by Tina Donahue
“Me being a wuss. You have no idea what I have planned for you.”
Given his husky voice and wolfish expression, Tessa had a fair idea. Heat suffused her chest, throat, and cheeks.
Logan noted her deep blush. “You all right?”
“Are you?”
“If I’m not and need CPR, you’ll be giving it to me. Understand?”
Yes sir. Recalling their kiss, the sheer wonder of it, Tessa nodded obediently. “Should I continue?”
“Only if you don’t want to be punished. Your choice.”
Her heart skipped a beat. The thought of him turning her over his knee and paddling her if she didn’t obey him was a huge turn-on. Her cunt grew damper, the breeze licking her moisture. She wondered if it glistened in the sun, her arousal so obvious he’d notice. “You want to spank me?”
“What do you want, Tessa?”
He was turning things around on her again, demanding that she reveal things about herself while he remained aloof. Not eager to fight him at this time, she murmured, “Later.”
He nodded. “Definitely later. Get rid of the top. Quickly,” he ordered.
Tamed and loving it, Tessa pulled the garment off without any hesitation and dropped it on top of her shorts. If she’d flung it into one of the trees, Logan probably wouldn’t have noticed given how he focused on her bra.
When she reached in back to unclasp it, he said, “No. Leave it on.”
Tessa’s hands returned to her sides, giving him the show he wanted. Her bra had half cups, the ebony satin and lace fully exposing her nipples. Unlike the night of the auction, they weren’t rouged.
Logan ran his forefinger around her right areola. Ribbons of sensation shot through Tessa, forcing her to bite back a bawdy moan. Her nipples constricted even more, the tips über firm.
“Nice,” he whispered, then spoke more loudly. “Do you always wear bras like this one?”
She hadn’t before today, so she said “no” quickly, not wanting Logan to think she had for her other clients, which might make him wonder what she did with them. That would surely drive home that she was nothing more than an escort. Something Tessa couldn’t abide. She’d enjoyed their banter and his praise too much, sharing her history with him even though he had yet to reveal anything personal to her.
“You should,” he said. Honesty rang in his words. “It’s amazing.”
She smiled inwardly at his awe, floored and pleased by it. “Thanks. You hungry?”
He pulled his attention from her nipples.
Moments passed in silence, the air thick with promise. If he reached for her now, Tessa knew she wouldn’t resist…couldn’t. Although she had a clear desire for how this week should go, she wasn’t made of stone. She’d been lonely for too many years. Ignored for as long as she could remember. One touch from him and she’d sag against his hard body, her mouth on his, her hands roaming over all the good spots.
To her surprise, he behaved. Just as she’d wanted earlier. So they could get to know each other a bit first.
“For food,” she finally added when he said nothing at all. “The picnic lunch I’m going to make.”
That broke his concentration…somewhat. He divided his attention between her naked cleft, her sandals’ black bows, the dangling garnets, and her bared nipples, as though unable to decide where to linger the most.
At last, he gestured to the front door.
Tessa didn’t move. “My luggage?”
Logan looked around, obviously surprised it wasn’t in the vicinity. He retrieved it, along with her clothing—which he pressed to his face and sniffed, savoring her fragrance.
She swallowed hard, moved beyond anything she’d known.
When he offered the garments to her, she couldn’t help but tease, “Sure you don’t want to keep them?”
His face colored. He shoved the wad into her purse.
Tessa touched the bag. “I’ll take it.” She leaned toward him. “If you don’t mind.”
Logan huffed out the huge breath he’d just taken and delivered the purse. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
“I’m stronger than you can ever imagine.”
“Oh yeah?” He looked intrigued. “Tell me.”
“Later,” she promised. “At lunch. By the pond.” Hopefully, they’d have a chance to talk about him then.
He must have guessed her intent, because his previous interest turned guarded. Moving past her, he reached the door and opened it.
She entered first, stopping immediately, holding back a gasp of surprise.
