“If you’re the real thing, the woman who can keep Logan here where he belongs, taking over the ranch, then I’ll support you in the custody battle. But if you’re playing on my son’s weaknesses, then I’ll make sure you lose custody.”
Becky sucked in a breath at both the threat and the word “weaknesses.” Did Brian know about Logan’s PTSD and his struggles? “What weaknesses?”
“He’s always been soft, that boy. His mother tried to ruin him.” Brian shook his head.
She had the fierce urge to defend her husband. “Logan’s strong and knows his own mind.”
“Strong is being a man and doing your duty. Not chasing a child’s dream and running a camp for men who can’t deal with life. He wants to have that as a charity, fine, we can spin it to make it look good. But he needs to take up his birthright of this ranch.” He stared hard at Becky. “Your job is to make that happen.”
And if she didn’t? Fear congealed in her stomach. Sophie looked perfectly safe in his arms atop the horse. Her little girl was so busy watching Logan and Abby team roping the calf, she didn’t care who held her. “Are you saying if I don’t, you won’t help fight for Sophie?”
“I’m saying this ranch and the Knight name come first.”
…
Becky laid Sophie back in her crib. She usually didn’t wake up to eat at two a.m. anymore. Her pediatrician had said that was a sign she was ready for a little baby cereal.
Stretching her back, she headed for the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. In the hallway, she frowned at Logan’s opened door. She glanced in his room. The covers were thrashed and he wasn’t there.
Heaviness settled in her chest at the evidence of his nightmare. This time, she wouldn’t leave him alone to suffer. She was his wife and she would damn well take care of him. Hooking the quilt with her fingers, she jerked it off the bed and went in search of her husband. Stepping out on the cold front porch, she called softly, “Logan?”
“Right here. Sophie okay?”
Wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, she walked across the deck. At least there was more moonlight tonight then the last time she’d discovered him out here. “You heard her cry? Did she wake you?” He wore only his black pajama bottoms. His eyes were smudged with fatigue and something much darker. Memories?
“Her cries rescued me from my nightmare. And you…” He closed his eyes and his hands fisted on the arms of the chair. “Go inside. Close your door. Tell me to stay out.”
So much raw need crackled in his voice, her skin tingled. He held himself back, separate and alone. The air between them vibrated with a magnetic force tugging them close.
For a week they’d both resisted.
No more. She let the blanket slide off. Pressing her hands on his shoulders, she said softly, “No. I don’t want you to stay out. I want you buried so deep inside me, I’ll carry the memory of you and our time together until my last breath.” Saying the truth and accepting it freed her. She wanted Logan with no conditions, no lines. That wasn’t bad, it was real and honest. They weren’t making promises.
They were making memories.
She wanted them. She might never find this again, a man who saw her like he did.
His nostrils flared, his arms bulged. Then something snapped and Logan surged up out of the chair.
Becky stumbled back, tangling in the blanket.
His hands closed around her waist, catching her. “I won’t let you fall.” Leaving one hand on her, he scooped the blanket off the ground, swung it around her shoulders, and pulled her to his mouth. “Open, sugar.”
She tilted her face up and kissed him. God, he tasted good, like a rich wine sliding over her tongue and creating hunger for more. Decadent and enticing, she chased his tongue, catching and sucking until he groaned.
Logan shifted, pulling back enough to lightly sink his teeth in her bottom lip, then licking the slight sting, creating tingles down her throat. Her breasts grew heavy, her nipples sensitive against his chest.
She ran her palms down his sides, desperate to memorize his powerful body. Loving the feel of his muscles bunching and shifting beneath her touch, she couldn’t get enough of him.
He pressed his erection against her belly. Breaking the kiss, he buried his face in her hair. “Becky, I want you.”
She dragged her hands around to caress his warm skin, then over the waistband of his cotton pants. His muscles twitched, showing her how much power a small touch had over this huge man. “You have me.”
Cupping her face, his eyes burned into hers. “I don’t have a condom out here, but I can make you come. No one is here. It’s just us under the moonlight. Will you let me do that?”
