by Jayne Frost
If that were an option, I would’ve taken it. But her pout told me it wasn’t. So I pulled her to standing. “Not yet. Let’s dance first.”
Surprise flashed across Tori’s features. But then she hesitated, and I wanted to ask what else she needed to make her happy. Maybe a kidney, because it would probably be easier to scoop one out than act like I was enjoying this.
She took a deep breath and then shrugged out of her short, denim jacket.
And holy fuck, if I would have known what she was hiding under there … The little white dress molded to her curves perfectly, but it was only after she turned to lay her jacket on the chair that I got the full effect. The gauzy material tapered into a V, exposing her entire back. Miles of ink and skin and art. And pain that looked pretty.
I dipped my head to kiss her bare shoulder. “Nice dress.”
She turned her head, and soft lips grazed my ear. “Thank you. Now dance with me.”
32
I leaned forward to get a good look at the moon through the windshield. Dark consumed every inch of the sky without a hint of light coming from the east.
“What’s the matter?” Logan asked from his position in the passenger seat. He brought my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my palm. “Besides the fact that you look weird behind the wheel of my car.”
Eyes still focused on the heavens, I slumped against the upholstery. It was almost over. Our endless night. One dance at the honky-tonk had turned into twelve. And that evolved into finding a Denny’s to eat breakfast at two a.m. when they kicked us out.
And now here we were, sitting in front of the carriage house waiting for the dawn to come crawling and the magic to end.
Logan shifted to face me, his back against the door, head resting on the glass. “Talk to me, Victoria.”
I smiled. “It’s so quiet. Isn’t it?”
He flipped on the radio. Which was so like him. See the problem, fix the problem. For weeks, he’d been doing it. From the moment he found me in the rain outside the tour bus.
“You do that a lot,” I said, digging my pinky nail into a crease on the steering wheel.
“What?”
“Fix things.”
Snorting a laugh, he bit my knuckle. “No … I really don’t. Ask my sister.” Facing him fully, I waited for him to elaborate, but he shook his head. “Too early for all that shit, princess. Ask me some other time.”
Shifting my focus back to the vast expanse of nothing outside the window, my stomach churned. In four days, Tennessee would be a memory. Things would change once we reached New York. There might not be another time.
I cleared my throat. “Did you start those online courses?”
My heart slammed against my ribs when he looked away.
“Yeah, I’m all over it.”
Of course he was. This was nothing to him. A “road thing,” as Paige used to call it.
“Things happen on the road, Belle. You’d know that if you were single.”
Was I single now?
Logan raised our joined hands, pointing toward a tiny sliver of light on the horizon. “Look … sunrise.”
The air left my body in a soft rush, that little piece of morning stealing my breath. And suddenly, all I wanted was a bed with a lot of covers I could hide under.
“I should go.”
It came out like a question, and Logan answered without words, straightening in his seat and scrubbing a hand over his face.
The magic was gone.
I climbed out of the car, eager to get inside before the morning rays crested the mountains. Logan joined me on the sidewalk, his hands stuffed in his pockets.
“That was fun,” I said sincerely.
He nodded, looking anywhere but at me. “Where did Daryl get off to?”
I hitched a thumb over my shoulder at the white Taurus parked a few spaces away. “That’s his back up. Lukas something. Supposedly, Daryl only needs five hours sleep. He’ll be around later.”
Nodding, Logan toed the pavement, chewing his lip.
My thumb danced over the Mustang logo on the fob clutched in my hand. Reluctantly, I held out the keys. “Here you go. Almost forgot.”
He smiled as I dropped the set into his waiting palm. “I’ve never let anyone drive my car.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please. I didn’t even put twenty miles on the beast.”
“Beast?” His brow quirked as he took a step into my space. “She’s a girl.”
Twisting my mouth to one side, I fluttered my lashes. “Whatever you say.”
The smile melted. “You’re so fucking cute.”
He swung his gaze to the horizon, his eyes warming to turquoise in the barely there light.
