Scruples

by Ditter Kellen

  “Please don’t stop.” There was no hesitation in her voice.

  “I don’t plan on it.” He brushed his lips across hers. “I hate like hell to hurt you.”

  “You won’t. I trust you.”

  Her words were a kick to his gut. He would cause her pain, of that he had no doubt. He was a big man, and this was her first time.

  He kissed her again. “I need you to relax as much as you can. It’s going to be uncomfortable for a minute, but the pain doesn’t last long.”

  “It’s okay, Logan. I want you.”

  She brought her legs around his waist, and laid her palms on either side of his face. Logan held her gaze as he withdrew, and slowly entered her a little more, repeating the process several times, giving her time to adjust to his invasion.

  He slid his hand between their joined bodies to softly stroke her swollen flesh. Carly moaned, straining against him, never breaking eye contact. The feel of her heat, her wetness, her passion, nearly pushed him over the edge.

  Logan watched in amazement as her pupils dilated with a growing orgasm. He covered her lips with his own and flexed his hips, breaking through her hymen in one swift thrust.

  She cried out against his mouth. “Oh God, Logan.”

  His muscles shook with the effort of holding still. The feel of her squeezing him, and accepting him was beyond anything he’d ever imagined. “I’m sorry, sweetness. I won’t hurt you again.”

  “I never knew it could be like this.” She stared up at him with complete trust shining from her eyes. He would make it good for her if it killed him.

  Logan removed his hand from between their bodies, and laced their fingers together, bringing them above her head. He nipped her chin. “Do you know what you feel like to me, Carly?”

  “Tell me,” she whispered.

  “Heaven. So soft and wet.” He bared his teeth as he withdrew from her tight warmth, and penetrated her again.

  Logan could listen to the sounds Carly made for the rest of his unnatural life. To think he was the one to bring her so much pleasure filled him with such a powerful rush, he almost came right then. She belonged to him, and not just for one or two nights of lust, he thought with a roll of his pelvis against hers. Forever.

  “Mine.” Had he said that aloud? He did, but he didn’t care.

  Something flickered in her gaze. “Don’t hold back.”

  He needed no further encouragement. Every pore he had opened to her, his senses came to life with every touch, every smell and sound she made, pushing him closer to the edge.

  His gums began to itch with the thought of sinking his teeth into the fleshy part of her neck. He couldn’t, of course. Not yet.

  He nuzzled her head to the side, and buried his face against her shoulder. Her fragrance was light with a hint of flowers. His sex grew harder if that were possible.

  “Logan. It’s happening again,” She gasped in wonder.

  That had to have been the sweetest fucking confession he’d ever heard. “Go with it, love. Feel me stretching you, loving you. Ride it with me, I’m right there with you.”

  She began to contract around him, and Logan lost his mind. He could barely move inside her, she squeezed him so tight. A hoarse shout burst from his chest as his seed left his body in a rush of climatic spasms that came from his very soul.

  Chapter Ten

  Carly lay limp in a haze of pleasure, listening to Logan’s choppy breathing. The euphoria she’d experienced at his hands, cradled her in a blanket of love, belonging…of home.

  Tears of heartache burned behind her eyes with the knowledge of where they stood. He could never know the depths of her feelings for him. But she would hold him in her heart for as long as she lived.

  “Are you okay?” He stirred above her.

  “Better than okay. That was more than I ever dreamed it would be.”

  Logan lifted his head, propping up on his elbows to hold his weight off her. “How is it possible that you have never been with a man? Not that I’m complaining, on the contrary, I’m honored.”

  He smiled down at her with the truth shining in his eyes, and she knew in that moment, she’d never give herself to anyone else.

  She opened her mouth to tell him she’d saved herself for him, and the sound of his father’s voice weaved its way through her mind. “You will stay away from my son, Carly Bryson. His life will forever be under scrutiny, and your family’s name isn’t the best in this town. Everyone knows what your mother was. You will ruin him.”

  Carly had heard the stories growing up about her mother. Sarina had been married before meeting Charles Bryson, and had spent time in prison for drug related charges by taking the wrap for her husband, Mack Doyle. Mack divorced her while she’d been incarcerated, and he’d eventually left the state only to end up serving life without parole for the murder of a man in Georgia.

  It wasn’t a pretty story, but Sarina had been innocent of the charges and soon after being released, met and married Charles. Carly’s father had loved his wife until the day he died, and Carly had never known a kinder soul than Sarina. But Logan’s dad was right; she thought with a pang of guilt, it would ruin Logan’s chances of running for office.

  She cleared her throat, trying like hell not to break down in front of him. With a heart full of resolve she leaned up and kissed his lips. “I was just so busy and never really met anyone I trusted. It’s a simple as that.”

  Hurt shown briefly in his eyes, but he quickly masked it. “I see. I’m glad it was me, Carls. Words can’t describe what I’m feeling right now. I would have never dreamed…”

  He trailed off and Carly took advantage of the reprieve before she burst into tears, and admitted her love for him.

  “I’m glad it was you too, Logan. Now I need to take a shower. I have to open Scruples.” She gave a small smile and a gentle push, signaling she wanted up.

