Matter of Time

by Alannah Lynne

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  His voice, more crackly than normal because of their splotchy cell connection, was the most beautiful sound in the world, and she melted into a puddle on the floor. Literally. Resting her back against the footboard of her bed, she drew her knees close to her chest and rested her forehead on them, then closed her eyes to block out all but the sound of his voice. “How are you? How are the kids?”

  “I’m better now that I’m talking to you. I miss you.”

  God, she missed him too and couldn’t wait until they were together again. And now that he’d called, her heart swelled with joy and hope and the belief it would really happen.

  “The kids,” he continued, “are doing all right. We met the insurance adjuster at the house this afternoon, and he believes it’s a total loss. So now begins the process of inventorying everything and waiting to find out what the insurance will pay. The kids are huddled together, drawing maps of each room, and helping each other make sure they list everything.”

  “What a chore that must be.”

  It seemed odd to be concerned about the woman who should be her enemy. But Bobbi Jo had been a part of Logan’s life for a long time, and as the mother of his children, she would continue to be. On the drive home, Lizbeth made peace with all things Bobbi Jo, so she took a deep breath and asked, “How’s Bobbi Jo?”

  His long, indrawn breath followed by a quick exhale caused prickles of unease to skitter across Lizbeth’s skin. “Honestly, I’m not sure. She was upset last night, obviously. And this morning…” He cleared his throat, and the prickles turned to jabbing pins and needles. “Things got weird. I was having this amazing dream about you, except when I ran my fingers through your hair, I discovered you’d cut it.” He laughed. “Which really pissed me off by the way.” His voice dropped an octave and grew even rougher. “I like wrapping it around my fist so I can control you.”

  His words fired a bone-melting heat in Lizbeth and sweat popped out along the back of her neck as she recalled all the times he’d done that very thing this weekend, controlling her speed and depth as she sucked him off, using her hair to pull her head back so he could kiss her while riding her hard from behind.

  She swallowed and licked her dry lips. “No need to worry about me cutting it.” Her voice was breathy, a clear indication where her thoughts had been. “I like you grabbing my hair too. But what does that have to do with anything?” As the pause on his end continued, her stomach clenched uncomfortably. “Logan?”

  “Let’s just say my beautiful dream turned into a nightmare.”

  Lucas’s words, “Knowing Bobbi Jo, she’ll try to use this situation to manipulate Logan any way she can,” came back to her, and bile rose to her throat, forcing her to swallow a couple times to keep from throwing up.

  “Fortunately, my body figured out something was wrong and refused to cooperate even before I woke up. But it was an eye-opener.” He chuckled. “Pardon the terrible pun. And it made me realize Bobbi Jo would try to use this situation to her advantage.”

  As nausea rose again, Lizbeth covered her mouth with her hand and drew in a couple of deep, calming breaths.

  “I cut that shit off quick, though. I told her we were as finished as two people could be.” Another brief pause. “And I told her about you.”

  Lizbeth gasped. “What?”

  “She needed to know there wasn’t any chance of us working things out. I tried to spare her the details, but she kept pushing, so I pretty much told her everything.”

  He told her about me? Pretty much everything?

  As his words sank in, the fear and worry she’d been carrying throughout the day evaporated. He didn’t have to tell Lizbeth about the morning’s event, but he did. And he’d told Bobbi Jo about her, which meant he truly did intend to work toward making a life with Lizbeth.

  His voice brought her back from her frantic mental ramblings, but she’d missed part of what he said. “I’m sorry. What?”

  “I said I’m sorry about what happened this morning. I debated on whether or not to tell you, but I don’t want any secrets between us. Transparency is going to be the key to making this work. I also need to apologize for not calling you sooner. I was so tired when I got home last night, and after brief conversations with the kids and Bobbi Jo, I crashed. And I’ve been on the go all day today, without a moment to myself.”

