He didn’t need to be told twice. Cupping her ass in both hands, he hoisted her up onto the table, putting her down harder than he’d intended. The table shook, a fork clattering to the floor. But when he looked up into her face, she was smiling wide with joy. He hadn’t hurt her at all. She was too tough to be bothered by a little rough handling.
She lay back on the table, hiking her skirt up under her bare breasts. Logan scrambled for the buttons on his jeans, nearly wanting to tear them off. He’d never missed a zipper so much in his life. As he busily worked the buttons loose, he looked down between her legs, the soft brown mound of hair glistening with wetness in the candlelight.
He thought he might explode right there in his pants, before he’d even gotten a chance to feel himself inside her, but he closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Then he mercifully slid the jeans down, along with the undershorts beneath, his cock springing free into the warm air of the house. It felt uncaged and so very hungry.
He took it into his hand, stepped close to the edge of the table, and guided the head to her welcoming lips. He looked up to see her look him in the eyes, her hungry stare full of lust. Her mouth hung open, the tip of her tongue pressed hard against the corner of her lips.
“Fuck me, Logan Carver,” she said.
He obliged, pushing the head forward, sliding into her warm wetness. God, she felt incredible. He closed his eyes, letting out a low moan.
He felt her scoot closer to the edge of the table, pushing herself down onto him. He pushed himself as deep as he could go inside her, feeling her squeeze around him. He wanted to stay like that forever, for time to stop altogether in that moment, the two of them locked together in the most intimate way possible for all eternity.
But Sally was hungry for movement. He felt her hips begin to move, and he responded by beginning to pull himself back out of her, feeling her pull against him as he did.
He cupped his hands under the back of her knees, hoisting her legs high. She reached out and gripped both sides of the table.
He withdrew nearly all the way, then plunged back deep inside her, slamming his body against hers, the flesh on her ass and thighs quivering with the shock. Her breasts rocked back and forth, and the expression on her face was still feral, but now filled with delight.
He slid back, then forward again, and again, and again, fucking her with an intensity that made him feel dizzy. He had imagined being with her, of a soft and sensual first time. But now he realized there was no way this could have gone any other way.
Logan had the tension of years in prison. He had been ripped from his own time, shot across the vastness of years not only by the clever machinations of science, but by some willful force. They were meant to be together. And they had fought side by side, the danger of possible death fueling their mutual need. Their passion was powerful, volatile, and urgent.
So he squeezed the backs of her thighs as he increased the pace, pounding into her, no longer worried about treating her gently. She clung to the table as if it were sliding down a mountainside, her entire body shaking with the force of him, her mouth still bared in an expression of animalistic joy.
She arched her back, crying out. He plunged into her with energy he didn’t even know he had, with zeal he wasn’t sure he would ever feel again.
And then, surprised he had lasted as long as he had, he felt like the sky burst open. He released himself into her, squeezing her legs tight. At the height of it, he opened his eyes and locked onto hers, blazing with lust.
Then she came, following right behind him, her jaw dropping all the way open, a deep moan echoing from within her. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back, her whole body locking up, the wood of the table groaning underneath her. Then she let out a scream, like a war cry of triumph.
Logan felt his shoulders sag. Sally’s entire body relaxed too, slumping to the table. He was gasping for air, shaking all over. He’d never had an experience anything like that, like lightning and thunder rolling between their bodies, white-hot energy pulsing from her body into his and back again.
He took a deep breath, then reached down under the small of her back and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around him as he lifted her off the table, pulling her into his embrace.
He kissed her deeply, cradling her in his shaking arms, tasting her, wanting to drink her in. After the kiss, he looked into her eyes. He tried to think of what to say, but any words that came to mind only seemed to cheapen what they had both just felt.
Even “I love you” seemed inadequate. What he felt for her transcended love, as if their souls were somehow woven together across the expanse of time.
Instead of saying anything, he carried her from the kitchen into the back room, laying her down on the bed, then moving on top of her, straddling her.
He was still wearing his shirt, and he pulled it up over his head. While he did, she unfastened her skirt and pulled it out from underneath her. There were both completely naked then.
Logan lowered himself to her, feeling his chest press against hers for the first time, the pert tips of her nipples pushing against his skin, the smoothness of her belly flattening against his own.
He moved his face under her chin to kiss her throat, nuzzling against her jaw. Kissing and licking, he moved up to her ear, where he softly bit the lobe.
His hands caressed the length of her body, his right moving up to cup her breast, the softness filling his grip. The other hand slid back down to squeeze her ass.
He was breathing heavily again, feeling himself harden despite the shattering release he had just experienced.
He whispered in her ear: “Again?”
Her response was to move both hands down to grab his hardness. He felt her spread her legs beneath him, and then she was guiding him into her once more.
11: Sally
She woke with a smile on her face, feeling like it was permanently attached.
Sunlight streamed through the open window. She hadn’t even heard the rooster this morning. She lay next to him, their bodies entwined as if two vines had grown perfectly together so that one was indistinguishable from the other.
