by Sierra Rose
And it was all right here.
He pushed open the door and strode briskly into the freezing house, tilting some food in the bowl for Spartacus while he perched on the kitchen counter—lost in thought.
I could always dissolve the company...
There was a moment of silence, before the devil on his shoulder fired back in a rage.
The company you gave your life to build?! The company that means the world to you?!
Logan sat there, biting his lip, as that devil continued full force.
For a girl you’ve known a few days?! A girl who doesn’t even know your real name?! A girl who’s going to run for the hills the second she finds out the truth?!
She hasn’t run from anything else. Who knows...I might be able to explain.
You’re assuming, of course, that Dylan is willing to just give you his life.
No—I’m not. I’d buy myself a house here. Find a hobby. Finally get to branch out and explore things that aren’t exclusively related to the business.
That’s great, Logan. Maybe you could take up yoga in the park. Buy a turtle. Make a scrapbook dedicated to the girl who’s going to leave you in less than two weeks.
She’s not just going to leave—
You’re right. She’s going to slap you first. How does it feel to walk in Dylan’s footsteps?
He bowed his head with a quiet sigh. Not even flinching when a giant pink tongue came out of nowhere to cheer him up. Hardly noticing when he started scratching Spartacus absent-mindedly behind the ears. The two locked eyes, and Logan flashed a sad smile.
“What do you say, buddy? You want to go for a walk?”
The dog’s ears perked up at the very word, and Logan hopped off the counter in search of the leash. After checking the traditional drawers and key rings, he opened a closet in the hall.
Bingo.
The leash fell onto the ground in front of him, along with a huge stack of envelopes that had been messily shoved inside. Logan bent over automatically to put them back, when a picture on the ground beside them caught his eye. He picked it up carefully, then gazed down with an affectionate smile.
It was Dylan. At about six years old. He was wearing a baseball uniform and smiling widely at the camera. Wide enough that Logan could see he was missing three of his teeth.
His eyes flickered down to the giant box the picture had fallen out of, but a wave of guilt froze him in his tracks. It’s not technically snooping if he’s family, right? He’s my brother and I know nothing about him. Plus, I know he’s snooping over at my house...
Before he could talk himself out of it, he sat down on the ground—setting the leash aside and pulling the box into his lap. Sure enough, there were about a hundred more pictures stuffed inside. Pictures of Dylan at all stages of life—but mostly when he was young. The years that Logan should have been with him. The years he had missed.
He flipped through with a nostalgic smile, realizing, for the first time, that it was possible to miss someone he never even knew. He saw Dylan at sports events and out on fishing trips with a man who was clearly his adoptive father. Junior high graduations and football games in which he always seemed to be in the process of tackling someone to the ground. From birthday parties to the high school prom (to which Dylan naturally took two dates), it was all in there. There was even one or two of Spartacus as a puppy.
But photographs weren’t the only things Logan found in the box.
“You’ve got to be kidding me...”
His eyes widened as he pulled out a crumpled diploma tossed carelessly on the floor. It was a bachelor’s degree in structural engineering. From a little school called Princeton. A school that Logan had been a breath away from going to himself, before he’d settled on Stanford instead.
Why the hell is he doing hard labor with an Ivy League degree?
It was one of a million questions he wanted to ask him. Along with how a man pulling in a construction salary couldn’t afford to pay his bills. It was a steady job. Benefits. The works.
The electricity wasn’t the only one. Judging by the envelopes from utility companies and collection agencies alike, Dylan was in some dire straits. Not that the man seemed to care. He had taken all the correspondence and simply stuffed it into the nearest box.
What’s your plan, brother? What are you going to do?
There was a high-pitched whine, and Spartacus dropped his head onto Logan’s shoulder, nudging the leash forward with his paw. Logan chuckled and pushed to his feet—hastening to put everything back how it was, before snapping the leash onto the dog’s collar.
“Alright buddy—let’s go to the park.”
Chapter 25
It was a beautiful walk, and one that Logan did at a leisurely pace. It seemed no matter where he went in the city, a freshwater breeze would find him—dancing his wavy hair in little clouds around his face. At first, Spartacus was straining to go faster (Dylan must have had a habit of jogging him around) but Logan held firm, and before long, the two of them were strolling casually through the tall grass of a park just a few miles away from the house.
This. This is what I want. He looked around the sweeping lawns, coming to a stop in front of a literal bed of roses. The delicate fragrance washed over him, and he closed his eyes with a smile. I’ve worked hard to get to where I am. I’ve earned the right to be happy, haven’t I?
The distant sound of honking taxis permeated his secluded little bliss, and he glanced towards the skyscrapers downtown. Like flipping a switch, a wave of stress shuddered through his body, and he turned deliberately back towards the park.
He’d only been away a few days, and already, he was dreading going back to Florida.
I don’t even like Florida. Why the hell did I move there in the first place?
Another shudder ran through his body, before he glanced suddenly over his shoulder, looking at the skyscrapers in a brand-new light.
Maybe I could open up a resort over here...
