by Kate Aster
I’m wallowing in my own thoughts, negativity spiraling out of control as it always does with me in unfamiliar situations. And this is completely unfamiliar. I feel tears dampen my eyes, maybe from fear or shame or just an overwhelming feeling of loneliness at the thought of losing him, when he comes back to the bed.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Damn, he notices everything.
“Nothing, I—” I want to tell him that I’m not used to these situations and it scares me. I want to tell him… but I can’t.
“You don’t have regrets, do you?” He lies down next to me, pulling me to my side and resting his hand on my waist. His touch is so tender, it slays me inside, letting him deeper into my soul.
“No. No, definitely not. I—I’m not really…” My voice wavers. “I’ve only had one sex partner in my life. I’m not really good at these things.”
There’s shock in his eyes, and there’s no denying it. I know my average is damn low since my friends tease me about it regularly. And I remind myself that just because I haven’t had a lot of sex in my life, doesn’t change the act itself. It’s still just sex, and I shouldn’t act like it’s a big deal.
But it feels like a big deal right now, with nesting hormones surging through my veins uncontrollably and me just inexperienced enough to not be able to control it. I don’t remember feeling quite this way with Devin, even my first time. And that means that in the span of just a few weeks, this man has crept closer to my soul than someone I supposedly loved for over a year before he dumped me on my ass.
I can still remember the pain of that rejection at a time when I needed him most. And if Logan means more to me than Devin did, then I’m even more vulnerable.
I feel the fear inside me, making me shiver as he pulls my naked body closer to his. He takes my hand and gives a playful tug.
“Come on,” he urges as he stands, his hand still joined to mine. “I thought a hot bath might be in order.”
My heart does a little happy dance as he takes me into the bathroom and I see the steam rising from the soaker tub. I remember the first time I saw this tub, and the thought of him in it with me has fueled my fantasies on more than a few occasions. So the prospect of actually fulfilling the fantasy has me just about passed out on the floor.
“You like baths, right?” he asks, dipping his foot into the tub and leading me to join him.
“I love them. My condo only had a stand-up shower.”
He tsk-tsks a little with a laugh. “That’s a sin.” He slides down the back of the tub and moves me so that I am sitting facing away from him, cradled between his legs. They are powerful, like the rest of him. His calves are as thick as my thighs—and I’m no toothpick—and corded with muscles that make me suspect he’s run a few marathons in his life.
Reaching for the bar of soap, he touches his lips to my neck. I feel his erection coming to life behind me and it sends my heart racing again. Sliding the soap across my chest, my nipples pucker at the sensation. Then he rubs the soap in between his hands to a nice lather and sets the bar to the side. His hands caress me, up my arms to my neck, down my back, and again to my breasts. I inhale sharply as his touch journeys down my belly, and one hand toys with my soft curls while the other softly slides along my opening. I part my legs more, aching to have the feel of his flesh inside me again, but he whispers, “Not now, beautiful. Rest now. I worked you too hard.” I can feel his low chuckle vibrate against my back.
His fingers continue their sultry massage, circling and teasing, but never penetrating my folds. “Please,” I beg, unable to hold back.
“Shhh,” he murmurs as one hand moves to my chest, cupping a breast and squeezing a nipple just to the point it almost hurts, but not quite. His mouth plunders my neck, sucking on me, grazing his teeth against me, and then his tongue forges a path down my shoulder.
He reaches to pop the plug from the drain, still letting the fresh, hot bathwater flow from the faucet. “Rinse cycle,” he says, and I feel him smiling against the skin of my upper back as he kisses me.
Between my legs his fingers play with me again, making all my muscles as taut as a violin’s strings. He circles my clit, and then lightly traces the outline of the folds that are still tender from his entry. Reaching my center again, I moan, low and desperate. “Oh, Logan.”
“That’s right, baby. Feel it.”