Her fingers spread across the soft, downy hair of his chest as it rose and fell with his sleeping breath. She wanted to lie here, their bodies coiled together, forever. She didn’t want to wake him, and part of her wondered if maybe she were still asleep. Maybe he had never stumbled down from the road after all, and this was just some cruel dream that her mind had concocted.
If so, it was the most wonderful dream she had ever had. No man had ever taken her like that before. Maybe that was the wrong way of putting it. Because they had taken each other. They had laid each other bare and somehow fused from two into one.
Sally had never felt anything like—
The clop-clop of a horse came from far away, moving toward the house.
Oh shit, she thought, patting Logan on the chest to wake him.
He opened his eyes and lifted his head. “What’s going on?”
“Someone’s coming,” she said. “Just don’t move and don’t say a word until I come back inside.”
He nodded, a smile on his face. She couldn’t help but smile back. Despite the danger, last night had been incredible, and she couldn’t help but feel good.
She swung her feet over the side of the bed. Her skirt was on the floor, but where was her blouse? Right. In the other room, where she’d pulled it off. That had felt good, to expose herself to him, to see his eyes scan her body with longing. But she had to concentrate now. Hopefully it was just one of her neighbors, come to check in or maybe get a few eggs despite the ever-present threat of Sturgess.
She got up and grabbed her skirt, fastening it around her waist. She pulled on her boots next, her bare breasts shifting around as she tugged them on. She glanced over at Logan, grinning at her from under half-lidded eyes, and she almost let out a laugh. She wanted to crawl back on top of him, to work her hand around his cock until it was hard again, and
then slide it up inside her and ride him all morning. But more pressing matters were at hand.
She ran into the main room, found her blouse on the floor, and pulled it over her head. Then she opened the front door to see red-headed Tommy Tanner sitting atop a gray horse. He was looking down at her wagon, and the travois hitched to the back.
Shit! she thought. After dragging Logan inside, she had come back out and unhitched Maisy, leading her back to the barn. But she hadn’t moved or disposed of the makeshift stretcher. She’d been too preoccupied with taking care of Logan.
“Howdy,” she said, and Tommy swiveled his head to look at her, a dumb, open-mouthed look on his face. He smiled at her, raising his hand.
“Howdy there,” he replied. “Um, Sheriff Hoskins asked me to ride up here to check on you.”
“Oh, everything’s just fine, Tommy,” she said, stepping out further onto the porch. “Just right as rain.”
“Well that’s good,” he said, climbing down awkwardly off his horse.
“Oh, there’s no need to get off your horse,” Sally said. “Just go on back and tell the Sheriff everything’s okay.”
“Actually, ma’am, I’m a little thirsty.”
She couldn’t let him go inside. He was a bit dim, but even Tommy would pick up the signs that Logan was inside, even if he couldn’t see into the bedroom.
“You know where the well is,” Sally said. “Just over there.” She pointed. “Help yourself. Nothing better than fresh well water.”
Tommy squinted at the well, and her heart began to sink. Was Logan really about to be hauled back in, found out by a deputy with as much common sense as a scarecrow?
He shifted his gaze from the well to the wagon. He pointed at the travois. “What’s this?”
“Oh, that,” she said. “I had to drag some wood. For the stove. It was too heavy to carry.”
“Huh,” Tommy said, taking of his hat and wiping the sweat off his brow. He was still squinting down at the travois. “Why didn’t you just put it in the back of the wagon?”
Damn it all to hell, Sally thought. Just let it go already. He was picking now to become a detective?
She forced out a little laugh. “I don’t know,” she said. “I thought I’d try this out, see if it was easier than lifting the wood up into the wagon. You know us ladyfolk don’t have much strength in our arms.”
He finally looked up from the travois to meet her eyes. She smiled at him, trying to look as harmless and natural as possible.
“Oh,” Tommy said. “Right.” Sally breathed an internal sigh of relief as he sauntered over to the well, pulled up a fresh bucket of water, and scooped up some with the beaten ladle. He slurped loudly as he drank, looking around. Then he took another gulp and dropped the ladle back in the bucket, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“You’re right, ma’am,” he said. “Tastes good.” Then he walked back up to where she stood on the porch and put his hands on his hips. “I reckon I should have a look around inside now.”
“Oh,” Sally said. “I’d rather you not. The house is a mess. I have…womanly items tossed about.”
He squinted at that, presumably trying to imagine exactly what these womanly items might be and what they might look like. “I don’t know, Miss Macintosh. The Sheriff told me I should,” and here he began saying each word slowly, enunciating every one, as if he were back in grade school, “survey the property and its surroundings for anything peculiar.”
Sally figured he’d probably spent a good deal of the ride up here repeating that phrase over and over in his head. She walked down the steps, smiled, and touched his forearm lightly. He looked down at her fingers, resting on his skin.
“Now Tommy,” she said. “You boys have been over every inch of my place with a fine-toothed comb already. There’s no way you could have missed anything, don’t you think? You’re far too clever for that.”
