Choices

by Federici, Teresa

  “It seems as though I have waited a lifetime for this, for you.” He whispered, then brought his mouth down to hers again. Abby reveled in his words, in the feel of him on top of her. Oh the glorious weight of him, bearing her down into the mattress. She brought her hands up to his back and pulled his shirt from his jeans, needing to feel her hands on his skin. She glided her fingers across the bare skin of his back, and he shivered, breaking away from her mouth to run his lips along her cheeks, her eyelids. He trailed them along her jawline and her neck, sending arrows of pleasure straight to her core.

  He leaned up, and looked down at her. “I’m only going to ask once. Are you sure?”

  “Logan, I wanted to tell you this before we made it this far.” She stopped when she saw disappointment, and hurt, in his eyes. He started to speak, but she pushed herself up and placed a finger on his mouth.

  “No, Logan, you don’t understand. I wanted to tell you that I’ve made up my mind, I know what I want to do. I’m staying in Montana. I wanted to tell you before we got this far so that you would be sure, so you wouldn’t feel guilty that you were messing with my head.”

  He stared at her until she started to feel uncomfortable, his eyes inscrutable.

  “Logan?”

  “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.” He breathed. Abby laughed and pulled him down to her.

  “Make love to me Logan. I need to feel you inside me.”

  “With pleasure ma’am.” He groaned, and proceeded to.

  He reached down and pulled her shirt up over her head, his head coming down to run his mouth along the ridge of her collarbone, his hands gliding around to her back to release her bra. That followed her shirt to the floor, and then he was cupping her breasts in his large hands, their texture rough on her sensitive flesh. He brought his mouth to first one nipple, then the other, laving them with his tongue and Abby felt the sharp stabs of desire all the way down to her toes. She arched into him, giving him access to all of her, and he reached down and flipped the button of her jeans with one flick. She was pulling at his shirt, wanting to feel skin on skin, her hands racing along his back, and when she got it over his head, he crushed her to him, basking in the feel of her soft flesh against his. “God, Abby, I want you so much. I don’t think I can hold out much longer.” He laughed shakily. He felt as though he were coming apart. Her only answer was to reach down and unfasten his jeans, pushing them down his hips. He rolled away and tugged off his boots and socks, Abby sitting up to watch him. He swung off the bed and ripped off his jeans and underwear. She stared at him; he was perfect. His chest was firmly muscled and lightly dusted with black hair, and then there was the thin trail running to his groin, where his arousal was very evident. She came up on her knees in front of him, and it was her turn to run her lips along his chest, nipping at one bronze nipple, while her hands ran down to his flat stomach. He sucked in his breath, his breath hissing through his teeth, and he grabbed her hand as it dipped lower. “Don’t”, he hissed, and pushed her back on the bed. He reached down and pulled her jeans away and this time he looked his fill. Her breasts were high and firm, with rosy nipples, and her skin was pure silk. Her stomach was flat and well-muscled; she must spend a lot of hours working her abs, he thought crazily. Her hips flared enticingly, cradling a thatch of russet hair he couldn’t wait to bury himself in. He didn’t wait any longer, couldn’t wait any longer.

  He came back down on top of her and lifted her legs high on his back and plunged into her. Abby screamed with the feel of it, a pleasure so intense she was sure she would die from it. Logan stilled for a moment, feeling her muscles squeeze him tight, then couldn’t hold back any longer. He moved inside her, his hands lifting her hips, and Abby arched against him, trying to bring him deeper. He felt so good inside her, and she had never felt a reaction this strong before. They moved together, frenzied, as if they couldn’t get enough, and when Logan felt her muscles start to contract, he gave up all control and buried himself so deeply he felt her heartbeat. Abby cried out with the power of her climax, drawing in great, gasping breaths. Logan jerked, once, twice, then let out a groan as he reached his own climax, then lay spent on top of her, his head resting next to hers on the bed. He gathered her in his arms, and with the last of his strength he rolled, until they lay on their sides, still joined.

