Bulletproof Weeks

by Taryn Elliott

  “Oh, is that right?”

  “He’s the client, he gets to set the rules.”

  They got off on the top floor and Bella paused outside Logan’s door. “Night, Sarah. Thanks for keeping me company.”

  “No prob.”

  “Okay, so I’m going to go in.”

  Sarah clasped her hands behind her back. “Just open the door so I can be sure no one is in there besides your man.”

  She shrugged and hit the code on the alarm. Once she opened the door, music poured out into the hall. Wow, that was some serious soundproofing. Being a musician made that a necessity evidently.

  Sarah peeked in then gave her a wave. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Bella closed the door and hung her jacket on the coat rack next to his. She’d noticed the piano in his bedroom, but hadn’t ever gotten the up close and personal view of a musician at work.

  She’d seen him on stage, had even admired his music room in his house, but when it came to seeing him in his private element, that was new. She slipped off her boots and dropped her bags on one of the club chairs on her way by.

  At the French doors to his bedroom, she stood transfixed. He was at the piano, and his shoulders held a fine sheen of sweat. Shirtless, barefoot, with only a pair of battered jeans on, Logan was in the middle of some sort of musical catharsis.

  He pounded down the keys. The muscles of his back and arms bunched and flexed as he scribbled on a sheet with his right hand, never letting up on the playing with his left. His head was thrown back as he repeated the same chords over and over again with a minor variance. He’d pause to scribble, then the thunderous notes roared out of the piano once more.

  She jumped when his voice came into the mix. It wasn’t the polished studio version she’d heard on the radio, nor was it the Logan she’d witnessed on stage. No, this was power and creativity literally being ripped out of his chest.

  This was far closer to the man that overwhelmed her in bed and her body reacted. The clashing notes were paired with a lustful string of words that left her heart racing. And as quick as it resonated through the room, there was silence.

  Logan scratched on a sheet of music paper, then in a battered moleskin notebook with pages dog-eared and tabbed with sticky notes. His shoulders lifted as if he’d run hard. When he closed the notebook, she rapped on the door jamb and finally dared to enter the room.

  He twisted on the bench. “Oh, hey.” He swiped his forearm over his sweaty brow. “How long have you been there?”

  “Long enough to be completely in awe.”

  He rolled his eyes and got up. He pushed a button on something on top of the piano. “You just witnessed the ugliest demo I’ve done all week.”

  If that was ugly then she wasn’t allowed to watch him practice. She crossed the room and dragged him down to her mouth. He made a muffled sound against her lips, then he crushed her to him.

  He pulled his mouth away and looked around the room. She shook her head. “Here.”

  He slammed the cover down on the keys, swiped the papers on the floor and lifted her onto the piano. He peeled down her jeans as she went for his button fly. The sound of brass buttons rending through denim had to be one of the sexiest things on the planet.

  Especially when her man was going commando. His thick shaft filled her hand and she stroked him to readiness. Her thumb coasted over the broad head, slick with his pre-cum.

  “Logan,” she panted against his mouth.

  “Fuck.” He opened her legs, hooking his forearm under her knee as he widened her even more with his hips against her thighs. “Let me in.”

  She nodded and rested her forehead on his shoulder as she painted the head of his cock through her folds. His head fell back when she did it again. He caged her against the piano, his breath growing heavier as she trapped his silky tip under her hood and rubbed him against her clit.

  Lost to the sensations, she managed to pull him free, her thumb teasing the underside of his head. He was a deep purple with need, the skin stretched tight and wet from her and him mixing together.

  She made a soft, slow exhale as she finally took all of him. She met his gaze as he ground against her and pulled out only to pound into her again. The piano shuddered under her, the thunderous clash of notes drowning out his growling pants.

  Logan was relentless. Whatever demons that had been driving the song had been unleashed on her. She took it all, welcomed this side of him and answered with her own greedy mouth urging him to give her more. Tongues and teeth fought for dominance with open-mouthed kisses that led to a heated lash of tongue along her throat.