  “I understand. I confess I was a little worried when I didn’t hear from you. But Lucas gave me a pep talk. And I gave my heart a stern talking to, so it’s all good.”

  He laughed. Then his tone turned serious and a little husky. “Where are you?”

  “At home. I got back about fifteen minutes before you called.”

  “I wish I were with you.”

  “Me too.” She glanced around her bedroom. “We’re going to need to go furniture shopping. My room doesn’t have a cross in the corner. There are clothes in my dresser. And there’s no hooks on the bed.”

  He laughed low and deep. “We can fix that. Are you in your room now?”

  His voice grew more gravely with every question, and her body, picking up on the underlying sexual tone, started to respond. “Yes.”

  “Good. Right where I want you. Are you dressed?”

  “Of course.” She laughed. “I didn’t drive home naked.” But she could be in two seconds if that’s what he wanted.

  “Hmmm…” There was a pause, and she heard a pinging, like he’d opened the door of his truck with the keys still in the ignition. Then came the distinctive sound of the door shutting.

  “Where are you?”

  “Walking into my office. I needed some peace and quiet… and privacy.”

  She could understand needing peace and quiet once in a while, but… “Why do you need privacy?”

  “Because my children would be scarred for life if they overheard the things I’m about to say to you.”

  Her breath left in a whoosh and she scrambled to stand, then climbed into the center of her bed. “What do you have to say to me?” Her own voice grew husky as well, and the phone shook as an excited tremble started in her belly and worked its way out through her fingers.

  “I want you on your bed. But I bet you’re already there, aren’t you?”

  Was she that obvious? Or did he just know her that well, even after all these years? “Yes.”

  “Go—” The sound of another slamming door cut off the end of his word. “Take off your top but leave on your bra.” He paused for a minute, giving her time to comply. “Now pull the cups down under your breasts so your nipples are exposed.”

  Lying alone on her bed with her bra askance made her feel naughty and hot… which was probably his intent.

  “Close your eyes and imagine my hands massaging your breasts… my thumbs scraping over the hard tips.”

  She closed her eyes, moaned, and arched into the touch, which in her mind was all Logan.

  “Pinch your nipple and don’t let go until I tell you.”

  She did as he said, increasing the pressure when he told her to, and by the time he allowed her to let go, she was so worked up she thought she might come from that stimulation alone.

  “Take off your pants and your panties. I want your legs spread wide so I can crawl in between them and feast on you.”

  Her pants and panties were gone in a flash, and while she desperately wanted to touch herself, she waited for him to give her further instructions.

  “Put your phone on speaker and lay it next to your head.” She did as he said, then couldn’t stop herself from pinching both of her nipples at the same time. “You’re touching yourself again, aren’t you?”

  “How… how did you know?”

  “You whimpered. And considering how quickly you did it, I’m guessing you’re playing with your nipples again. Am I right?”

  “Yes.”

  “They’re so damn sensitive and responsive. I don’t blame you. I love touching them too and can’t wait to have them in my mouth again. Slide your hand
s down your stomach to that ticklish sweet spot, then keep going all the way down to your pussy.”

  She moaned again and nearly came when her fingers slid over her clit. She was so wet and aroused she doubted she could keep the game going much longer. Maybe she could make herself come one time, real quick, and he wouldn’t know.

  Yeah right. Considering he picked up on her pinching her nipples, he would definitely hear her coming. She wasn’t known for stealthy quiet in the throes of an orgasm.

  “Use one hand to spread yourself wide, the other to slick your juices over your clit.”

  She exhaled sharply at the touch and squeezed her eyes shut, imagining it was him. “God, I wish you were here touching me.”

  “Me too, baby. But for now, close your eyes and imagine I am. Spread your legs wide. Make room for me to slide between those silky thighs.” His breathing grew more labored, and she wondered if he was doing the same thing on the other end of the line.

  If not, he should be… and that gave her an idea. “Rather than sliding up between my legs, if you turn around, we can make this a mutually beneficial endeavor. I love how your cock stretches my mouth when you’re thrusting deep enough to hit the back of my throat.”