The foyer was cathedral-like, the steepled ceiling part reddish wood, part glass. Sun drenched the numerous indoor plants, burnished hardwood floors, and lengthy Persian rugs, the intricate designs woven in crimson, blue and taupe threads. Outside of a mahogany credenza and a couple of accent tables—with more waxy green plants on them—there was very little furniture.
Just enough for her to bend over at the waist so Logan could mount her from behind. Unless he directed her to her hands and knees so he could take her on one of those ginormous rugs.
Tessa went dizzy at the thought. She pulled in as much air as she could, detecting a hint of citrusy polish and an alpine scent, possibly Febreze.
Unable to help herself, she gushed. “The pictures didn’t do this place justice.”
Logan didn’t comment. Tessa glanced over. His head was bent to her ass, his expression distracted, longing.
She should have undressed faster, and would have if she’d known it would be as wonderful as this.
Wanting to play with him, she spoke louder, “Don’t you think?”
He blinked, then regarded her. “I’m sorry. What was the question?”
“Don’t you think that you have a really nice place?”
He regarded it as if noticing for the first time. “Yeah. Sure.”
“Must be murder to keep clean.”
He lifted his shoulders. “I would imagine.”
“You weren’t expecting me to do much more than cooking for you, right?” Tessa asked.
“Far more,” he answered immediately. “Though cleaning won’t be a part of it.”
She grinned as he did, losing her smile first at the sudden sounds she heard.
Faint clacking noises came from somewhere to the left, followed by a couple of muffled thuds as though something or someone had struck the wall. All too quickly, Tessa became aware of her partial nudity. Had one of Logan’s caretakers come back to clean up a bit more, spray some extra air freshener, make a late lunch?
She stepped back, her shoulder bumping his, her purse covering her. She muttered, “Shouldn’t you tell them to stop?”
“Who?”
His breath brushed her neck, he was that close. Despite her concern, Tessa shivered at its warmth and his scent, way better than anything Febreze offered. “Your caretakers.”
“I told you, they’re gone.”
“Well, someone’s coming down the hall. Please tell them to stop.”
“Can’t. They won’t listen.”
She made a face.
He smiled. “Relax. Look.”
Two Lab puppies, both black, rounded the corner, losing their footing on the waxed surface. The first one, and then the second, bumped into the wall. They recovered quickly and bounded toward Logan.
Tessa pressed her palm to her chest at how adorable they were. The male puppy was all over Logan, jumping on his legs, licking his jeans. The female pup gazed up at Tessa in wonder.
“How’d you get her to do that?” Tessa asked.
Logan picked up the male dog and scratched him behind the ears. “Do what? She’s just sitting there on her haunches.”
While sucking a pacifier. It was pink with glittery sparkles embedded in the plastic. The pup held it in her mouth just as an infant would. “Did you teach her to suck on that thing?”
“And ruin her teeth?” He smiled. “Molly came that way from the breeder. He said she took the pacifier from his daughter. His wife le
t Molly keep it because it was the only way to quiet her down.”
Aw. “Poor sweetie.” Tessa slung her purse’s strap over her shoulder and scooped Molly into her arms. The pup breathed and drooled around the pacifier. “You missed your momma?”
She made a doggy noise that sounded like contentment or love. Tessa rubbed her nose against the sweet thing’s snout. Molly let the pacifier drop from her mouth, then licked Tessa with abandon.
She laughed. “Who’s the big boy?”
Logan glanced at his fly. Tessa elbowed him playfully, filled with the confidence he’d given her.
“Oh,” he said. “You mean him.” He lifted the pup in one hand. “This is Jack.”
“You’re a doll too,” Tessa said, shaking Jack’s paw.
He squirmed in Logan’s hand, wanting freedom.
“Can I take Molly into the kitchen with me?” Tessa asked, retrieving the pacifier and offering it to her. “While I make us lunch?”
“Sure. If you can keep her in there, you’re a better man than I am.”
