Shatter (St. Martin Family Saga)

by Watson, Gina

  Logan lapped at it with his tongue before scraping it lightly with his teeth. He was working her toward climax, but he wanted her to feel more, to feel everything. Even as she mewled and panted, he slid his middle finger deep into her channel, at first stroking and then pumping. She bowed on the table beneath him and cried his name as she came beneath his mouth and fingers.

  The woman was beautiful in her ecstasy. Logan straightened up so he could watch her face, and he slowly stroked her hips, gentling her as she returned to her senses, as she opened her eyes and met his, wonder in her gaze.

  Panting for air, she said, “My turn!”

  The rasp in her voice had his balls tightening. He was open for anything she wanted to try.

  She pushed up, and Logan helped her off the table and to her feet. She reached for the button on his shorts, using one hand to lift his arms away from his body. As she pushed the shorts down his thighs, her eyes went as wide as the sky. She gasped.

  “You don’t wear panties?”

  His dick jerked, and Jessie groaned. “I definitely don’t wear panties.”

  “Shirt,” she directed.

  He pulled his shirt over his head while Jessie led him by the cock, pushing him against the table. At her raised brow, he obliged her and hopped up. She smiled as she took in all of him. “It’s been years since I’ve had a man to play with, and never one so well endowed.”

  “What, you and Alan never got frisky?”

  “Alan doesn’t engage in premarital sex.”

  “How honorable.” Logan’s hands palmed her hair. “There’s absolutely nothing that could keep me from having you, including the pits of hell.”

  She stared unabashedly at his cock and at the drop of fluid that slid down the swollen head. Logan gripped his erection, and Jessie bent to lick the drop of come. He shuddered.

  “Suck me, baby.” Logan held himself steady as she swallowed his shaft with her soft, wet mouth and braced her hands on his hips. The satin sash from her robe rubbed his skin, heightening his arousal and he grew even larger.

  Her eyes closed as she savored him around a moan and took him deep into her mouth. He held the rest of his cock in his fist. As her tongue cradled the underside of his pulsing shaft and her teeth lightly grazed the top, Logan pumped the root.

  “I’m going to explode,” he said, the words low and snarled.

  She sucked him to the tip, and her lips moved over his head, squeezing as she leisurely drew her mouth from him. She licked her lips, slanted a dare through fuck-me eyes, and then opened her mouth. At the same time she squeezed her tits, making sure he could see what she was doing. With a roar he shot his load into her open mouth.

  She didn’t pull away as he caught his breath, simply licked her lips and grinned. His hand snaked up the back of her neck to palm her hair and with his other hand he found her damp curls and parted the flesh at her core.

  “God, you’re soaked. Did you enjoy doing that to me?” He hoped so, because he sure as hell did and wouldn’t mind a repeat at some time.

  She flushed a becoming pink, and her teethed worried her bottom lip as it slowly curved into another smile.

  “Did you?”

  She nodded.

  “Tell me, explicitly, what you enjoyed.”

  Her eyes, now a dark slate, met his, and she said, “I like it when you lose control.”

  Her lips continued moving, but no sound came out.

  “And? Say it.”

  “And I like when you shoot your warm come into my mouth.”

  That elicited a growl from Logan. Looking at her with her robe parted, he was getting hard again. The alabaster skin and copper hair that peeked from beneath begged to be touched, to be loved. She was a temptress in a garden, offering herself to be taken as he pleased. “Pleasuring you is worth eternal damnation.”

  He slid the robe back exposing more of her to his eyes and watched her tits darken with need. “You are so beautiful. I bet the men that come to the restaurant can’t keep their hands off of you.” He palmed her breast and whispered into her ear, “I’ve never fallen for a woman so fast before. You make me forget everything. My mind goes and all I am is the carnality that’s left behind. Do you feel it too?”

  Jessie’s hand cupped his neck, and her eyes slowly closed. “Yes. It’s dizzying.”

  “Have you ever felt this way before?”

  She answered breathily, “No.”