  He rolled to the side, freeing her from his warm prison. “Call in sick.”

  Carly laughed. “The locals would crucify me. I bet Adele, Sadie and Madge are sitting out front smoking as we speak, waiting on the doors to open.” She stood and shimmied into her shorts, holding the pajama top against her breast as best she could. A blush crept up her neck as his gaze raked down her body. She turned on her heel and fled the room.

  * * * *

  Logan watched Carly dart from the room, holding that damn piece of clothing in front of her to protect her modesty. She had no idea how beautiful she was to him. Perfection, he decided with a groan, throwing an arm across his face. And she belonged to him no matter what she had in her mind. He felt it in his heart, hell, his soul knew it.

  The look in her eyes when he’d asked her about being untouched wasn’t lost on him. Had she given herself to him because of buried feelings, or did it have something to do with her near death experience? He was inclined to believe she cared about him, he’d felt it in her touch, the way she’d come apart in his arms.

  He’d nearly lost her tonight. The image of her terror would forever be burned into his brain like a recurring nightmare, tormenting him for the rest of his life.

  A brush of his fingers across his shoulder told him the wound had healed, but he left the bandage on. The last thing he wanted was to have to fumble around with some kind of pathetic lie after what they’d just shared.

  Logan swung his long legs over the edge of the bed. He needed to split the scene before Carly emerged from her shower, and realized he’d lied about his clothes or worse, she may want to check his injuries. He’d be driving home in the nude, he surmised with a cringe, looking around for something to wrap around him for the ten minute drive to his place.

  His gaze landed on the bed sheets they’d just made love on and he noticed a small smear of blood. His stomach flipped, his heart clenched and he dropped to his knees beside the bed. With an unsteady hand, he laid his palm over the evidence of the incredible gift she’d given him, and bowed his head. “Aliheligi,” he murmured. The old Cherokee word for grateful had
never felt more right than it did in that moment.

  Chapter Eleven

  Carly pulled up in front of Scruples with only minutes to spare. Adele, Sadie and Madge sat around a small, wrought iron table, smoking and cackling as they usually did before the doors opened. You could set your watch by the sisters. They were always ten minutes early, wearing outrageous hats and usually had a couple of cats lounging around next to their feet.

  The three women lived on the Lake yard in a massive, two story home that had been in their family since 1892. They’d never married, and rumor had it they were witches. But rumors being what they were, circulated as an unverified account, had plagued the small town since the first building had been erected well over a hundred years before.

  Cool, crisp air lifted Carly’s hair as she stepped out of her car and waved to the trio. “Good day, ladies. Who’s ready for some coffee?”

  “I was born ready,” Sadie piped in as she slowly got to her feet.

  Carly unlocked the front door, holding it wide for the group to enter ahead of her. The cats stayed outside as they usually did. Carly had never seen cats as strange as the Murphy sister’s pets. Well, other than Pyscho, but come to think of it, he’d come from the Murphy’s also, Carly mused.

  When everyone cleared the door, Carly began flipping on lights. “I’ll have the coffee ready momentarily. Make yourselves comfortable.”

  She knew they would sit at the bar as they did every day, drinking two pots of caffeine before ordering lunch. Some things never changed, she contemplated with a smile on her way to the kitchen.

  The familiar sounds of the Murphy sister’s laughter soothed Carly’s anxiety over what had happened with Logan a few hours before. This, she could handle. This, she knew. This was her life, her home. Logan was a dream she could never have, and the sooner she got that through her head, the better off everyone would be.

  Carly busied herself with the coffee pot, replaying the morning’s events over and over in her mind. Logan’s gentleness, his scent, the feel of his hands on her body, his kiss, his injuries, played through her memory like a mantra. She could still feel him inside her body, and would for several days, she assumed. And that was okay. He’d still be making love to her now if she had her way.

  “Coming through,” Bradley announced, squeezing behind her on his way to the stove.

  “Shit. You scared me.” She’d been so lost in thought; she hadn’t heard him come in.

  “Daydreaming will get you burned, Miss. Carly.” He wriggled his eyebrows and grinned.

  Bradley had been with Scruples for years, and Carly loved him dearly. He managed the kitchen with an iron fist, handling everything from preparing the food, to ordering the supplies. He was irreplaceable, and Carly would be lost without him.

  “I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’m just tired and cranky, so consider yourself warned.” She winked and finished her chore of making coffee for the lunch crowd that would begin appearing any minute.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket, signaling the arrival of a text message. She fished out her cell, and swiped her thumb across the screen. Thinking of you. Hope to see you tonight.

  Carly hesitated. She wanted to see Logan more than anything, but inviting him back would be asking for trouble. The longer she spent in his arms, the harder it would be when he would have to move on and marry another. She didn’t think her heart could take that.

  With her mind made up she responded. See you at seven.

  If she lived to be a hundred, she’d never understand why she sent that text. Her intentions had been good, but her heart overrode her brain and something got crossed up on the way to her fingers. Bloody hell.

  Bradley muttered something over the banging of pots and pans. But Carly wasn’t listening. He tossed a dish towel in her direction.