The devil on his shoulder liked that idea very much. He liked it so much, that the two of them began plotting as Logan wound his way through the garden—pausing every now and then so that Spartacus could chase his tale and jump at birds.
Hours passed. Logan spent almost the entire day wandering around outside. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to it. The freedom of not having an agenda. The novelty of making spur of the moment decisions. Where to go, when to leave, what to do. It wasn’t written on a schedule somewhere, kept safe on Annalise’s desk. It was all up to him.
In the end, it was Spartacus who wanted to go back. Not long after the sun began to slip behind the trees, the giant dog lay down where he stood—right in the middle of the sidewalk. It was a spectacle which caused many a pedestrian to stop and laugh, as Logan tried to coax the massive hound back to his feet. When that failed, he picked him up and carried him the seventeen blocks home. (Not an easy task, considering the dog was over two hundred pounds.)
“There, you happy?” Logan deposited him on the living room couch, then headed to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. “I’ve lost absolutely all feeling in my arms.”
The dog sighed with contentment and buried his face in the pillows. Logan, on the other hand, was still finding himself restlessly unable to sit still. Like a fish who’d just been released into a larger pond, he physically couldn’t stop moving. You stop, you drown.
He paced for a while around the house, doing random household tasks. Lighting a fire, growing instantly alarmed by the size of the fire, putting the fire back out. He made himself a cup of hot chocolate and tried reading by the fire. He even went out to the yard with a flashlight to try a little late-night gardening. Nothing worked. Something was missing.
Or someone.
He hardly remembered putting on his shoes and jacket. Hardly remembered the walk across town. Hardly even knew where he was going, before he looked up from the sidewalk and found himself staring at Lacy’s front door.
It was here that he paused.
Unsure what to do next. Unsure whether it was okay that he’d even come. He was about to chicken out and leave, when he saw a light snap on in the living room. Through the gauzy curtains, he could just barely make out her silhouette. Just barely, but after only a few days, he’d still know that silhouette anywhere.
She was pacing, just like he was. Unable to stop moving. Unable to sit still. Every now and then, she’d glance down at her phone—like she was considering making a call. But every single time, she set it back down with a little sigh.
A sudden smile lit Logan’s eyes as he jogged briskly up the front steps and rang the bell. A second later, the door pulled open—flooding the porch with light.
“Dylan?” Lacy’s eyes widened in surprise as she stared out at him. “What are—”
“I wanted to see you,” he interrupted, his eyes glowing in the light of the moon. “Can I come in?”
She fell suddenly silent, looking him up and down. Her hand tightened nervously upon the doorframe, but in the end, she had as little say about it as Logan did himself. They were playing with forces bigger than themselves. Forces they couldn’t possibly comprehend.
In the end, she didn’t say anything.
She simply opened the door with a little smile, and let Logan come inside.
Chapter 26
There was only one light on in the house. A little lamp perched upon a table next to an old rocking chair. Lacy turned it off as Logan walked inside—blanketing them in darkness. A bright smile lit his face, but she couldn’t see. Their hands found each other, but that was all.
“I kept debating whether I should call,” she murmured. “Pacing around like a teenage idiot with my phone—”
“At least you didn’t walk over in the middle of the night.” Logan chuckled softly. “Who’s the teenage idiot now?”
Streams of moonlight poured in from the window. Catching little details. Illuminating little moments that otherwise might have been lost.
Logan stroked his fingers down the side of her cheek. Marveling again at that velvety smoothness. Catching his breath when she turned her face to kiss the inside of his palm. The air between them jumped up about a thousand degrees, as he pulled her gently closer.
They took their time, silently disrobing each other. Standing in the middle of the living room. Quiet as a whisper. A shiver ran across Logan’s shoulders, as she pulled off his shirt and trailed her fingers down his bare chest. A shiver that was instantly echoed by Lacy as he reached behind her neck and pulled loose the bow holding up her dress.
It fell to the floor between them. Landing quietly upon the floor.
She reached for him again, but at this point, Logan suddenly stopped. He remembered her three questions from before. He knew exactly how frightened she was of getting hurt.
“I don’t want you to think...” He trailed off, hands shaking as they tilted up her face up to his. “I’m not doing this because—”
“I know why you’re doing it,” she interrupted softly, pressing a finger over his lips. “And I know why I’m doing it too.”
Just like that, the most cautious people in the world threw caution right out the window...
Logan attacked her—unable to stay away for even another second. As her fingers scrambled frantically against the buckle on his belt, he lifted her off her feet and carried her down the hall—aiming for what he hoped was a bedroom. It wasn’t the easiest journey (Lacy was as messy as Dylan), and there were many close calls followed by bursts of muffled laughter as they tripped and stumbled across the hard wood floor. It wasn’t until they’d almost reached the room at the end, that Lacy detached herself from his lips long enough to look around.
“Where are we going?”
Logan made his way slowly down her neck, speaking between kisses.
“To find a bed.”
She giggled and pulled back.
“That’s the garage, genius. Not a bedroom.”