  When he opened his eyes, he looked down at her, and noticed the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Did I hurt you?” he whispered, wiping away a tear with a knuckle. Abby smiled up at him, and sighed. “No, you didn’t hurt me. I’ve never cried before. I’ve never felt that way before, either.”

  “You’ve never had an orgasm before?” he asked, his eyes wide.

  Abby ducked her head, shy for some reason.

  “I thought I had. I’ve never made love to anyone but Steve, but I’ve never felt anything that came close to this.” She said into his chest, her face burning. Logan grinned, and gave her hair a tug so she would look up at him. She raised her face to his, a faint blush staining her cheeks. He was still grinning like a fool, amazed at the power of her response, grateful that he could give her that.

  “Don’t laugh at me. I know I’m a 31 year old woman who should know whether or not if I had an orgasm before, which I have, it just wasn’t like that.” she finished lamely. He wiped the grin off his face and touched his lips tenderly to her temple. “Thank you then, for that gift.”

  “No, thank you for making me feel that way.”

  He felt humbled, that she should feel that way. He hadn’t even taken his time with her like he had wanted to, and still she could say that.

  They lay together quietly, listening to the sound of their heartbeats slowing, sharing gentle kisses. Abby felt replete, languid, as though she didn’t have a bone in her body. She was happier than she had been in a long time, and didn’t want to move if it meant going back in the world. She wished she and Logan could just hide away, never have to face trying times, just enjoy each other.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked, running a finger up his spine. He shivered at her touch, and nodded. She disentangled herself from his arms and swung her legs over the side of the bed, hoping her shaking legs would hold her. When she didn’t fall flat on her face, she took it as a good sign, and went into the bathroom to put on her robe. Logan came up on one elbow to watch her walk to the bathroom, tracing the curve of her hips and her shapely legs with his eyes. Her hair fell in tangled disarray down her back, and he thought she had never looked sexier, all mussed up from his lovemaking.

  Abby came back out of the bathroom to find him watching her, his gray eyes still dark with desire. She stooped down and picked up his jeans and tossed them to where he still lay on the bed. He looked so long and lean laying there, it amazed her how well they had fit together.

  “Want to join me downstairs for supper?” she asked, coming over to the bed and leaning down to kiss him. He twined a hand through her hair and tried to pull her back down.

  “I’m hungry, but I’d love to have you back in bed.” He murmured, but she pulled back, a wicked glint in her eyes.

  “Did I ever tell you about the dream I had the first night I slept in this cabin?” she asked, stepping lightly away from him. He stood and pulled on his jeans, zipping them but leaving the button undone. He looked to where she stood in the doorway, her eyes alight with mischief.

  “No, what was it about?” he asked, stalking toward her.

  “You made love to me in front of the fire.” She shrieked laughter as he lunged toward her, eluding his grasp, and ran down the stairs.

  The steak was a little tough, and the mashed potatoes had to be reheated, but it was the best dinner either one of them had ever had. They ate at the table, legs entwined underneath.

  “Logan, what would you have done if I had told you I wasn’t sure?” Abby asked, pushing her plate away. She stood up from her chair and moved to straddle him in his chair. His effect on her was nothing short of miraculous. She had never been an initiator before, leav
ing that up to Steve. She had never before considered herself a sexual person, never felt a need to be with someone, even when she and Steve had begun dating, when most people couldn’t wait to get their hands on each other.

  Logan could barely breathe, let alone think about an answer to her question. She felt light as a feather in his lap, and he felt himself growing hard. If she moved, he would make love to her right here in this chair. He tried to answer her question.

  “I would like to say that I would have left, and respected your decision, but that wouldn’t be true.” He fixed his gaze on hers. “I would’ve done my damnedest to change your mind.”