  The pace couldn’t last, there was too much aggression on both their parts. She reached between them, her fingers sliding around his thrusting cock where they were joined. She stroked the pulsing vein along the underside of his cock and was rewarded with a deep guttural groan that was her name and an oath wrapped into one. With her other hand, she twisted her fingers in his hair and sobbed into his mouth, lost to the orgasm that snuck up on her and left her shattered.

  He turned his face into her neck and with the words that always wrecked her, he glued those pieces back together again.

  “Izzy, mine.”

  ∞ ♦ ∞

  He couldn’t quite step back from her. That would mean leaving her and probably tripping over his own feet. Jesus, he hadn’t even gotten his jeans past his knees. And the old piano definitely wasn’t meant for that kind of action.

  There hadn’t been time to switch gears. He’d channeled his worry and anxiety over Izzy being out without him by working on a song. The album was nearly done—or so he’d thought. Lately these anger-filled songs were growing in number. And it took a little time to come down from them. Nor did he ever let someone hear the raw versions outside of the band.

  But she’d just been there. Her eyes wide and heated. Hell, even her body had responded. Her nipples had been tight and raised under the shirt she’d hijacked from his closet. Reacting to the music, to him, and the moment. He’d never been the type to have groupies in the studio, and the few actual relationships he’d had over the years had been very separate from this side of him.

  With good reason. That visceral reaction was crazy intense, and she already made him feel too goddamn much.

  Her fingers slid down to his ass and squeezed before coasting up his back. “Wow. Is this how songwriting goes all the time?”

  He laughed into her neck. “How do you think I keep Zeke around?”

  “I see. I’ll play stand in, anytime.” She hooked her arm around his neck and grinned up at him.

  Relief washed over him at her teasing. He tucked his hands under her and lifted her off the piano to slide to the floor. She wobbled a little and he tugged her in against his chest.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt a session, but wow. That was amazing, Logan. Is that on the new album?”

  He hiked his jeans back up. “I don’t know. I just wrote it.”

  “Like that? I—geeze. Is it always like that?”

  He kissed her forehead. “No, definitely not.” He glossed his hand over the chipped and scarred surface still warm from her body. He’d go mad if every song was like that.

  She brushed the backs of her knuckles down his cheek. “I want to go home, Logan. With you.”

  Relief and the nerves he’d been carrying warred in his chest. “Yeah?”

  She nodded. “I miss home. I miss being home with you.”

  He swung his arm around her shoulders and crushed her to him. Thank fuck.

  She looped her arms around his back. “I might live in the studio if this is one of the perks.”

  “Deal.” He loosened his grip and bent his knees to toss her over his shoulder. “But first, a shower.”

  She laughed and wiggled until he brought his hand down on her ass. “Revenge will be mine, King. Just you wait.”

  After a long, leisurely shower, they made plans to leave that night. Both of them were more than ready to get back to Win
chester Falls and the traffic out of the city was far easier to navigate on the off hours.

  They both spent the evening packing and making phone calls. Finally Izzy cried mercy and they took a power nap. Three hours later they were taking the elevator down to the parking garage.

  “So, do we have a crazy sports car or some vintage Chevy to drive home in?”

  He dragged his suitcase behind and hooked her bag over his shoulder. “No.”

  “You’re a rockstar, for God’s sake. Where’s the ostentatious spending?”

  He shook his head. “Weirdo.”

  She skipped ahead wearing another filched shirt, this time a Cowboys sweatshirt that went to her damn knees. She spotted his truck and turned around to walk backwards. “Really?”

  He shrugged. “I can’t quit her.”

  Izzy rolled her eyes. “I guess not.” She waited patiently as he opened the storage compartment in the back and they stowed their luggage. Then got in on his side and slid over the bench seat.