  “Where’s your bedroom? I want to lie you down, spread you out, and spend hours making love to you.”

  She indicated the way as he carried her. He slid her across the bed and settled between her legs. He kissed her mouth delicately and when her lips parted, in passion, he entered her with his tongue. Sensual and wet warmth overflowed his senses. As he explored her mouth, he positioned his cock at her pussy and lubricated it with her cream. He slid slowly into her one inch at a time, nuzzling her jaw and kissing down to her neck as he pressed home.

  When he was fully seated inside her, she pivoted her hips and he sank in another half inch. “God, you fit me so well. We were meant to be together.” He linked his hands to hers, palm to palm, and pressed them against the sheets just above her head.

  “Logan, please.”

  “What’s that, love? You need something?”

  Her hips rose from the bed in eagerness; her breath was hot and heavy. He fucked her deep and steady, and she met him thrust for thrust, so much in sync with him that it was hard to tell where the movement was coming from. They moved as one—efficient and complete. Their connection reached depths he’d not thought possible, and he knew this was different. She was different. She was no longer Jessica Hunter, she was his. And that changed everything.

  Her body tensed on a cry, and he felt her walls contract and pulse as pleasure coursed through her. Her muscles squeezed the entire length of him and he found his release within her and God she was so sweet, he found himself not wanting to sever their connection.

  He held his weight off her and brushed light, still shaking fingers over her lips and eyes. When she squirmed, he said, “I find it hard to believe something as beautiful as you convulsing around me could be wrong.” He bent to kiss her nose, and her eyes opened, dark and smoky.

  Her hand gently palmed his cheek. “I wanted to tell you something earlier but couldn’t figure out how.”

  “You don’t have to be so cautious, you can tell me anything.” He turned his lips into her hand and kissed her palm.

  “It’s just, I know it must seem like I’m some sex crazed woman, or worse, but I haven’t been with anyone other than Brandon. I mean, until we… we were in my office.”

  He smiled and said, “I know.”

  Her brow furrowed. “How could you know? I just told you.”

  “You seemed regretful immediately after and I heard you asking Brandon to forgive you.”

  Their gazes locked. She held his head in both her hands and said, “Hey, I don’t regret what we did. I just…” She bit down hard on her lip he thought to hold back what she was about to say.

  His head tilted as he regarded her. “You just what?”

  “Promise you won’t think I’m crazy?” She raised a brow and awaited his answer.

  “I promise.” He traced an imaginary cross with his fingers across his chest.

  “Well I talk to him. For five years, since he died, I talk to him. I imagine he’s all around me. That’s the only way I’ve been able to survive. But something strange happened since that day in my office.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t talk to him anymore, but instead of being sad I’m relieved. I feel like a burden has been lifted from my shoulders, like I’m free. Is that bad?”

  Her eyes were searching him. He needed to tread carefully. Of course it wasn’t bad. Five years is a long time and it was time for her to move on. He just needed to make sure she knew it was okay.

  He slid his arms behind her back to pull her in close. “Five years is a long time. Everybody gr
ieves in their own way and at their own pace. It’s time for you to let him go. He would want you to be happy. You’re still so young and beautiful. I know if it were me, I would want you to find someone who would appreciate how special you and Michael are and I would only find eternal peace once you found happiness here on earth.”

  She blinked several times and said, “I’m happy now.”

  He dropped a kiss to her lips. “And that’s why he’s gone on to where he’s supposed to be.”

  She cast her eyes down as she collected her thoughts. “Thank you, for listening.”

  He smiled. “Don’t thank me just promise me if you need to talk, you’ll let me know.”

  She nodded. “I will.”

  He wanted to know how Brandon died but didn’t know if it was a good time to ask so he inhaled deep and enjoyed her scent. “Mmm, I’ve worked up an appetite. But maybe it’s that delicious smell. What is it? It’s like apple cinnamon.”

  “I make pies.”

  “Homemade apple pies?”

  “That’s the only way to go.”

  Logan smirked at her. “You have an apple orchard out back?”

