Shock and arousal flew through her veins like wildfire. If this was Rule Number Three she had to at least consider it. It took mere seconds to realize her body had already responded in the affirmative while her mind was taking its sweet time catching up.
He ran his finger over her hot cheeks and down to trace her lips. “From that expression it looks like you like the idea. I give spankings to naughty naked girls so off with those clothes. If I have to tell you again it will only make your punishment worse.”
She froze, searching his features. He appeared to be completely serious. She tugged at her clothes trying not to think about the other women he might have done this with. There was no place for jealousy at a moment like this. She’d been with other men too.
Just not this kinky.
She pushed her panties down her legs and tossed them away but Logan caught them easily in midair. To her surprise he’d picked up her discarded clothing and carefully folded them before setting them on top of the dresser. He laid her panties and bra with her slacks and shirt.
“You don’t want your clothes to be wrinkled in the morning. Mommy and Daddy, remember? We don’t have to make it obvious.”
She would have made a smart ass comment about his domestic skills but he started plucking open the buttons to his shirt and her mouth went dry. His tan, muscular chest was revealed inch by inch until he was finally out of it. She followed his movements as if in a trance as he popped open the buttons on his fly and shoved the denim down and off along with his boxer shorts. Wanting to admire him she took a step back but he was already moving forward.
He pulled her into his arms, their bare bodies pressed close together. She could feel the rough hair on his thighs as their limbs brushed together. Her hard nipples were smashed against him and his cock rubbed her belly.
She let her hands roam up over his biceps and shoulders and down his back. His skin felt smooth and warm under her palms. His lips blazed a wet trail of kisses from her ear down to her neck until he found the sensitive spot where her pulse beat wildly. He nipped at it and then soothed the hurt with his tongue until her knees gave out. Lifting her into his arms, he laid her down on the bed and let his mouth tease her already sensitive nipples.
He drew circles with his tongue around and around until her back arched and her fingers dug into his scalp. Sucking the nub into his mouth, he let it go with a pop before moving to the other side. She was writhing underneath him, breathless and begging within minutes.
He lifted his head giving her a brief respite from his skillful hands and mouth. “Does that feel good? Do you want me to stop?”
He had that grin splashed across his face again, well aware he’d shattered her control.
She shook her head – her ability to speak had deserted her. He chuckled and planted open-mouthed kisses down her abdomen. Ava closed her eyes and savored the sensations but he paused at the top of her mound.
“First we need to get your punishment out of the way,” he announced.
Her lids snapped open and she lifted her head to give him a look of disbelief. He’d been mere inches away from her clit. His brow was lifted as if daring her to question him. She had tacitly agreed only moments ago to let him spank her. The idea tantalized and aroused her. She’d read some of the books Kaylee had written and knew many women enjoyed submitting to a man in an erotic setting. She trusted Logan wouldn’t truly hurt her, but there was still that good girl part of her that was holding back.
“I said I was sorry. Do I have to be punished?”
She couldn’t decide if she wanted him to say yes or no. The idea of being spanked by him had taken root in her brain and blossomed.
“You do. I don’t like people walking out on me. You knew that but did it anyway. This will ensure you think twice next time.”
From what he’d told her in the treehouse he had good reasons for not liking people to walk away. Too many had in his life.
Nodding, she sat up on the bed, not sure what to do next. His strong arm came around her waist and lifted her so she was draped across his knees. Her palms came to rest on the soft woven area rug beside the bed, her legs too short for her toes to touch the ground.
Logan’s callused hand rubbed circles on the exposed flesh of her bottom in almost a soothing motion. Unfortunately for Ava, it had the opposite effect. Tingles from her pussy shot through her body and she squirmed on his bare thighs until he lightly smacked an ass cheek.
“Stay still,” he commanded, his voice dark and deep. It sent arrows of pleasure straight to her clit and pussy. “I’m going to spank you now for walking out on me. Don’t ever do that again.”
Bracing her hands on the floor she waited. Logan took his time, rubbing her bottom more firmly until he’d brought the blood to the surface. His ministrations stopped and she squeezed her eyes shut as time seemed to stand still. It could have been a minute or an hour she stayed frozen in position.
When his palm finally did come down on her defenseless rear end she jumped as the sting and heat hurtled through her. Her mind barely had time to register the pain before he smacked her again and again. She was just about to call a halt to it when the fire in her bottom turned to something else. The heat had traveled directly to her pussy and clit, her honey dripping on Logan’s thighs.
Rubbing herself against him, the spanking continued, raising the temperature on her ass cheeks. Mewling with frustration, he had her positioned so she couldn’t get enough friction to send herself over. When she heard him chuckle, she knew it was by design.
The spanking stopped as abruptly as it had started. She moaned with need and tried to twist away, angry with him for denying her. Her entire body was on fire and she needed desperately to come.
“Easy, good girl. I know what you need.” His voice was soft and gentle and she stopped struggling as he easily held her down. His hand crept between her legs and his fingers stroked her swollen clit. She screamed his name as she tumbled into the abyss, her climax stronger than she’d ever known. Her body shook as wave after wave rolled through her. Slumped over his lap, she was sated and wrung out.