The fresh, hot water that is making my skin sizzle is nothing compared to the heat I feel in my veins as my core seizes up. I feel the blood flow pooling at my center, throbbing, aching.
“Let go,” he urges me, as my pelvis arches against his hand.
“Inside me,” I beg. “I need you inside me.”
“Not now, baby. Later,” he tells me and I pray it’s a promise he’ll keep.
He circles and circles the hard nub of my sex, dipping down to caress the tender folds just before I’m about to come. It’s like he’s teasing me, prolonging the orgasm till I split into two. “No, no,” I beg him as his finger moves away again, at that moment when my climax is just within reach.
“Don’t rush it. Enjoy it.”
Enjoy it? I’m dying inside, a heady, agonizing, completely thrilling death. His other hand massages me, moving from one breast to the other as my hips continue to press forward, aching for a firmer touch.
“Please, Logan. Please,” I don’t even realize I’m shouting till I hear a slight echo of my voice against the tiled walls.
“Now, baby,” he says, bringing his finger back up to my clit, and squeezing it gently as he circles it. I cry out, loud, the air expelling from my lungs, my body vibrating, encircled in his hold. I thrust against his palm, throwing my head back against his shoulder and pressing my chest toward his other hand. I pulse against him, throbbing like a heartbeat, over and over till the waves finally slow and I’m able to breath again.
No, this is nothing like anything I’ve ever experienced in my life.
And I might die without it.
- LOGAN -
I walk back down the stairs to the living room and gaze at the mass of fur slumbering on my couch. Kosmo is out like a light, the pain killers obviously doing the trick. Standing in the middle of the room, I gaze up the staircase to where I left Allie to get dressed.
It hadn’t felt right leaving her side, but I really did want to check on Kosmo. And catch my breath. I really need to catch my breath.
I sit down beside Kosmo and lightly touch his fur. I don’t want to wake him, but somehow I need a little reassurance.
I was her second lover? That terrifies me. Makes me feel like I should have listened to my instincts where she was concerned. Stayed away. Far, far away.
But it also makes me glad as hell that I didn’t sleep with her that night in the hotel. I saw tears in her eyes after we had sex. I can’t imagine how a one-night-stand would have torn her apart.
I rise from the sofa and head to the kitchen, seeing the photograph of Torres’s son on the counter. It doesn’t cripple me now like it did before. The shock of looking at him, seeing his dad’s eyes staring back at me, had dragged out the demons in my soul.
And unleashed them on Allie. Oh, God, what have I done?
Fuck that. What’s done is done. But what do I do now?
I hear the stairs creak behind me, and when I look at her, it’s like all the answers come flooding to my senses. I’ve never considered myself an overly emotional guy. But somehow when I’m with her, I feel warmth in a part of me I had thought was long dead.
I love my family, and they held in their grasp the small part of my heart that still insisted on beating in my chest. The rest I thought was necrotic—dead tissue that would never be resuscitated.
As Allie moves closer to me, that’s the part of me that comes alive.
She glances down at the photo that I must have picked up at some point. I don’t recall.
“He’s a handsome kid,” she says.
I nod.
“Have you ever met him?”
I
nod again, and take a few moments before I answer. “A couple times. I visited him with my SEAL brothers from the Team shortly after we returned from the mission. And we were at the funeral.” I shake my head slowly, remembering. “You’ve never seen anything till you’ve seen a military funeral when it involves kids, Allie. It brings pain to a whole new level. His son, Lucas, was fifteen when it happened, young enough to not really be consoled by that flag we drape on a casket as though that’s supposed to take away some of the pain.”
“It doesn’t?” Her question doesn’t seem like a question. More like something she’s just saying to keep me talking.
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Did Crosby have kids?”
I shake my head. “Single. His parents and sister were at the funeral and a legion of family.” I crack a smile. “Funny, meeting all of them after I’ve listened to Crosby talking shit about them for two years. I wished I could have told him that he was right—his Aunt Lois really does smell like mothballs and his Uncle Lou has interminable gas.” I laugh, and it somehow eases the pain to bring up a good memory.