“I better go,” I said.
If I thought Logan would stop me, I was mistaken. But I did sense him watching me as I walked away. Without my jacket, I felt exposed, even though the sky had yet to turn and I was merely a shadow.
Once inside, I leaned against the wall and pried off my boots. Groaning, I wiggled my toes inside the cushy socks.
My heart rate spiked when a soft knock echoed in the small foyer. I tiptoed to the door to check the peep hole, my breath trapped in my throat. Blond hair. That’s all I saw. But I knew it was Logan.
I swung the door open. “Hey, what—”
He crashed into me with enough force to knock me off balance. Not that it mattered because his hands were on my ass, his rock-hard chest pressed against me.
“You didn’t kiss me good night,” he rasped.
I tipped my head back to meet his gaze. “It’s morning.”
Curving his hand around my thigh, he lifted me off the ground like I weighed nothing, and we were eye to eye. “Then kiss me good morning.”
I smiled, because if Logan really wanted a kiss, he’d just take one. It wasn’t like I minded his little sneak attacks. But then I realized, he didn’t want to kiss me. He wanted me to kiss him.
For a good five seconds, I just stared. And then slowly, so slowly, with my eyes wide open, I pressed my lips to his. It wasn’t a kiss, but an invitation. “Do you want to come upstairs?”
Logan’s gaze roamed over my face, and that made me a little nervous. But then he smiled. “Yes.”
Just … yes.
His lips touched mine as he eased me to my feet. When he headed for the stairs, I felt a tug on my arm and realized our fingers were laced and I hadn’t moved.
He looked back at me with questions in his eyes. And my answer was the same as his. Yes. To whatever he offered. As if Logan knew my legs were the only thing keeping this train from moving forward, he doubled back and swept me up.
“I can walk,” I protested, secretly grateful I didn’t have to.
He smiled, but said nothing. And then, because he was right there, our endless night lingering on his skin like an imprint, I kissed his neck. His fingers dug into my flesh, and he released a sharp breath. And I did it again. And again. Normally, it was all Logan moving us toward the finish. But not right now. Right now it was me. Because I remembered this from before. And I liked it. But now it was after, and I still liked it. And I wanted it. I wanted Logan.
Gripping his T-shirt, I held on tight when he tried to lay me down on the bed. And for once, he was the one off balance. The clumsy one. We toppled onto the mattress, all arms and legs. My hands on his belt, his mouth … everywhere.
And the words. His: “Fuck baby, I want you,” and “God, you smell good,” and “Yes. Fuck yes.”
And then mine: “Now … Please.”
Everything got quiet and still. Frantic, but not. Because this was going to happen.
Did I want this to happen?
Logan’s weight disappeared, and he was on his feet, looking down at me, the hem of his T-shirt in his hand.
“On or off, Victoria?”
His eyes were a darker blue than I’d ever seen, filled with desire. But still, the choice was mine. Another night of not quite sex, if that’s what I wanted. A safety net.
> “Off. Take it off.”
And though I knew I could still change my mind, something clicked as I watched him slide out of his clothes. I scooted toward the pillow, and he smiled, eyeing me like I was prey. And then he was on me again, hands under my dress, tugging off my boy shorts.
I squeezed my eyes shut, the world shimmering around the edges as his tongue dipped between my folds. Not gently, like last time. But urgent.
“So sweet,” he growled in between licking and biting and sucking. “Your cunt is so sweet.” I stopped moving, and he peered up at the same time I looked down. “You don’t like that word, princess?”
His voice was rough. Challenging. But his eyes were still soft. Still gentle. Still Logan’s.
“I like it,” I was surprised to hear myself say. And he smiled, like he knew it all along. And maybe he did. Because this, all of it, felt so right. I didn’t have time to ponder, because his hot mouth descended again. One finger slid inside me and found that place on my inner wall that made everything clench.