“No.”
He went completely still. It was long seconds before he said, “Not outside?”
“It’s my turn. I want to see you in the moonlight.” Dipping her thumbs into his pants, she kissed his jaw, his stubble rough on her lips. She loved the feeling of Logan like this—raw and real. Unable to resist, she licked the sexy dip between his throat and shoulder.
Logan shivered, his fingers digging into her hair and sliding over her scalp. “Take what you want.”
She tracked down the path of his muscles, finding every groove. Lifting her head, she said, “I’ve wanted to do this since that first night when you came out of the shower and posed. You had these tiny beads of water sliding down and disappearing beneath the towel.” She tugged his pants down an inch. Then stopped.
“Where did you see the water go?” Desire thickened his voice.
“Here.” She flicked her tongue around a nipple, then licked the tip.
His hand tightened in her hair, creating a sensual sting on her scalp. “And?”
“Down here.” After dragging her tongue over his ribs, she added, “And then all these ridges here.” Becky crouched lower, her thighs protesting after all her time spent in the saddle today. She didn’t care, her entire focus was on Logan. The way his muscles clenched at the touch of her mouth, his breath hissing when she licked the inside of his hipbone.
It wasn’t enough. Sitting back on her heels, she slowly drew his pants down his legs.
His cock sprang free, erect and proud. Wrapping her hand around the base, she stroked up the silken steel. He was long and thick, and when she reached the head, she brushed the pad of her thumb over the swollen tip.
“You keep touching me, I won’t last.” He pushed into her hand.
She tilted her head up. Dusky color rode his cheekbones, his eyes burned. “Then how about I lick you instead?”
Before he could answer, Becky drew her tongue slowly up his length then closed her mouth around him.
…
Logan’s chest locked as her mouth glided along his shaft. Like paradise. He struggled to keep control, but then he looked down.
The thin moonlight spilled over her tangled honey hair, her eyes closed as his swollen cock tunneled into her hot mouth. The blanket had slid from her shoulders, leaving her in a raspberry-colored tank and white panties kneeling at his feet. So damned giving. Filling all the ugly cracks inside of him with her sweet beauty.
In two months or so, she would be gone.
A primitive drive exploded in him. He had to possess her, get so deep inside her, she’d never be free of him. Never. He reached down, pulled her up to his mouth. Jerking the blanket from the ground, he tossed it over the railing and sat her on it.
“I—”
“You want me so deep inside you, you won’t forget me. That’s what you said.”
“Yes.”
Logan shoved up her shirt until her breasts spilled out. “Hold onto my shoulders.” Bracing one hand on her lower back to hold her, he cupped her breast and dragged his tongue over the distended nipple. Her answering shudder goaded him into lightly scraping his teeth over the sensitive bud. A breathy moan rewarded him.
Her fingers dug into his shoulder, her hips moving. “It’s not enough. Please.”
Her desperate cry arrowed th
rough him. Lifting his head, he saw it there in her, too. So little time. How would they get enough? His cock throbbed to get inside her. “You need this.” He drew his hands up her bare thighs, feeling goosebumps rise on her skin. Pressed her legs apart. “Say it.” He needed to know he wasn’t alone, wasn’t using her.
“I need us. For however long we have.”
That shredded the last of his control. Logan shoved aside her panties and cupped his hand over her. Oh hell. She was slick and wet, her folds swollen. When he circled her clit, she whimpered. “Don’t walk away. Don’t leave me like this.”
Shame and fury at himself rivaled the fierce lust and huge need for her. He’d walked away from her that night a week ago, humiliating her. “Never again, baby. You need my arms, my mouth, or my cock, and they’re yours.” With both hands he gripped the damp panel of material nestled between her thighs, and ripped it.
Grabbing hold of his shaft, he lined up to her entrance. The silky wet sensation nearly made his eyes roll back. So damn good. Couldn’t stop. He powered into her.
Becky gasped, her eyes wide and vulnerable. “Condom.”