  She looked at him thoughtfully, then smiled. “I think I would have enjoyed you changing my mind.” Then as if she could read his mind, she shifted, just barely, but enough to have him groaning. He reached down and unzipped his jeans, shifted them lower. She didn’t have to read his mind now, and she lifted herself high enough to bring the tip his arousal to her center, then slowly sunk down onto him. Her robe fell off her shoulder’s as she arched backwards, and he brought his mouth, hot and hungry, to the hollow at her throat. His hands held her hips, and she moved on top of him, sinuously, rocking back and forth.Logan shifted in the chair, brought his hands up to her breasts, and caressed them, his lips fastening onto a nipple and drawing it into his mouth. Abby gasped and moved faster, the sensations building in her quickly.

  Logan trailed a finger down the valley between her breasts, over her flat stomach, and down to where their bodies were joined, rubbing the sensitive nub of her arousal. Abby tensed, her thighs shaking, then screamed as wave after wave of pleasure ripped through her. Logan brought his hands back to her hips and lifted her, still joined, and carried her over to the rug in front of the fire place. He laid her back on pillows scattered there, stripped his jeans off again, and knelt between her legs. Abby moaned when he pulled out of her, and looked at him, wanting him back inside her. He came down over her, his arms braced on either side of her stomach, and lowered his mouth to her flat stomach, pressing feather light kisses to her heated flesh. He laved her navel, then moved lower, kissing her inner thighs. Abby felt the rough stubble of his cheek running the inside of her thighs, and had only enough time to react to that sensation, when his mouth closed over her. She exploded. Her head rocked from side to side as Logan delved into her heat with his tongue, nipping gently at her. Her back arched off the floor and her fingers dug into his shoulders, pulling at him.

  “Logan, please!” she gasped, and he obliged her, coming up onto his knees. He pulled her towards him and draped her legs on either side of his hips, and slid into her, silk against steel. He gave up control and just let sensation take over as he rocked into her, swiveling his hips. He felt her start to tense again, and plunged deeper, harder. Abby felt herself come apart, splintering into pieces and opened her eyes long enough to watch Logan throw back his head at his own release.

  Logan had died, he was sure of it. He was aware of nothing, only that she felt exquisite and he was fully prepared to die in her arms. He lay on top of her, not moving, knowing he was probably crushing her, but he couldn’t move.He moved enough to prop himself up on his elbows and look down at her. Her eyes were closed, a soft smile on her lips and tears again on her cheeks.. He kissed the tip of her nose, and pushed himself away, surprised he could do that much. She immediately rolled into his side, and his arms came around her, fitting her into his side.

  “If we keep this up, we’re going to kill each other.” He said, running a hand up and down her arm. She placed a hand on his chest, over his heart, and rubbed her palm against the hair there.

  “I thought I was already dead.” She replied, and yawned.

  “Me too, but it seems we’re still alive. Did I live up to your dream?” he teased, reaching to pull her on top of him. She placed her hands on top of his chest and rested her chin on them, looking at him. He had surpassed every dream she had ever had. He was undoubtedly the best looking man she had ever seen. He looked unbearably sexy in the firelight, the changing patterns of light outlining his high cheekbones, catching the deep gray of his eyes.

  “I’ve never dreamed of anything like this. My wildest imagination couldn’t have conjured up this night.”

  He pushed her hair back behind her ears, ran the tip of a finger along the outer edge of one ear.

  He gazed at her with all the love he felt for her in his eyes.

  “Mine either.”

  Chapter Seven

  Abby stretched her arms over her head, feeling completely content. The morning light filtered in to play on the sheets of the bed she and Logan had spent a long night in. Abby had heard the term “made love all night long”, but had never known it to be possible. They had maybe gotten three hours of sleep at the most. She spent almost an hour at dawn, watching him sleep, not wanting to go to sleep for fear it was all a dream.

  She rolled over, thinking to find him asleep next to her, but he was gone. She sat up, panicking briefly, until she saw his shirt and jacket still on the floor. She caught a whiff of coffee, and smiled. She scrambled out of bed as fast as her protesting muscles would allow, and threw on her robe.