“Logan …” My fingers coiled into his hair, and the world splintered. And I was coming. And chanting. Writhing against him.
His free hand found mine, fisted in the sheets, and he pried my fingers apart, lacing our digits. Like he knew if he didn’t, I might float away. His lips moved to my inner thigh as the last waves of my orgasm receded. And then … nothing. My eyes flew open because he was kissing that spot on my skin where there was no feeling. Except that there was. In my head, there was.
Logan finally finished, and he rose to his knees. With our fingers still threaded, he pulled me up so he could tug my dress over my head.
“Wait,” I said. His head cocked to the side when our eyes met. “No … Not wait. I just … I want to get under the covers.”
He nodded, something creeping into his eyes. Disappointment? Maybe I’d imagined it, because he tossed back the comforter. When I scrambled underneath, he followed me and drew the blanket over our heads like a tent. I almost laughed, because it felt like we were hiding.
“Kiss me,” he said, his fingers in my hair. And then his mouth crashed into mine, and I tasted myself on his lips. When he finally broke the connection, he rolled away, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him rip the foil packet with his teeth.
God, I was such a novice. How did I forget about that part?
“What is it?” he asked, grasping my chin and coaxing my gaze to his.
I thought about lying. But this was Logan. “I’m so stupid. I forgot about condoms.”
It was meant to be a joke. Self-deprecating. But his eyes flashed with something feral. Just as quickly, it disappeared. “Lucky for you, I didn’t.”
The post orgasmic fog had lifted enough to let all my worries creep inside, filling the space in our little tent. And of course, Logan noticed that too. He was above me now, his slim hips between my legs.
“Are you okay?” he asked, and when all I could manage was a jerky nod, he pushed the covers off. His eyes narrowed, gaze roaming over my face. “Baby, you look scared. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“No, I’m fine.” I slid my arms around his neck and tried to pull him back to me. Back to where we were just minutes ago.
But he didn’t budge, shifting his weight to the side.
“Why are we stopping?” I asked, even though I feared the answer.
“We’re not. I’m just waiting.” I cut my gaze to the side and found him smiling. “I want all of you, Victoria. When I’m here,” his fingers dipped between my folds at the same time his lips brushed my temple, “I want to be here, too. Inside your head. So tell me what it is.”
Before I completely ruined the moment, I took a deep breath. “I don’t know how this is going to go. My body could let me down.”
Let you down.
He grinned. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem considering all the orgasms.”
I bit my lip. “You weren’t … you know … inside, before.”
Propping on his elbow, he looked down at me. “So you’re worried about me, then?”
What really worried me was this conversation. The need for it. “You’ve seen the scars on the outside, but inside. My pelvis was crushed. What if …?”
I couldn’t tell him the real truth. That I worried something was wrong. Inside. That when they put me back together, maybe they missed something. It was an irrational fear. But I pictured the mesh that held me together. The fragile seams.
Logan eased on top of me, and despite my trepidation, I opened for him. “Tell me if I hurt you,” he roughed out. And then I felt him at my entrance. Resting his forehead against mine, he sank in an inch. When I gasped at the intrusion, he stilled.
“I’m okay,” I said. “I’m good.” Another inch. And another. And then I was full. So full. “Oh … God.”
“Open your eyes, Victoria.” My lids fluttered open and I met his gaze. So intense. The truest, bluest blue. “Are you still okay?”
I nodded, and unable to find the words, I wrapped my legs around his waist.
This time, he was the one who closed his eyes. “Fuck … fuck … fuck. Tell me you’re good, because I want to move, baby. You feel so fucking tight. So wet. I can’t …”
Sliding my arms around him, my fingers threaded the soft strands at the back of his head, and I guided him to the crook of my neck. “Go,” I whispered, close to his ear.
And he did. Slow at first. Then faster. Harder. All the while, he spoke softly against my skin. And then his lips found mine, and our tongues joined the dance. The rhythm. The song. And when I toppled over the edge, Logan was right there with me. Ready to break my fall.