Sheathed in her body, he tried to think. But he was lost. Becky surrounded him, he was feeling every part of her with nothing between them. “I don’t want a barrier. No more barriers.”
She wrapped her long legs around him, her soft thighs cradling his hips and Logan’s mind blazed hot. He jerked her forward, thrusting balls-deep. Pulled out.
Again.
Nothing felt like this. So damned perfect as her body closed around him, her walls gloving him. Logan sealed his mouth over hers, tasting her cries as he pumped, finding every spot that made her moan, gasp, bite his tongue, and beg.
Fire raced down his spine. His balls drew up. His heart thundered as everything slid away but them. Becky in his arms, her mouth on his, her legs around him as he surged into her molten channel.
Her legs trembled. Walls tightened. His cock swelled, going impossibly hard. Breaking the kiss, he locked into her gaze. Clamping her hip, he tilted her until he was rubbing over her clit with every thrust.
Becky threw her head back and convulsed. Hard. Her entire body shaking. Raw, greedy cries spilling from her throat.
He slammed into her and exploded. Burying his face in her neck, he inhaled her honeysuckle scent. This moment was so perfect he didn’t want to let it go. He should be worried, afraid, or, at the very least, anxious about not using a condom. But Becky’s hands on him chased everything away except the need to care for her. He pulled back to see her soft eyes. “Sleep with me. Please.” He could do it if she let him hold her.
“Okay. Here or in your bed?”
He closed his eyes, swallowing that thick knot in this throat. Not the usual rage that choked him, but something much bigger, more frightening in its own way.
The hope of Becky.
She’d come to him, given him her body with no barriers, and now she was willing to sleep out here on the porch if that was what he needed. Except she wouldn’t sleep. Oh no, not his girl, she loved her baby too much and would go in the house every twenty minutes to check her child. Logan pulled up his pants, handed her shirt to her, then gathered her in his arms. “I want my wife in my bed.”
But for how long?
Did he have it in him to be more than a temporary husband?
Chapter Thirteen
Wet licks on his hand woke Logan. Jiggy had his paws on the edge of the bed and lapped away at his fingers. Sun streamed in his windows, surprising him. Scratching the dog’s head to distract him, he glanced at the clock.
Seven a.m. He’d slept for more than three hours and later than usual.
Becky burrowed into his side, bringing back the memory of the night. He stroked her hair, his chest warming at the memories. She was the reason he’d slept. Something about feeling her alive and breathing in his arms relaxed him, held the nightmares back.
Soft, pitiful cries pierced his thoughts.
Sophie. That’s why Jiggy had woke him—he’d seen the dog let Becky know when the baby woke from her nap before. Now he’d have to get Becky up.
You could get Sophie for her. Try it. You’ve been able to hold her while riding.
But that was outside. His claustrophobia didn’t kick in outside.
The baby’s cries pitched up and Becky frowned in her sleep. Damn, she was tired. Okay, he eased his arm out from under her, slipped from the bed, and headed into the other room.
Sophie twisted on her back, her little face scrunched up, hands fisted. She drew her knees up then kicked straight out.
Pick her up. Just take her to her mom.
But she’s so little. So fragile. The room heated. Buzzing started in his ears, and air thickened. Made it hard to breathe.
He needed air.
“Logan.” Becky laid her hand on his back. “I’ve got her. Go shower or get some coffee.”
Damn, he hadn’t heard her come in.
Becky took her hand away to reach for the baby.
Coward. She’s just a baby, an innocent child. “Wait.”
She froze leaning halfway into the crib. Sophie had gone quiet at their voices, her huge eyes watching them both.
Logan unclenched his hands and softened his voice. “I want to pick her up. I have to be able to do this.”
Her eyes melted into tenderness. “Are you sure?”
He dragged in the heavy air, forcing himself to keep breathing. “Yes.”
Becky pulled back.
Logan rubbed his sweaty hands on his pants. It was ridiculous, he could handle a terrified horse that had been abused and teach the creature to trust him. He’d pulled injured friends from enemy fire, rescued captured Marines and protected civilians.