  “My father is a professor at the LSU AgCenter. He does research on different varieties of apples, seeing which can actually grow in Louisiana.” Jessie shrugged. “Their research produces a lot of apples.”

  “Apples. I didn’t know we could grow apples here.”

  “Yep, but some varieties don’t do well with pies—too mealy, too sweet, or too tart. I like to mix Braeburn and golden delicious. Braeburn cooks up and tastes like a pear, and the goldens cook up crisp and buttery.”

  He groaned. “Please tell me you’re not teasing me and actually do intend to feed me pie.”

  “Do you want it a la mode?”

  “It’s the only way to fly.”

  When he didn’t move, she pushed at his shoulder and he rolled off. She pulled on her robe and led him into the kitchen. He slid his shorts and shirt back on and took a seat at the table as she dished up the pie. “I only have apple blueberry left. Is that okay?”

  “Sounds great.” Logan watched her busy herself plating pie and scooping out vanilla ice cream balls.

  She brought two plates to the table.

  Logan took a bite. Between chews he said, “Oh wow, Jessie. Best pie ever, hands down.” He demolished his slice in five bites.

  Jessie took dainty bites. “It was Brandon’s favorite—apple blueberry.”

  A mixture of sincerity and pain marred her perfect face. Shit. Had she talked to anyone after he died?

  He cleared his throat. “Do you mind my asking how he died?”

  Jessie focused her eyes on her plate. “I killed him.”

  Logan’s body tensed immediately at Jessie’s words. The raw torment she was still dealing with five years later cut him to the quick.

  “Jessie, that’s not true.” His voice was raspy.

  She looked into his eyes. “I guess I didn’t brutally murder him, but he died by my hands.” She gasped, and tears tracked down her face.

  Logan pulled her onto his lap, tucking her under his chin and rocking her. “Things happen that nobody can understand. Horrible things. You can search and search for the answers and never find them.” Logan knew that pain all too well. “In your case Brandon left you with a little part of him, and I know it doesn’t change the hurt, but you have to let go of that guilt. You’ve got Michael to raise.”

  She sat quietly in his lap for several minutes. She pressed even tighter against him when she said, “We were driving back from our honeymoon. I was already a couple months pregnant with Michael. We didn’t have enough money to take our honeymoon trip after the wedding, so we were happy to have finally gotten away. We went to Orlando. Brandon loved thrill rides—roller coasters.”

  Logan tried to catch her eyes, but Jessie closed them tight and grimaced. “I hit some discarded tire tread on the interstate. I was going too fast, almost eighty, and the car spun around and around. We didn’t hit anyone. The car scraped the cement barricade, but no cars were involved, and when we stopped near the shoulder, we were facing oncoming traffic. People stopped and came up to the car. I was shaking and someone pulled me out. Brandon’s door wouldn’t open since he was pinned in next to the guardrail. As he climbed over to the driver’s seat so he could get out, a loaded semi barreled down on us from the overpass. He laid on his horn, blasting away, and a man pulled me away from our car and told me to run.”

  Jessie swallowed hard and whispered, “It was too late for Brandon. He died instantly.”

  Large tears escaped Jessie’s eyes, and Logan rocked her while she cried and trembled in his arms.

  “Michael is too young to understand what happened to his father but one day when he’s older, I plan on telling him.”

  He felt her diaphragm quiver, forcing her to take a ragged breath.

  “I’ll have to tell him I killed his father. Every day I live with the thought that he’ll never forgive me.”

  Logan pulled her tight to his chest, and Jessie snuggled in under his neck.

  “The first time we were together in my office, I felt guilty, like I was cheating on Brandon.” Her body relaxed against his. “But it was so wonderful. I don’t want you to feel bad. I don’t want to feel bad either.

  Logan had sensed that Jessie might be sacrificing her needs to do what she thought was right by her child, maybe even assuage her own guilt a little, and he thought that was why she’d put up with Alan. He shifted her so she had to look up, and he didn’t let her look away from his eyes.