  She walked downstairs to find him exactly as she had found him on another morning, but this time there would be no apologies. He was standing at the counter again, no shirt on, jeans zipped but not buttoned.

  He smiled when he saw her, and turned to get her a cup of coffee. She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek on his back.

  “Good morning” he said, laying his arms on top of hers. She smiled, and he felt it on his back.

  “Good morning to you.” she replied, “I could get used to seeing you down here in the kitchen, making coffee.”

  He turned around to face her. When he had woken up, he had watched her sleep for an hour, wanting to wake her up to the feel of his mouth on her skin, but they had gotten so little sleep, he left her alone to sleep some more. As the sun had come up, he had watched it play across her features, the sunlight catching the myriad colors in her hair spread over the pillow. Her skin had glowed with a pearly incandescence, making her seem like an angel that had fallen from heaven, just for him.

  She ignited so many emotions in him, emotions he had begun to think he didn’t possess. Not one woman who had come into his life made him feel as she did. He wanted to spend every waking moment with her and every night next to her in bed. He wanted to make her insanely happy and ease her pain. He wanted to protect her from whatever harshness the world could dish out.

  Abby gazed up into his eyes, wondering what he was thinking. She prayed he didn’t regret anything, for that would kill her.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked, running her fingers through the hair at his nape.

  “How absolutely beautiful you look.” He smiled down at her. Abby beamed, and she felt her toes curl. He leaned down and kissed her, slow and easy, a gentle play of sensations so different from the heated kisses of the night before. Abby felt that she had died and gone to heaven. He raised his head and kissed her forehead, then led her over to a chair and held it out for her. She sat down and grinned up at him.

  “I’m going to make you breakfast. I was going to serve you in bed, but you messed up those plans.” He said, moving to the refrigerator.

  “Oh, I could always run back upstairs and pretend to be asleep. I would hate to spoil your plans.” She laughed, amazed. This was new territory for her. First there was last night and early morning hours, where he had spent hours caressing her body, driving her to the edge over and over, not letting her reciprocate in kind. It was as if he had been worshipping her, wanting to be sure she found pleasure. And boy had she. She hated comparing him to Steve, because it was obvious that they were like night and day, but Steve was her only benchmark, and he was nothing like Logan. Steve only cared about his pleasure, and never spent any time on hers.

  Now this morning he wanted to make her breakfast, and if she hadn’t come downstairs, h
e would have brought it up to her. Was he for real?

  ‘So what’s for breakfast?” she asked, swiveling around in her chair to watch him. He was at the fridge, his back to her, and arm draped over the top of the open door. He had a beautiful back, with broad shoulders, well-muscled, tapering down to a slim waist.

  He reached into the fridge and brought out eggs, vegetables, and left- over steak.

  “An omelet. I was going to make eggs, bacon, and toast but you don’t have any bacon.” He moved over to the cutting board, and soon had green peppers, onions, and a tomato diced. He cut the steak into small cubes, then whisked the eggs in a bowl and soon had all the ingredients bubbling away on the stove in a skillet.

  Abby was content to watch him work, not feeling the need to fill the silence with words. She had never thought she could be this happy, especially when she had what was probably going to be a lot of questions on the horizon. She didn’t care how many questions were asked, or who was asking them, as long as Logan was with her. She couldn’t wait to introduce him to her parents, but she figured that would have to wait. She was officially divorced, but they were still officially old-fashioned, and would probably not approve of their daughter jumping into bed with a man two weeks after her divorce was final, no matter what they thought of Steve.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked as his flipped the omelet expertly in the pan.

  “For you? Always.” She replied, he voice soft. He glanced back at her and felt the urge to take her back upstairs and spend the rest of the day in bed. He smiled and winked, then turned back to the stove, sliding the omelet onto a plate. He got out and extra plate and brought them over to the table and went back for silverware and coffee cups and the coffee carafe. He sat down across from her so he could watch her, and cut the omelet in half, sliding her half onto her plate.