  A strangled moan came through the phone. She imagined him sitting in his office chair, pants down, hand wrapped around his impressive cock, stroking himself. The image further excited her, and she flicked her clit faster.

  “I can taste the pre-cum on my tongue. You’re getting close to coming down my throat, aren’t you?”

  “Hell yeah, but not until you’ve come first.”

  She wasn’t sure who said what after that, but it only took another handful of moments before her orgasm started in her stomach and erupted through every cell in her body. Muffled curses drifted through the phone, and she smiled, knowing he was right there with her.

  Finally catching his breath, he said, “You okay, sweetheart?”

  She giggled—freaking giggled—and said, “I will be once I can see straight again.”

  His laugh filled her chest with warmth like the cinnamon schnapps she drank the other night.

  “That was pretty good,” he said, then paused. “But it wasn’t phenomenal, and I feel hollow inside. I need to be with you, Lizbeth. Can we talk about our future now and how we’re going to work this out so we can be together all the time?”

  His voice carried a vulnerability she’d never heard from him before, and she squeezed closed her eyes as the emotional impact of his words rolled over her. Wrapping her arms around her pillow and pretending it was him, she said, “Absolutely. But, Logan, you need to know there’s nothing I won’t do to be with you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The next five days were a chaotic whirlwind for Logan. He loved having the kids in the house, seeing them in the mornings before they left for school, coming home to find them working on their homework or fighting over what to watch on television—which was ridiculous since they each had one in their room too.

  Living with Bobbi Jo was a challenge.

  But living without Lizbeth was hell. It was crazy to be so attached after just one weekend, especially since he’d lived without her for the past fifteen years. But during that time, he focused on Bobbi Jo and the kids and refused to allow himself to dwell on Lizbeth. Now, having her back in his life and knowing they had a future, he could hardly think of anything else.

  During their talk the other night, she agreed to travel to Charlotte for as long as necessary. She understood his situation with the kids and trying to deal with the insurance company, as well as his fear of being gone again so soon after last weekend’s potentially deadly disaster. And since she didn’t have any events scheduled, she agreed to come to Charlotte this weekend.

  Telling the kids he wouldn’t be home—which seemed weird considering it was his house—had been interesting. Brianna was shocked to learn he was seeing someone. Luke couldn’t have cared less. And Maggie said nothing, like she wasn’t sure what to think. After a while, though, each of them came to him on their own with additional questions.

  Brianna wanted to know how he and Lizbeth met, so he told her Lizbeth was an old friend Lucas ran into not long ago. The light bulbs instantly fired, and when she turned on him and said, “You were with her last weekend,” his chest filled with renewed guilt. He was still struggling with the events surrounding the fire and his unavailability, and her statement, which sounded like an accusation, didn’t bring him any closer to forgiving himself for not being home.

  Luke’s only question was, “Will we be able to get you on the phone if we need to?”

  Logan reassured him he wouldn’t turn his phone off or to silent—probably never again. Satisfied with the answer, that was the end of it between them.

  Maggie, the ultra-sensitive child, took things more to heart and asked if his new friend would keep him from spending time with them. That was more difficult to manage because, as was the case this weekend, the answer was yes. But after things settled down and the kids and Bobbie Jo were back in their own house, he could spend time with the kids and Lizbeth.

  Telling Bobbi Jo he wouldn’t be home hadn’t been quite so easy. She handled it as expected—not well. He tried to be as diplomatic and vague as possible, but it was like she had this deep-seated desire to be tortured. After days of hammering him for details, he started getting a really weird vibe about the whole thing and actually called the hotel and changed the room reservation to a false name. He couldn’t believe Bobbi Jo would turn into a deranged stalker or do anything to harm Lizbeth, but he wasn’t so sure she wouldn’t show up and make a scene.

