just a simple fuck.
“Fucking off.” Zane gave him a mock salute, which Logan returned with his middle finger.
“Did y’all hear we have another meeting with the arson investigator Monday? Man, I am not looking forward to that shit. I don’t like hearing about all the things this douchebag is capable of.” Joey shifted as he spoke, bringing a beer bottle to his lips. The arson investigator had worked up a profile for the guy who’d been going around setting fires in town. There was very little to be liked about any of it.