When she opened her eyes again, she was lying on the bed. Logan was rummaging in the bedside drawer and pulling out a condom.
“I think you enjoyed that,” he said as he tore open the package and rolled it on. “I know I did.”
She wasn’t quite ready to admit how much she’d liked it. Besides he was entirely too full of himself. “It was fine.” She held out her arms to him and smiled. “I know I’ll like this next part.”
He’d started to move toward her but he paused and quirked an eyebrow. “Fine? You were rubbing yourself against me like a cat and gushing honey from that pretty pink pussy. I think you’ll be wanting to do that again.”
Scowling, she dropped her arms. “I did not.”
“Did too,” he argued right back, but then his expression softened. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, good girl. It’s okay to enjoy it. Want it. Even need it.”
“I know that.” She turned away, not wanting him to see the conflict she was feeling inside. Already she was remembering the pleasure. He was right. She’d be begging for it.
His fingers under her chin were gentle as he made her look into his eyes. “No judgment here. I don’t think any less of you for liking it. Do you think any less of me for enjoying giving it to you?”
She shook her head at the challenge. “No. It’s just not what an independent feminist type should want.”
“Isn’t feminism about living your life by your own rules, not a man’s?” he asked.
“I guess.” She shrugged. Women’s liberation hadn’t been discussed in her household when she was growing up.
“I can guarantee you it was a man who came up with the rule that women shouldn’t enjoy sex, or spankings, or toys, or whatever brings them pleasure.”
She smiled at his logic. “And you don’t like rules.”
“I don’t. Let’s break them all tonight.”
It soun
ded like a hell of an idea.
Positioning himself between her legs, Logan didn’t hesitate. He filled her with one thrust, taking her breath away. Lifting her legs so they were slung over his shoulders, his cock drove deep inside her, rubbing sensitive spots she’d never known existed. Higher and higher he drove them until her head thrashed on the pillow and her body trembled on the brink.
It was wild, abandoned, and more than she’d ever imagined. With Logan she felt free. She could never do this with another man but there was something so accepting about him. He lived his life by his own rules and didn’t judge others who did the same.
She felt his lips exploring the flesh of her neck and heard the sound of their ragged breathing.
“Now, good girl,” he whispered into her ear just before he bit gently into her shoulder. A bolt of electricity seemed to fly from that spot straight to her clit. She froze for a moment then dug her nails into Logan’s back as her soul flew into the stratosphere. Her pussy tightened on his cock, and with a groan he tumbled after her. Their frenzied movements slowed and then finally stilled. He rolled to his back and pulled her close so they were curled together on the bed.
Logan stroked his hand up and down the curve of her spine and placed tiny kisses on her forehead. She didn’t have the words to describe how close she felt to him when they made love. It would have to be enough that he’d expressed he felt the same.
Reluctantly she pulled from his arms; he tried to drag her back down to the bed. “I need to freshen up. I’m also thirsty.”
He nibbled at her fingers. “I’ll get us a couple of sodas and meet you back here in five. I’m not done with you yet. There are many things I still want to do to you.”
She nodded and escaped into the bathroom. There would be no leaving under the cover of darkness tonight. She’d wake up with this man and face whatever future they had together, short or long.
Chapter Seventeen
Logan filled the coffee cup and readied himself for the next hour or so. George Bryson was here this morning to answer some questions. Per the request of his attorney, he’d been smuggled in the back door so the town wouldn’t know he was being questioned. Logan wanted this interview in more official surroundings to let George know this was serious police business. Now that Logan had more information about the business dealings of Bill Bryson he had a better understanding of what to ask about. The fact that George was his uncle wasn’t going to be a factor in the events this morning.
Not that Logan thought George was a killer. He didn’t have the guts to take a life from what Logan had seen. Bill had the stones in the family. George was a pale shadow of his brother.
Logan settled into the chair on the opposite side of the table as George and glanced up at the camera behind the other man. Ava was watching along with Drake in Logan’s office. She’d given him a list of questions she thought were important and damn if they didn’t almost match his own word for word. Everything about her was impressive.
She was smart, sexy, and a hell of a cook. At least she could make eggs and bacon as well as her mother. Logan had found that out this morning when he’d followed his nose to the kitchen. He’d found breakfast being dished out onto a plate and his stomach had growled in appreciation. She’d made some apology about the cheese being American and not Pepper Jack like her mother used, but he hadn’t cared. This was the first time he could remember since his mother was alive that someone had made him breakfast.
Unfortunately they hadn’t been able to linger over their meal too long. Drake had called and let him know that George’s attorney had agreed to the interview and it was scheduled for eleven in the morning. It hadn’t given Logan as much time as he’d wanted to prepare but that was probably intentional by the lawyer.
George sat next to the family attorney, Deke Kennedy, the same man who had delivered the news of Logan’s parentage. He wished it was someone else as it made him feel like he was at a disadvantage, wondering if there were other secrets this man knew that Logan didn’t.