He whirled around, and cursed under his breath.
“Well where is...doesn’t matter. There’s no time.”
Without a word of warning, he dropped her where she stood—pressing her up against the wall as he dropped his pants behind her. Her breath caught in her chest, as he parted her legs with his own, positioning himself behind her.
For just a split second he paused. Just a split second to gaze breathlessly at the beautiful, naked woman standing in front of him. Then he grabbed her hips and pushed his way inside.
She let out a gasp, as he pressed his forehead against her shoulder—closing his eyes with the sweet relief of finally, finally getting what he wanted. Finally fulfilling the fantasy that had been racing around in his head from the moment he woke up on the floor of Dylan’s house and her lovely face drifted into view. She was warm, and wet, and ready. Just as ready as him.
The muscles in his stomach contracted as he thrust into her. Faster and harder. Losing his grip on reality a little more with each one. His fingers wound through hers, stretching her arms above her head and pinning them to the wall—never missing a beat with his hips.
It was the dance they never got to finish back at the club. The one the two of them had been secretly pining for ever since.
Another gasp ripped through her, and she dropped her head back on his shoulder. He took full advantage to attack her with kisses once again—his lips finding the soft skin at the base of her jaw. Her pulse was racing, just as wild as his, and without stopping to think, he abandoned caution once more and sank his teeth into her shoulder.
She jerked in surprise, then burst out laughing as she tried desperately to escape. “That’s not...not fair,” she panted, trying frantically to catch her breath. “You can’t...”
“I owe you,” he whispered wickedly in her ear. “For the shower.”
“What?! No—”
Before she could finish, he stepped away and hooked his ankle around hers—tripping her back into his arms. She was still trying to get her bearings, when he lowered her gently to the ground—holding her body prisoner beneath his.
“So you thought that was really funny, did you?” he teased, trailing a slow line of kisses from her throat to her stomach. “Playing your little game?”
Her back tried to arch, but he held her flat. Kissing first one hip, then the other. He could feel the heat rising off her skin. Feel that same desperate wanting he felt himself.
“Maybe...” She was clearly in no position to be fighting back, but Lacy had never been one to give up so easily. She propped herself up on her elbows so that she could see him better, grinning with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “If you want me to apologize—”
“I don’t want you to apologize.” He grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her flat once more. “I want you to beg.”
Without a word of warning, his head disappeared between her legs.
The effect was instantaneous. She let out a cry as her back arched off the ground, her fingers clenching into tight little fists pressed against the floor. Every single muscle was tensed and at the ready. Every single inch of her was aching for more.
But Logan took his time.
When her hips rose up to meet him, he pressed them gently back down—kissing her all the while. When her fingers wound through his hair, he bit her again with a little grin.
The faster she tried to move, the slower he went. Agonizingly, deliciously, excruciatingly slowly. Until finally, she actually tried to squirm away.
“Enough,” she panted, pulling on his arms. “Get up here. Get inside me.”
“What?” he murmured, pressing a smile against her inner thigh. “I can’t hear you.”
Her head dropped back against the floor with a breathless laugh. “Please, alright? There, you got what you wanted.”
He trailed his tongue between her legs and she moaned aloud, unable to hold on for a second longer. “Tell you what, I’m going to ask you three questions—”
“You bastard!”
Her fingers yanked on his hair, and he straigh
tened up with a laugh—cupping his hands protectively behind her head as he pushed into her once again. This time, they were both so close to the edge that the sensation threatened to instantly overwhelm him. The laughter died away in a hurry, fading into the sound of frantic breathing as both of them swayed and ground their hips together—just trying to hold on.
Her nails raked down his shoulder blades as her ankles locked behind his back. But it wasn’t until she closed her eyes and breathed the words kiss me, that he was completely undone.
There was a soft cry, as he dropped his head into her shoulder. Caught in the aftershocks. Trying to catch his breath. A second later, she was right there with him—her body contracting around him, her skin flushed and shivering.
The rode it out together. Kissing all the while. Oblivious to the fact that they were naked and intertwined on the floor outside the garage. Peacefully content to stay there forever.
It wasn’t until another shiver ran across her skin, that Logan gazed down in concern.
“Are you cold?”
She smiled up at him, unable to tear her eyes away.
“A little.”
His eyes softened and he kissed the tip of her nose.
“You want to take a bath?”
She started nodding automatically, then stopped herself with a wry grin. “Just a bath, right? No interrogations? No consequences later on?”
He chuckled and swept her hair back from her face. “Not unless you want there to be.”
She bit down on her lip, honestly considering, before he scooped her up with another laugh—carrying her aimlessly down the hall.
If he was hoping for directions to the bath, he was sadly mistaken. The second she was airborne, Lacy completely lost sight of where they were going, and busied herself kissing him instead. Logan fought to keep his balance as she pressed her warm lips against his shoulder, his neck, the base of his throat (he had to stop a second for that one). It wasn’t until she twisted in his arms and pressed a kiss to the base of his stomach, that he threw a steadying hand to the wall.