  He pulled into the hotel parking lot, put the truck in park, then sat there staring at the side of the building. Lizbeth was in there somewhere, waiting for him, and he couldn’t wait to get to her. But sadness kept him glued to his seat as he realized this—clandestine meetings in hotels—would be their existence for the foreseeable future.

  It would take time for Bobbi Jo and the kids to find a new home, which meant having Lizbeth come to his place would be impossible. Going to Riverside would be a possibility down the road, but not until things settled down at home. He snorted and rolled his eyes. Yeah, home… where he used the front door like a visitor and hadn’t seen the inside of his garage—his pride and joy—for the past five days.

  He slung his bag over his shoulder, shoved open his door, and hit the call button on his phone. Lizbeth’s husky voice filled his ear and caused an immediate redirection of blood flow in his body. Once he reached her room, it wouldn’t be five seconds until he was balls deep inside her.

  “Which room leads me to heaven, sweetheart?”

  She laughed, and he imagined her hair falling over her shoulders and down her back. At least it better be down. Needing to erase the memory of waking to find Bobbi Jo’s mouth on him, he gave Lizbeth specific instructions to keep those long locks down and accessible… and to be prepared.

  “I’m in six-fourteen.”

  He pushed through the revolving door at the front, waved to the front desk clerk he knew from previous client meetings held here, then continued on to the bank of elevators. “Are you naked?”

  This time, her laugh held the purr of a well-tuned machine, and he hardened even more. “Mostly.”

  The elevator opened and he stepped on. Figuring he’d lose service, he growled into the phone, “I can’t wait,” then disconnected the call.

  When he got to her door, he found it propped open and didn’t miss a step as he barged in, then slammed it shut behind him. He’d booked a suite, so when a quick glance around the living room revealed nothing but chairs, a couch, and a desk, he took a hard left and proceeded to the bedroom.

  Lizbeth lay on the bed, propped up against the headboard, one long leg stretched out in front, the other bent provocatively at the knee. She wore black lace panties, a black bra that scooped under her breasts to leave her nipples exposed, and a big red bow tied around her hands.

  “You bett
er not have enlisted anyone else’s help to make that happen,” he said, nodding to the bow while stripping off his shirt and toeing off his shoes. By the time she finished running her gaze over his chest and stomach, he had his jeans undone and halfway down his thighs.

  “That’s what teeth are for, love.” She gave him a Cheshire Cat smile and chomped her teeth together.

  He was so fucking hard he ached from head to toe, and as he crawled onto the bed with her, he knew he should greet her with a tender kiss and stroke her skin to warm her up. But he wasn’t feeling gentlemanly at the moment. His need for her was all consuming, and he would die or at least pass out from excessive blood loss to the brain if he didn’t get in her immediately.

  He slid off her panties, spread her legs wide, and dropped a kiss to her inner thigh. Her heady aroma filled his senses and her pussy glistened in the dim bedroom light. Thank God she was as ready as him. He ran his fingers through her slick folds and spread it around, then brought it to his mouth and licked his fingers.

  “You’re as hot and ready as I am, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

  Her hooded eyes blinked and she drew in a shuddering breath. “I’ve been lying here waiting for about ten minutes, but it felt like hours. I need you inside me now.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Your wish is my command.”

  He settled between her legs, then took himself in hand and ran the head of his cock through her folds, gathering some of her moisture before easing in an inch… then another… and then, unable to hold back any longer, he sank balls deep in one fluid motion.

  “Oh, hell yeah. I’ve missed you so damn bad.” He drew back, but before plunging into her again, he slipped his head under her tied hands so her wrists wrapped around his neck and they were nose to nose. “I’ve missed your scent and your smile. And while I love seeing you on FaceTime, your eyes are so much prettier in person.”

  As he continued to stare into them, he thought about the hours of conversations they had via phone and webcam over the past week. They were so in sync with each other; they picked up right where they left off all those years ago. Except the entire state of North Carolina separated them.