“Yes, ma’am. But—”
“You really think an escaped convict would show up here so many days after getting out? Why I heard you boys even scoured the county with Meachem's bloodhounds and didn't find a thing. He’s long gone, Tommy. That’s just common sense, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. But—”
“And even if by some stretch of improbability he happened to show up at my door, don’t you think the first thing I’d do is let you fellas know?”
“I’m sure you would, ma’am,” he said, looking more confused than ever.
She ran her finger along the length of his forearm, feeling the goosebumps pop up there.
“Just go on back and tell the Sheriff everything is hunky dory,” she said. “I’m sure he’ll commend you for doing a fine job.”
Tommy seemed to think about it, then nodded his head. “Welp, okay then.” He climbed back up on his horse, turned, and tipped his hat. “Thank you for your time. Oh, and the delicious water.”
“You’re welcome,” she said.
“And sorry if I disturbed you.”
“You didn’t, Tommy,” she said. “Come back anytime. Maybe next time I’ll have a slice of homemade pie for you. Do you like peach?”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am. That’d be just fine. You have a good day now.” With that, he and his horse trotted back up the path to the main road.
Sally gave a heavy sigh, then sank to the porch steps. The front door opened, and she whirled. “What are you doing?” she said in a harsh whisper.
“Oh, he’s gone,” Logan said, nodding up to the road, where Tommy was a fading dot, a trail of dust behind him. “Come on back inside. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“You mean, like the work we did last night?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
He smiled. “That’d be nice, but unfortunately, no. I mean work work.”
She frowned dramatically. “That’s too bad,” she said. She turned to look at the wagon, then back at Logan, standing there shirtless, his lower half wrapped in a bedsheet. She certainly felt as if she were in a dream, though it had almost made a quick turn back into nightmare territory. She had to get that travois out of sight. “Give me a few minutes,” she said. “Then I’ll be right in.”
She didn’t bother getting Maisy out of the barn. That was too much trouble. Instead, she broke down the travois, hoping she wouldn’t need it again anytime soon, and dragged the constituent parts into the barn. The wagon would be fine sitting out front for now. Logan wanted to get to work now, and that was fine by her. She didn’t know what he had in mind, but Doctor Gleeson’s words echoed in her head:
Don’t try to take on a man like Camden Sturgess. But if you do, make sure next time you have a plan.
What else had he said? Oh yes: He certainly will.
Sally hoped to God that Logan had a plan, because she surely didn’t. She hadn’t expected him to come back into her life, especially the way he had.
Lying to Tommy Tanner had been easy, easier than she would have thought. She’d always strived to be honest. But now she was harboring an outlaw, and she had to admit that she felt a rush of excitement. The one part that had been the easiest was telling Tommy that Logan was long gone. The first day after the escape she thought be might come back, but each day after it became easier and easier to believe he was never going to.
She climbed the steps and went inside. Logan was sitting at the table, dressed in another pair of William’s jeans and a faded brown shirt. Will’s old work boots showed from under the legs of the jeans.
“Good job with Tommy,” he said. “I heard everything.”
“Thanks,” she said, internally beaming at the compliment, from one criminal to another. “It was Tommy, though. I doubt I could have put the Sheriff off the scent.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “Something tells me you can be quite persuasive when you want to.”
She walked to the table and sat across from him. “So?”
“Do you have any paper?” he asked. “And something to write with?”
Paper? That was th
e last thing she’d expected him to ask for. She was about to open her mouth and tell him no, she didn’t have any paper, when she remembered the plans for both the house and the barn that Will had drawn up before starting work. She could see them in her mind’s eye, rolled up tubes of light brown paper, sitting high on the top shelf of the workbench in the barn.
“Actually, I do,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
Inside the barn, she stopped briefly to stroke Maisy before heading for the bench. There the scrolls rested, just where she remembered. She reached up, pausing, suddenly overtaken by the memory of William. He would sit at this desk, hunched over, drawing, planning for their future together, a future that would now never be. She felt tears well up in her eyes and forced them back. Where had that come from?
Well, you just made fierce love to another man in the house where you were going to live the rest of your life with William, she thought. There would be times like these, she realized, times when the memory of him would sneak up on her unexpectedly, maybe for the rest of her life. And that was okay. She didn’t feel guilt. She didn’t feel like she’d betrayed his memory in any real way. Maybe that made her a bad person, but she didn’t think so. Mostly she just felt sad. She missed him. And this feeling was okay, because she was more afraid of forgetting him altogether.
She wiped the tears from her eyes with the palm of her hand, then grabbed the papers down, sneezing at the dust that plumed up. She shook her head and turned to head back, before spotting the two pencils resting in a rusted can on the back corner of the bench. She snapped them up before leaving.
Back in the house, she handed the rolls of paper to Logan. He took the one on top and rolled it out. It was a blueprint of the barn, sketched out in clean lines, professionally done.
“Who made this?” Logan asked. “Did you hire someone?”
“No,” she said. “My husband Will did these.”
“Was he trained as an architect?”
She shook her head. “No. He taught himself.”
The Time-Traveling Outlaw Page 9