33
I stumbled out of bed with the ringing phone in my hand. Evening light poured through the window, the rays barely touching the tip of Tori’s exposed foot.
We’d spent all day in bed. Fucking. Eating. Talking.
Tori stirred, rolling onto her back with her eyes closed. And with the sheet tangled low on her hips, exposing her tits for me to feast on, I seriously considered letting my sister’s call go to voicemail. Fighting off the urge, I snatched my boxer briefs off the floor and headed for the bathroom. With one last look at the heaven I was leaving in the bed, I closed the door behind me.
“Hey, Laurel.”
“Lo. Where have you been?” Irritation threaded her tone equally. “I’ve called you three times.”
I took a seat on the edge of the tub. “Sorry, I was …” I drew a blank. Well, not really a blank since Tori’s fine ass popped into my head. But nothing I could share with Laurel. “Really tired. I was up all night.”
“You were partying … in Nashville? You hate Nashville.”
Not anymore.
“I’m not really in Nashville. I’m north of there at the Fontanel Inn. Ever heard of it?”
She snorted. “Of course I have. It’s a little rich for my blood.”
Biting my tongue, I stopped short of telling her I’d bring her here after the tour. Keeping Laurel out of Nashville was high on my list of priorities.
I grunted noncommittally, and she moved on. “Listen, I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”
“Yes” danced on the tip of my tongue. Then I thought about Jake.
“Depends.”
“Okay … I have a friend who lives there.” My back stiffened when I thought of all the “friends” who’d kept Laurel hidden during the months I was looking for her. “I used to sleep on her couch when Timmy … when he’d get mad at me.”
Timmy. The owner of the strip club where Laurel used to dance. He’d paid for every bruise he’d put on my sister with one of his teeth. Good times.
“Anyway,” Laurel went on, “she really wants to go to your show. Do you think, I mean, is there any way …?”
“I can get her tickets,” I said, digging my fingers into my eyes. “Text me her name, and I’ll pass it on. They’ll be waiting for her at Will Call.”
“Thanks, Lo.”
Silence swirled b
etween us, the way it had every time we’d spoken since our fight. I was about to say my goodbyes and peace out the conversation when Laurel sighed. “Aren’t you even going to ask?”
I gnawed on my thumbnail, a habit I’d given up years ago after Jake slapped me in the head one too many times.
“Stop chewing your nails, boy. You nervous about something?”
Dragging my shoulders back, I glared at my reflection in the mirror. “Ask about what?”
I knew.
We both knew.
But the sooner my sister got it into her head that I’d never willingly inquire about Jake, the better.
“Dad.”
That single word set my teeth on edge. “Don’t have one, darlin’.”
“Why do you still hate him so much?” she hissed, her tone laced with venom. For me. Not the monster.
The truth lodged in my throat like a ball of cement. But after all these years, I couldn’t call it forth. And even if I could, Laurel wasn’t prepared to hear it.
“He’s a shitty person, Laurel. He doesn’t deserve your love.”
“Everybody deserves love, Logan. Even Daddy. Even me.” Her tone softened. “And especially you.”
She sounded so vulnerable, all the fight left me. “I love you, baby girl. Isn’t that enough?”
Her silence said it all. It wasn’t. My sister took love where she could get it. Even the bad kind. Because she had no self-esteem. And that was Jake’s fault too.
“I gotta go,” I said. “Text me your friend’s name. I’ll hook her up.”
I pressed end before she could reply.
At the sink, I ran a hand through my hair and splashed some water on my face.
Everyone deserves love.
“Yeah, right,” I mumbled to my reflection.
Shaking my head, I wandered back to the bedroom where I found Tori with her back propped against the headboard, staring out the window.
She whipped her gaze in my direction. “You’re here.”
For a moment, I didn’t move. “Yeah,” I said slowly as I walked to the bed. “Where else would I be?”
She looked down at her hands. “I don’t know. I thought you left.”