“Thanks for coming in this morning, George. I appreciate it.” Logan ignored the attorney as was his custom when interviewing someone. The questions weren’t for him anyway.
George fidgeted in his chair and nodded. “Anything I can do to help, Logan. I want my brother’s killer brought to justice.”
“Then we agree on that point. We received the ballistics back on the bullet and Bill was shot by the vigilante that’s been murdering suspected criminals in this area. Since Bill wasn’t suspected of a crime, can you think of a reason the vigilante would want him dead?”
That tidbit of information hadn’t been made public. Logan used it right off the bat to unbalance George. Hopefully he could keep him that way.
George turned white and he reached for the handkerchief in his jacket pocket, mopping at his brow. “The vigilante? I’ve read about him in the papers.”
“I assumed you had. Why would he want to kill a fine, upstanding citizen like Bill Bryson?”
Logan watched as several expressions flitted across George’s face – confusion, fear, and then finally denial. “I can’t imagine why. Bill was a good man who was always doing things for the community. He cared about people. Every Christmas and Thanksgiving he would give a turkey to every employee of Bryson Development. He paid bonus wages when projects were brought in early. Hell, he sponsored a little league team for over thirty years.”
Sipping at his coffee, Logan looked over the rim. George was perspiring openly now and he dabbed at his forehead with the hanky.
“He wasn’t popular with everyone though, was he?” Logan challenged. “I mean, his business rivals hated him. He bribed local officials to change zoning laws and then used underhanded methods to drive his competition out of business.”
No sense beating around the bush. He already had George off kilter; he might as well knock him completely over. George flushed and cleared his throat.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
George’s tone was about an octave higher than before. Logan pressed forward.
“Come off it,” Logan scoffed. “Bill’s reputation as an asshole was well-known among his rivals. People hated him. Maybe even you. He kept you out of Bryson Development, after all.”
George shifted in his chair, his neck turning red. “Now wait a minute,” he protested. “Bill didn’t keep me out of the company. I wanted my own business.”
“He kept you out because you drink and gamble. Face it – you lived in your brother’s shadow. He was the brilliant business man. Not you,” Logan countered, leaning forward in his chair. George was feeling the heat and he ran his finger around the neckline of his shirt.
“That’s not true. I always wanted to be independent.” George’s shoulders slumped and he leaned over and whispered something in his attorney’s ear. Deke Kennedy nodded and then glared at Logan.
“My brother and I,” George began, “haven’t always seen eye to eye on everything. It was better for both of us if we had interests of our own.”
Logan pulled a piece of paper from the folder in front of him and slid it across the table. “Can you tell me what the twice yearly payments of one hundred thousand dollars were for and why they stopped suddenly?”
The attorney suddenly stood and placed his hand on George’s shoulder. “This interview is at an end. You’re fishing, Logan. You’ve got nothing against my client.”
“That’s true,” Logan agreed. “But he knows things about Bill’s business that could be pertinent. You might also.”
Kennedy simply smiled and snapped his briefcase shut. “Whatever I know is protected by attorney-client privilege.”
“Privilege died with Bill Bryson.” Logan smiled right back. He loved the cat and mouse games of interrogation. He was, after all, a patient man.
“He was your father, Logan.” George stood, his expression entreating. “How can you say these things about him? He was your father,” he repeated.
“Privilege still e
xists with the rest of the Bryson family,” Kennedy replied. “A family you are now part of, Logan. You should remember that.”
“Being a member of the Bryson family is more important than finding his killer,” Logan mocked. “I must remember that.”
“Family should come before anything.” George’s expression was somber. “That’s how I’ve lived my life. Bill did too.”
“We’re done here, George.” The attorney took a step toward the door. “If you have any more questions for George you can submit them in writing to my office.”
“I have several more,” Logan replied, a smile playing on his lips. He’d definitely received a reaction this morning. “I’ll email them today. They’re all about Bill’s business dealings.” Logan directed the last statement to George who looked distinctly ill at ease. He knew more than he was telling.
Logan didn’t bother to stand as the two men filed out. He sat there for a long time replaying the conversation over and over in his mind. One thing was clear. George was covering up the truth.
“He was lying.” Ava stood in the doorway of his office. “I couldn’t see his face but I could tell by how tense his back and shoulders were that he wasn’t telling the truth. Do you think he’s afraid?”
Logan shook his head and stood. “I think he thinks he’s doing the right thing. He seemed genuinely surprised the vigilante killed his brother, but did you notice he didn’t go into denial that Bill could have done something to catch the killer’s interest?”
“He should have,” Ava agreed. “If my sister had been shot by a vigilante I would be arguing she’d never done a thing to deserve it and it must all be a big mistake.”
“Well, good old George didn’t do that. He started talking about turkeys and little league.” Logan stroked his chin. “I think we’ve only scratched the surface here. Let’s get into the attic tonight and go through those old files. Maybe Frank has something there that will help us.”
Ava tilted her head. “What makes you think there’s anything up there?”
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