  She looked good there. All buckled in, fingers flying over her phone. “At least you have an auxiliary jack.”

  “We are not listening to your music.”

  “Oh, yes we are.”

  “Driver picks the music.”

  “Not this time, buddy.”

  He switched on the ignition and Katy Perry came screaming through his speakers. “Hell no.”

  She grinned. “Just kidding. I do like her, I can’t tell a lie.” She flicked through her files. “Don’t give me that face.”

  “What face?”

  “That judgy face.”

  “I don’t have a judgy face.” He pulled out of the garage and onto the cobblestone of Mercer. But then the cab of the truck was full of the howls of a crowd and acoustic strains of “One Week” from Barenaked Ladies and he decided he was pretty much going to marry her. They spent the next hour in the truck singing along to them as she tried to spit out the rapid-fire lyrics that were a hallmark of the band.

  She was a terrible singer.

  But, overall she made a great traveling companion. A little chatter, more than a few teasing remarks, and lots of music.

  By the time they pulled into the long driveway of his cabin, she was fast asleep against the door, Mumford and Sons blaring away. The familiar pop and tick of gravel under his tires evened him out.

  He didn’t realize just how much he’d needed this place. The A-frame front was dark save for a dim light above the door and strategically placed solar lights along the path. Instead of waking her, he circled the truck and lifted her out of the truck. Their bags could wait. With a jaw-popping yawn of his own, he carried her to the front door. She stirred slightly when he had to jostle her to get his hand on the palm plate, but four in the morning was more than his girl could deal with, power nap or not.

  She woke halfway up the stairs, her arms tightening around his neck. “Hey, I’m missing out on the romantic stuff.”

  He snuffed out a half-laugh. “I’ll make a repeat performance when you’re more coherent.”

  “You better.” Her voice was sleepy against his neck.

  He set her on the bed and flipped off her little travel shoes, helped her out of her yoga pants, then rolled her into his bed. After a quick trip to the bathroom, he shucked his clothes and followed her.

  There would be no restless staring at the ceiling tonight. An armful of Izzy and the familiar scents of home dragged him under. Finally, he was where he belonged.

  CHAPTER TEN

  A light buzz against her hip pushed Bella from sleep to wake. Opening one eye, she took a look around the familiar, and yet still strange space. She’d only spent a few days with Logan at his house, but she definitely remembered the bedroom.

  She was also getting used to their odd sleeping arrangement. They usually started out wrapped around each other, but by morning, Logan was on his stomach with an arm flung over her middle. Like he needed his space, but needed to know she was beside him too.

  It was sweet. And she had to admit she was getting used to it far too easily.

  Again, her hip buzzed. She fished under her for the pocket of the hoodie. Somehow her phone still had a charge.

  God, that couldn’t be right? Two in the afternoon?

  Watery gray daylight barely lit the room. The tick of sleet against the window explained why she was still unconscious. It looked like it was early morning. Ah, January in the mountains. They were lucky they hadn’t hit weather on the drive in.

  She read the text from Nic and fired back a quick reply. She wanted to surprise her at the store. If she could rouse her driver.

  “What time is it?”

  “I didn’t mean to wake you.” She burrowed under his arm as he rolled over to face her.

  “My aching back woke me. Means I haven’t moved in way too long.”

  “What time did we get in?”

  He yawned and stuffed a pillow under his head. “Four.”

  “Wow. Ten hours down.”

  “Christ, no wonder my body hurts.”

  His stomach roared and she laughed. “Hungry too.”

  He leaned in and buried his face in her neck. “That, too.”

  She laughed. “How about I take a shower, and you cook breakfast. I have to go into the store.”

  “Ah, reality, how I hate you.”

  “I’ll be back tonight to make it up to you.”

  “I like that idea much better.” He brushed his cheek against hers. “Is that rain?”

  “I think it’s sleet.”

  He sighed. “This is why I normally come in the summer.”

  “You look cute in winter hats.”