I slip the photo and the card back into the envelope. “My SEAL brothers and I promised ourselves we’d keep tabs on Torres’s kid as time went on. I’ve failed at that.”
Even though I’m not looking at her, I can feel her eyes on me.
She takes my hand. “Is that why you’ve stayed away?”
“Hmm?”
“From San Diego. You said yourself that your family is doing well without you. So why did you decide to stay here if you still call San Diego home?”
My eyes meet hers and I realize I can’t hold anything from her. She seems to have found the pathway to all my secrets, to my very soul, if I have one. “Yeah. I’m a coward.”
“You’re not a coward.”
“Hell, yeah, I am. A band of terrorists could burst through that door and my heart rate wouldn’t even speed up, but I can’t find the balls to just look at this kid in the eyes knowing what my choice cost him and his mom.” I pause, pressing my palms to the cool granite. “I send checks on the holidays and birthdays, though, if that counts for anything.”
She smiles. “It probably counts for a lot.” She takes the announcement from me. “Was that your last mission with the SEALs?”
“Second to last. My last one got me the Silver Star.” There’s bitterness in my tone and I don’t hide it. “Torres should have gotten that. He should have been with us.” I shake my head, freeing myself from the clutches of memory, and stalk toward the fridge. “Are you hungry? I’d like to think I made you work up an appetite.”
She shakes her head. “I really should check on my dogs next door. Cass dog-sat last night, but I’m not sure what time she left for work this morning.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
We step into the sunshine and I realize I don’t even know what time it is. I didn’t think to put my watch back on after the bath. I feel a rumbling in my stomach that tells me it’s past lunch, though it could be later than that.
Slipping her key into her lock, she turns to me. “You don’t have to… stick around, you know. I’m sure you have work to do.”
“I don’t have anything more important than you right now.”
Her eyes sparkle at my remark and I see her shoulders lift and fall in a sigh. I know she’s feeling uneasy about this, and it’s the last thing I want. I don’t know where this is going, but I can’t ignore that everything has changed between us.
“My family is having their usual Sunday dinner next week. Want to come?” I don’t want her to think that this was a one-time-thing, and it’s the best way I can think of to show her.
“Oh, that’s not necessary.”
“I know it’s not necessary, but I’d like it if you came. You already know Ryan, and Hannah would love to see you again.”
“Okay, thanks,” she answers. There’s a light pink hue to her cheeks as she turns the knob and we step inside.
And we see her two friends sitting on her futon drinking coffee, both with meaningful looks in their eyes.
“Helloooo,” Cass croons.
“Cass,” Allie gasps. “I thought you’d be at work by now.”
She shrugs. “I called in sick. I don’t get a chance to hang out in luxury without a drunken roommate passed out on my couch very often. Thought I’d enjoy it while it lasted. Kim swung by on her way to pick up Connor from pre-K.”
Kim’s eyes are like daggers on me. She hates me, I can tell. I could sense it if I were twenty miles away from her. “Hey,” she greets us, her voice an octave lower than it usually is.
“I didn’t see your cars,” Allie says.
“We parked along the side in case Logan was still working on the pavers and needed the space.” A grin sweeps across her face as she looks at me. “But I guess you’re probably too tired for that now, huh?” Cass snorts as she raises her coffee cup to her mouth darting her eyes from Allie to me to Allie and back to me again.
Shit. I really need to put more insulation in these walls or something.
“Oh, no,” I hear Allie murmur next to me.
“Yeah. Funny. It was a peaceful morning till the neighbors started up. All that screaming.” Shaking her head, Cass raises her eyebrows at that last word, focusing her gaze on Allie.
Allie’s shoulders slump forward and she looks at me, mortified. I can’t help laughing. There’s not much that embarrasses me, and if these women think I can make Allie scream like that, then that’s nothing for me to be ashamed of.