Tessa tilted her head and regarded Logan’s full, luscious length. All those hard slabs of muscle. One hundred percent male prime. “I doubt that. What do you like to eat?”
He focused on her unprotected cleft and equally naked nipples. “Surprise me.”
His baritone seemed even deeper.
“Sure you want that?” she asked.
Fascination swept over his face at what she might provide. However, behind it Tessa still saw a bit of reserve. Not wanting any thoughts to intrude, she gestured to her luggage. “Want me to take that?”
“I’ll put it upstairs. You’re going to keep your purse?”
“Absolutely. I’ll carry Molly in it.”
“You are brave.”
“Strong,” she corrected with a wink.
Logan didn’t return it. “No, brave. She’s not exactly what you’d call housebroken.”
“Guess you’ll have to stay here then.” Tessa snuggled the pooch between her breasts and kissed the top of her head.
“Lucky dog,” Logan mumbled.
“What was that?”
He lifted her luggage, swinging it back and forth as if it weighed nothing to such a big, strong, macho man. “I’ll take this upstairs.”
“Wait.”
Logan paused at the bottom step. “Change your mind about fixing a meal?”
Tessa didn’t answer immediately, noting what he’d left unspoken. That she continued to delay the inevitable.
Damn right. She liked him more with each passing moment, especially the way they flirted so easily. It felt good, needed, as though they were beginning to be friends. She didn’t want an abrupt end to that, a shift to something more erotic but less substantial.
Lust would come…when the time was right.
At last, she answered, “Not unless you refuse to tell me where the kitchen is.” She arched one eyebrow. “I’m good with my hands, but I’m no girl scout. Can’t start a fire with two sticks or anything like that.”
“Don’t be so certain.”
She fought her smile. “You don’t have a kitchen here? It’s okay if you don’t. I’m not judgmental at all.”
“God help me if I’d been a conservative.”
“Your words, not mine.”
He narrowed his eyes and feigned a hard tone. “Down the hall to your left. It’s the room with all the appliances in it. Just like the pictures in Architectural Digest.”
“How convenient.” She grew as serious as he had. “Should I holler if I get lost?”
“Just use your computer. Check out the floor plan the magazine ran.”
They hadn’t. Not that Tessa could tell him that. He was already climbing the stairs, with Jack doing his best to follow.
Had she teased Logan too much? No. He’d like it. Tessa knew that as well as she understood her own heart. She craned her neck for a better view, studying his firm ass and muscular thighs. Reaching the landing, he turned and looked down at her as he waited for his pup.
Busted, Tessa couldn’t move or breathe.
Logan was far less emotional, showing no surprise or obvious pleasure that she’d been watching. A few strands of his hair had fallen over his forehead. It made him seem younger, almost boyish. He wasn’t though. Technically, he was the master of this place and her until next Sunday. A man who would demand when the time arrived. Of that, Tessa was certain.
His expression grew thoughtful, almost wanting. Before he revealed too much of himself, he rounded the wall at the top with Jack yapping at his heels.
Tessa waited until his footfalls had faded, then went down the hall, holding Molly in one arm and digging in her purse with her other hand for her iPhone. Although she’d turned the ringtone’s volume way down, Lady Gaga’s Poker Face sounded deafening. Who could be calling her now?
The display read Felicity.
“Hi, what’s up?” Tessa whispered into her phone.
“That’s what I was about to ask you,” Felicity whispered back. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”
“Ronnie called. She said you had kind of strange conversation with Wallace on the way to Logan’s. She asked me if everything was all right with you. I assured her it was, then figured I better call to make certain. “
Tessa paused in the kitchen’s doorway. She tilted her head, her chin going up, up, up at all those windows. “Wow, you’d never believe this place.”
“What place? Logan’s home?”
Tessa nodded. She whispered, “You did tell Ronnie that I’d never ask Logan about his past. Never. Not my business.”
“That’s basically what I said.”
“Good. I just want to know other stuff about him.”
Felicity mewled like an injured animal or someone on the verge of orgasm.