  “If you’re not happy, Michael will sense that and he’ll be anxious and unhappy. I never knew Brandon, but I’ve got to think he would want you to live a long, full, and happy life. You’ve spent five years grieving and mourning his death, and now it’s time to celebrate his life, the life that lives on in Michael. Life is for the living. Don’t waste it, Jessie.”

  Jessie choked off her sob and inhaled sharply.

  Logan held her close, hoping she’d listen. Hoping she’d be smarter than he’d been.

  5

  On Saturday, Logan arrived at Jessie’s just before ten a.m. Before he could ring the bell, Michael opened the door and yelled, “Logan!”

  Michael ran out onto the attached porch and hugged Logan’s legs. Logan reached down and lifted Michael into his arms.

  “Hey, little buddy.”

  Jessie watched, bewildered, as Logan appeared to sniff Michael. Then his lips spread into a wide smile.

  “You smell like apple cinnamon too, just like your mommy.” Logan pointed at something slimy on Michael’s shirt. “What’s all over you?”

  “Mommy made a pie.”

  “Mmm, pie monster gonna get you.” Logan lowered his head and playfully bit at Michael’s shirt. Michael squealed.

  Jessie smiled from the doorway, appreciating his silky lips and the prominent cut of his ever so edible jawline. God, she wished she could walk up to him and start nibbling on that. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. He presented her with a large white smile that skewed slightly to the right. To her mind that gave him an even sexier smile than if it were proportioned perfectly. He was wearing his standard cargo shorts, flips, and T-shirt, this one promoting the White Stripes. He wore aviator sunglasses, and she wondered if he was wearing underwear. The thought of him being readily accessible had her lower body in a flutter of activity.

  She’d been thinking a lot about what Logan had said earlier in the week. Life was for the living. His words had gotten through to her—she needed to move on for Michael and for her own sake. And for Brandon’s. He would never have wanted her unhappy. She covered her mouth when a laugh escaped. Brandon would actually have chewed her out for shutting herself off for so long. How could she have forgotten his intolerance for such things? The man had been all about living and enjoying and celebrating. He wouldn’t have wanted her to hide away, not even for him. Especially not for him. His death had been painful, yes, but it was pas
t time to return to life.

  Jessie turned her attention back to the man on her porch. She wondered if he’d experienced the pain he spoke so knowingly about. She’d wondered the same thing several times since he’d left her bed. Everyone knew loss. She wondered if she’d discover details about the loss that had given him insights into grief.

  She watched as Michael poured out his affection on Logan and prayed that the man she was allowing to enter their lives wouldn’t break both their hearts.

  Logan offered to drive them and Michael thought it was a huge thrill to ride in his big truck. At the park Logan climbed up the play structure with Michael. Jessie wasn’t a big fan of heights, so she opted to watch from the ground. The guys jabbed at each other with sticks they’d picked up from under the surrounding pines.

  Michael raised his stick. “Arr, Cap’n says it’s time for ya to walk the plank, Matey.”

  Logan lunged forward, his own stick raised. “Scallywag, you seems like a right able-bodied sailor. Tell ya what, ya lets me goes an’ I won’t have ta swab the deck wit ya.”

  Michael thrust his sword at Logan. “To the plank wi’ this scurrrvy dog landlubber.”

  Jessie giggled to herself. Apparently all boys picked up pirate talk somewhere along the way.

  After they played for about an hour, she laid out the apple pie and water she brought as a snack and motioned them over. Logan jogged Michael to the table on his shoulders.

  “Yum, apple pie. So, Michael, how many pie slices do you eat per day?”

  “Bunches,” he said around a mouthful of pie. Jessie and Logan laughed.

  Two girls from Michael’s school approached the table and asked if he could play with them.

  Michael turned to Jessie. “Can I, Mommy?”

  She kissed his head and said, “Don’t go anywhere I won’t be able to see you.” Michael raced to catch up with the girls, and Jessie waved at the women she guessed were the girls’ mothers.