Becky’s hand settled on his back. “I could pick her up and hand her to you.”
There was zero judgment in her eyes or voice. Just warm support as she tried to make this easier for him. “I should be able to do this. She’s just a baby.” Frustration clawed at him.
“When Sophie was born, they put her in my arms, and I was overwhelmed with love and fear. Here was this tiny little human, so perfect and totally, 100 percent relying on me for everything. Once we were home, I was so tired. But when I fell asleep, I had these awful dreams where I would take Sophie some place and forget her. I’d wake up in total terror, my heart pounding, couldn’t breathe. I’d leap out of bed and check her basinet.”
Logan leaned his forehead against hers.
“I sound stupid, don’t I? Thinking my little story somehow compares to what you’ve been though. I’m sorry.”
“No.” His throat was raw. “You are so much more than beautiful. So much. You make me feel sane.” How long had it been since he hadn’t felt broken and unworthy?
“You are sane. Insane is screaming, jumping around, and running like a lunatic from bees. That just stirs them up. You’re dealing with your issues. You got help. I hid from mine because I hated remembering that I’m allergic. So irrational. I didn’t cause my father and brother to die by getting stung and having an allergic reaction, but my brain won’t get the message. My response is crazy.”
He wrapped his arms around her. Everything in him wanted to protect Becky from ever experiencing pain like that. And that meant he needed to hold Sophie with natural ease. The social worker would come to the house; he had to make this look real.
Sophie let out a bellow of impatience. Logan released Becky and turned.
Don’t think, just do it.
He leaned over, slipped his hands beneath her and lifted her up. She stopped bawling, but her lip quivered, and her wet eyes stared at him. A little shudder wracked her body.
Alive. She’s alive. Safe.
He had her head in one hand and her butt and back in the other. “You want your mama, don’t you?”
“Gah.” She kicked his stomach.
“Why do I think you’re saying ‘Let’s ride’ rather than ‘I’m hungry’?” Thinking of being on a horse with Sophie he
lped keep a lid on the bubbling anxiety hovering at the base of his spine. He turned, ready to hand her off.
Becky’s fingers brushed his, creating a spark between them. She lifted her head, her eyes catching his and holding him while the baby was cradled between them. She felt it too—the connection growing and strengthening.
He wanted to kiss his wife. Hell, he wanted to give her more than just this pretend marriage. She’d come to him on the porch, let him take her the way he’d needed her freely, holding nothing back. And what did he do for her? He hadn’t even taken her out, treated her the way a man should treat a woman.
Becky stroked his hand. “You can let go. I have her.”
She wasn’t getting it. “I thought I’d want to.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” This moment stretched, wrapping around them, just Logan with his wife and step-baby.
“What’s happening here?” She whispered it as if afraid to break the spell.
“You’re turning me and my world inside out. You make me want to be more than your temporary husband.”
“Maybe it’d be better to stick to our agreement.”
The hurt building in her eyes shamed him and he didn’t know what the fuck to do. “I care about you. How about we take these next two months and see what happens? See if what we have is real and possible? No promises, no pressure.” Yeah, way to woo her.
“Sure. We’ll do that. No pressure.”
“Let’s go on a date tonight. Just casual, we’ll go to Spinners, a friend of mine owns the bar. We’ll dance, and if you ask real nice…maybe I’ll show you my skills on the mechanical bull.” He reconsidered as he heard it come out of his mouth. She deserved better than a sports bar. “Or I could take you to a nice dinner.”
Her expression cleared as excitement filled her eyes. “I’d rather go to your friend’s bar. It sounds like fun.”
Better. This was better. “It’s a date.”
…
Becky’s nerves danced and popped as they went into the bar. Logan had on dark jeans and a thin charcoal sweater pushed up to his elbows. He smelled awesome, soap and that richer male scent that was pure Logan.
Her Temporary Hero (a Once a Marine Series book) (Entangled Indulgence) Page 13