  He rolled his eyes. “With that, I’m up.”

  She laughed as he slid out of bed and padded out the door. “Logan.”

  “What?”

  “It’s twenty degrees. Aren’t you going to be cold?”

  “Am I ever cold?” He called from the stairs.

  “You will be when you go out to get my bag.”

  “Crap.”

  She laughed and scooted into the bathroom. One thing he didn’t skimp on was amenities. This part, she could definitely get used to. Heated floors and towel rack, along with the multi-headed shower made for a far longer shower than she usually took. She was rosy and warm by the time she was done and her bag sat on the bench at the end of his bed.

  The smell of bacon lured her downstairs. She found him dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt wielding a spatula. A pile of crispy deliciousness filled a plate on the island along with orange juice and a carafe of coffee waiting for her.

  “Eggs up in two minutes.”

  “So, I’m moving in tomorrow.”

  “Good.”

  She laughed. “I’m kidding.”

  He looked over his shoulder. “I’m not.”

  Her heart skipped and then slammed against her breast bone. “Logan, we just got back together.”

  “You’re safer here.”

  Well, it was nice to know he wasn’t completely perfect. “That is not a reason to move in. Besides, I actually live over my store. Talk about good commute.”

  “You can do most of your research here. Whatever I don’t have, give me a list and I’ll acquire it.”

  “Such a romantic.”

  He sighed and scraped scrambled eggs onto a plate for each of them. “I’m being sensible.”

  She didn’t want sensible. She wanted to have some time to figure things out. She’d never actually lived with a man, and didn’t want her first time to be under dire circumstances. And call her silly, but she actually wanted him to want her there, not just because it was a convenient way to watch over her.

  “I like my space.”

  He set the plate in front of her on the breakfast bar. “I’d be more comfortable if you stayed with me.”

  “I’m not stopping my life for this woman. It’s been what? A year?”

  He cleared his throat. “Almost two.”

  She slumped onto the bar stool. �
�And for the last six months I’ve been working and traveling and she hasn’t come at me once.”

  “Things are a little different now.” He nodded to her plate and snagged a piece of bacon and held it in front of her. “Eat.”

  She snapped her teeth around the strip and munched. And because it tasted amazing, she reached for three more.

  He settled beside her. “She left you alone because we weren’t together.”

  “So, what? We’re going to hide?”

  “No.”

  His gruff voice didn’t reassure her. If Logan had his way, he’d have her holed up at the cabin twenty-four-seven. She knew this, and she was prepared for it. Didn’t mean she was going to let him get away with it. They finished their breakfast quietly, just the scrape of silverware over stoneware.

  When she took the dishes to the sink, she turned to find Logan with his head down and his fingers kneading the back of his neck. She circled the island to stand behind him and still his fingers.

  “I’m going to be fine.” He dragged her hand to his mouth to kiss it and she wrapped herself around him. “It’s not festival time. And everyone in this town is so damn nosy, there’s no way we wouldn’t know if she came to town.”

  “Doesn’t necessarily mean it will be her. She doesn’t get her hands dirty.”

  She tucked her chin into the dense muscles of his shoulder and neck. “So we take the offensive. Don’t let her see that she has any power over us. We work, we have friends over, we don’t stop living.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Of course I am.”

  “So modest.”

  “I’m good for you. Now, I’m going to clean up and you’re going to bring me to work. Tonight, I’ll drive my car over.”

  Logan got dressed while she did the dishes and they were out the door in no time. The roads were well salted since they didn’t move until well past the work hours of normal humans. As they hit Main Street, she realized it felt odd and a little ominous to be back here with him. The last time she’d been heading for the store with him they’d just agreed to give their relationship a try.

  That hadn’t ended well.

  She tried to shake off the uneasiness. It felt like months since she’d been home, even if it was only a little over a week. She was happy to see a few people parked in front of the store and Adam and Nic both with customers when they walked in.