  “I’m sorry, what?” She put her phone away and faced her chef.

  “I asked if you had a date last night.”

  A blush spread up her neck to burn her cheeks. “No, just had some friends over.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” But she knew. She never could lie very well, and especially not to Bradley. He was originally from New Orleans, and she’d heard he was a descendent of a Voodoo Queen. Although, that was probably something else that had found its way down the rumor line, she suspected.

  “Don’t mean a thing. The coffee’s ready. You better hurry before those three biddies start picketing the place.” He chuckled and went back to turning the bacon.

  “Not nice,” she scolded with a grin and rushed to fill three cups to the brim for said biddies.

  Chapter Twelve

  Logan drove home in a daze with one of Carly’s blankets thrown across his lap. The reality of last night’s events came crashing through in flashes of painstaking memory. Why would a Shifter be snooping around Carly’s place? He didn’t think it had anything to do with him, or the rogue would have slinked off before drawing Carly’s notice. The guy sure as hell wouldn’t have tried to attack her.

  Whoever it was, had to have known Logan was there. The big, black truck parked in her drive couldn’t possibly be missed. It stuck out like a Klingon at a Star Wars convention.

  No, a Shifter looking for Logan would have broken into his home while he slept or showered. He wouldn’t have risked being seen by Carly or Cassandra. Human attention was the last thing his kind wanted or needed.

  Logan pulled into his driveway and switched off the truck. Kojak and Alabama were still on the porch where he’d left them. He wrapped the blanket around his waist and jumped to the ground. “At ease.”

  Both animals bounded off the porch, skidding to a stop at his feet. They took turns bumping into his legs in a search for attention, and Logan gave them equal amounts of scratching and praise. “Anyone come slipping around here while I was gone?”

  The tail wagging and happy dance answered his question.”I didn’t think so.”

  He gripped the edges of the blanket and sauntered up the steps with as much dignity as the makeshift clothing would allow.

  Once inside, Logan took a quick shower. He hated to wash Carly’s scent from his body, but he needed to pay his father a visit to discuss the rogue, and Alfred had a keen sense of smell. Not that Logan wanted to hide Carly from his dad; it was more out of respect for her privacy.

  Logan knew his father was aware of his son’s feelings for Carly. He also knew that Alfred didn’t approve of her. The two of them had argued over it for years. Carly couldn’t help what her mother had been or done, and none of that mattered to Logan. If it came down to a choice between his career and the love of his life, he’d choose Carly in a heartbeat.

  * * * *

  The City of Defuniak Springs was alive with activity when Logan pulled into the parking lot of Sanders Hardware Store. His father’s car was parked in its usual spot, pristine and ridiculously expensive. Logan hadn’t inherited Alfred’s flare for flash, or his greed. He’d taken after his mother in nearly every aspect of his life. He loved the country, loved people, and never judged.

  Alfred wasn’t a bad sort; he’d just allowed his ambitions to supersede his good sense most of the time. The end result was a big, empty house full of expensive art, antiques, and a lonely wife.

  Logan switched off his truck and made his way inside, stopping to speak to several employees before heading off to the office in back. Random customers smiled and spoke as they milled around in search of parts for the days project. Life, Logan suspected, was far easier outside a Shifter’s realm. He almost envied them their normalcy.

  He tapped on the office door before pushing it open. Alfred sat behind a big oak desk with a phone stuck to his ear. He wrote something on a piece of paper and motioned for Logan to enter without looking up. His father didn’t need to see who’d darkened the door to know who it was; he no doubt smelled Logan the second he exited his truck.

  Logan took a seat and propped his booted foot over the opposite knee, prepared to wai
t. His father was a people person and could talk a turtle out of his shell.

  Alfred was a big man, approximately six feet four inches tall with salt and pepper hair. He stayed in shape, dressed with care, and handled his business with the efficiency of a general.

  “What brings you here, Son?” He replaced the phone and smiled. “I thought you were taking the week off.”

  “Someone tried to kill me last night.”

  “What?” Alfred jumped to his feet with a stunned look on his face. “Who?”

  “A Shifter. I don’t know who he was. I’ve never scented him before.”

  “Tell me everything.”

  Logan recited the nights events, careful to leave out what had transpired after the attack. “He had to have been after Carly or Cassandra.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  Something in his father’s voice sounded off, or preoccupied, Logan wasn’t sure. He brushed it aside and continued. “He went after Carly. But he had to know I was there, my truck was in the drive.”

  “Was she hurt?” Alfred dropped heavily in his chair.

  “No, but she would have been if I hadn’t been there.” He could still see the terror in her eyes.

  “How did you handle it?”

  “I had no choice but to shift, or he would have killed her.”

  “Damn it, Logan. Did she see you?” Alfred’s face had taken on a red hue, leaving no doubt his blood pressure was through the roof.

  “Of course not. But she did see the wolves, and we’ll be lucky if she doesn’t report it. We sure as hell don’t need the authorities involved, or hunters combing the woods.”

  “Make sure she doesn’t make that call.”

  “I’m more concerned with a rogue in our territory, and what he wants with Carly.” Logan’s gums tingled with the thought.