Allie sputters, “You didn’t—”
“Hear the show? Oh, yes, every minute of it. And Kim here showed up in time for the second act.”
Cass cracks me up with her directness. I like Allie’s friends. Even Kim, because there is something to be said for a woman who can stare down a former Navy SEAL like she is now.
“I need some coffee,” Allie mutters, suddenly eyeing the coffeemaker in the kitchen. She looks at me. “You want some?”
“No, I’ll just head back to my place and keep an eye on Kosmo. Dinner tonight?”
She brightens at the suggestion. “’Kay.”
I lean in and kiss her chastely. I think Cass would love to see a show from me right now, but Kim looks like she’s going to pull out a .357 Magnum and blow me into the next life.
I watch Allie walk toward the kitchen and give a nod to her friends. “Ladies.” I turn my back and hear someone rise from the futon.
Kim opens the door for me and her eyes meet mine, dark and fiery. “If you hurt her, I will dismember you.”
I try not to crack a smile, because the threat just seems out of character from a woman who looks like your stereotypical carpool mom. But she seems dead serious.
Still waters run deep.
“Understood,” I acknowledge, giving her a nod.
Chapter 16
~ ALLIE ~
Beep-Beep. Beep-Beep.
One eye flings open and then the other.
I haven’t needed my alarm to wake up since I bought it, so I’m surprised to hear what it sounds like. The high-pitched beeping is annoying, but effective, considering I’m reaching toward my clock now to turn it off even though every muscle in my body is begging to stay completely still.
This must be the way triathletes feel the morning after a competition, even though the only exercise I did was in bed with Logan.
My entire body breaks out in a blush at the recollection. I’ve never been so thoroughly and completely seduced by a man in my life, and I’m definitely liking the sensation. My vibrator will be collecting dust if this continues.
I figured it would be smart to sleep away from him tonight. I have a conference call with Nancy this morning and she’s in… shit, I have no idea where she is. Besides that, Logan’s plumbers are going to show up at the crack of dawn to finish the plumbing in #4. I don’t want to tiptoe out of Logan’s in his borrowed t-shirt a
nd have them get the wrong idea. No, wait. I guess they’d get the right idea, but it’s not one I want to share.
I slip on my yoga pants and the bunny slippers Kim got me for my birthday and step to the closet. It’s a walk-in closet and my scant wardrobe looks a little lonely in it. If I were staying, I might consider buying more clothes just to fill it up.
But I’m not staying. And this little fling I’m having with Logan is just a fantasy that I’ll wake up from eventually. That kills me because there’s no denying I’m falling for the guy. Completely, utterly falling into a four-letter word that I don’t dare say out loud.
I slip on a blue washable silk shirt that has seen one too many gentle cycles but looks okay through the small camera of my iPhone. It’s incongruous with my yoga pants, but it’s my usual mismatched conference call wardrobe. Business on top, bedtime on the bottom.
After letting the dogs out, I pour my coffee, noticing the plumbing trucks out front through the window. I squint my eyes to see if Logan is walking around outside with them. I’m hungry for the sight of him, and it’s only been eight hours since I left his townhome in the dark of night. My heart does a little flip when I catch a glimpse of him climbing into his truck. I don’t know where he’s headed, but I’m wishing I was with him.
I lean against the counter, recalling our weekend together, each memory making me feel more vulnerable. We drove around the countryside with the top down, and even ventured into Dayton to pick up a couple pounds of Esther Price. (Because if I’m going to watch my waistline expand, I’ll do it eating the sea salt caramels that I’m certain are paving the streets of heaven.) And at night, he had me wrapped up in so many positions, I was certain I’d end up in the ER. But there must be some special hormone excreted during sex that makes the body a lot more bendable.
We walked around town and he told me all of his stories of growing up here. So many of the memories he has here remind me of the stories my dad used to share with me.