“Are you with your guy now?” Tessa asked.
“Well yeah, but he’s sleeping. What did you mean by the other stuff about him—Logan.”
Everything that’s left. “Nothing bad, believe me. It’s going well.” Unbelievably well. Tessa regarded her partial nudity, trying to see it as Logan appeared to…as though she were luscious, succulent, not lacking in the looks department. “You’d never believe what I’m doing. What he’s already asked for.”
With his hands behind his head, Logan lay on the mattress in the master bedroom, a king-size four-poster constructed of a dark wood the decorator had chosen. Heavy beams supported the A-frame ceiling above him. The west wall was nothing but windows, revealing the small forest that bordered the house.
He didn’t bother looking at those trees or the rustic ceiling. The posts at the foot of the bed had captured and continued to hold his attention. He kept picturing Tessa secured to them, arms above her head, nude except for her body jewelry, that awesome bra, and adorable shoes. He really liked those little bows, so fucking innocent.
Sort of like the woman who wore them, though not entirely, at least when they’d kissed. He recalled the taste of her lips and tongue, her mouth loose and wanting beneath his. He remembered how rigid her nipple had been after he’d run his forefinger around it, its natural tint a delicate pink. The color of candy hearts so popular around Valentine’s Day, an unexpected blend of innocence and seduction.
His cock stiffened even more. He adjusted his legs, hips. Didn’t help. His jeans felt as though they were several sizes too small. It was too hot in here too, the air close, stifling.
His thoughts out of control.
With Tessa secured to one of the posts, he’d be able to do whatever he wanted for hours. Dragging his thumbs over her nipples, licking, sucking them, grinding his groin into hers. Her sweet, smooth pussy would absorb the roughness of the denim, his cock hard and meaty behind his fly.
She’d say something eventually. Or rather, surely. In that department, she wasn’t at all shy. However, he’d quiet her down with his deep, brutal kisses. Enjoying them and her…as an escort, not a woman he was starting to
like. That wasn’t in his program.
Downstairs, her sandals slapped against the hardwood floor, the consistency of the sounds revealing how she paced. She was directly below him in the kitchen, the vents delivering whatever noise she made to this room. Jack scurried around, bumping into furniture, tripping on the rug as he tried to locate the source of the tapping. Tessa’s voice cut in and out, her words subdued, unintelligible. Either she was talking to Molly, herself, or perhaps someone on her cell phone.
Wallace? Had she changed her mind about all of this?
A pang of worry tightened Logan’s chest even as good sense told him she should have second thoughts. It would be best if she left before they went any farther and things got too uncontrollable. Already this wasn’t turning out at all as he’d expected or planned.
In the days between winning her at the auction and the moment Wallace had pulled up, Logan kept seeing himself hauling her to this room, ordering her to undress. While she was sprawled on the mattress, he’d planned to enjoy her orally first, licking her soft petals, tonguing her clit. When she was in the midst of her orgasm and then her afterglow, he’d intended to strip and fuck her into tomorrow. Then repeat the same thing for seven days.
He’d hoped by the time she noticed what his nudity revealed, she wouldn’t let on how the scarring bothered her. Trained to be the perfect companion, she’d pretend his flaws were no big deal. If she’d been the typical escort—which she definitely was not—her demeanor and words would assure him that he was so hot, so fucking hung that was all she could focus on.
Not that he’d believe any of that shit. Better if she didn’t talk at all about his body, pretending not to notice what was good or bad. He certainly didn’t want her or anyone’s sympathy.
Until this moment, he hadn’t cared how he looked. Getting through the day required all of his effort, including exercising religiously so that his muscles and limbs remained loose, allowing him to move without effort as he once had. He had little desire or patience for doctors who kept telling him to go the plastic surgery route.
“You’d be amazed at what a skilled surgeon can do,” one of them had boasted.
Could they change history? Bring back his life as it had been before Nicole’s final bid for control, or whatever the hell it was?