(Present)

Logan is sitting across the table from me, having asked me flat out if there was something I was holding back from him. How do I reply? Sometimes you tell a lie that is so big, it takes over your life. But the truth can take over too. And it too can destroy everything.

I need to buy time so I take a huge bite. That way, my mouth is full and I won’t have to reply. Yeah, I know. It’s lame and only gives me a few moments.

“I missed that,” he says as he watches me.

“You miss what?”

He shrugs his shoulder and replies, “I miss a woman who actually eats.”

“The women you date don’t eat?” I ask.

“Well, to be fair it’s not really dating. But whenever I’m out with a woman and food’s involved it’s a salad. And not even the big meaty kind. They eat like rabbits.”

“Yeah and I eat like a damn trucker. Sorry,” I reply as I take another big bite.

He smiles. “No, don’t be sorry. Like I said, I miss that. You always took big shameless bites and drink beer or whiskey, no fruity drinks for you. I always liked that about you,” he says as he bites into his burger.

“I wanted to be more ladylike but it’s your fault that I wasn’t—you kept taking me to places with some really good food. I had a date a few months back and we went out for taco fusion,” I mock.

“What the hell is that?”

“You know how tacos are good and filling?”

“Yeah.”

“Well some idiot thought it would be a good idea to make one that wasn’t good, wasn’t filling, and added chopped pineapples on top. Then had the nerve to charge thirty bucks for three,” I reply as I take yet another bite.

“Wow, not a good idea.”

“Exactly. But that’s nothing, I once went to a restaurant in SOHO because it had all these great reviews on Yelp. But when I got there, I found out they were under new management and they had changed their menu. So now, instead of meat, fat, and sugar, the way God intended, Kat and I were left with green healthy crap with alfalfa sprouts on top. Damn hippies,” I reply bitterly.

“Did they put avocado on every menu item?” he asks.

“Yes! How did you know that?”

“I’ve had some of that stuff and you were right to stay away,” he replies.

“Look, I love a good avocado every now and then but let’s not make a religion out it. If we are turning any food into a religion that must be praised, we need to start with—”

“Bacon!” he replies before I can.

“Yes! You know me so well,” I reply.

“Yeah, that’s how I know you’re stalling,” he says.

“Oh.”

“I also remember the bacon thing because you’re the only woman I ever dated who threatened to leave me outright for cured meat,” he teases. We down our burgers and fries in mildly comfortable silence. I think he’s trying to allow me to ease into what I have to say. Or maybe he’s not sure he wants to hear it after all. We’re down to our drinks and now we’re both just picking at the leftover fries.

“Hey, how’s Kat doing? I get the feelings she’s a little stressed out. Is she okay?” he asks.

“Aside from the stuff happening at the center, which worries her, she’s also kind of had it with her husband,” I admit.

“Sam? What’s he done to her?” he asks, concerned.

A warm feeling washes over me. He was always so concerned about the people around him.

“Nothing. That’s the problem,” I reply suggestively.

“Oh,” Logan says.

“I can’t go into details, but let’s just say, she’s aiming for raging wildfire and getting a few sparks at best. She found a quiz online that’s supposed to help jump-start their sex lives.”

“Aw man, I hate those damn things! I swear the writers made up all that shit to keep us men from getting laid.”

“That’s not true.”

“The hell it isn’t. I don’t know one guy who had sex with a woman after being forced to take a quiz.”

“The quizzes are not designed to trick you men but to help us get inside your head,” I inform him.

“What’s to get? We live. We love. We fuck. That’s about it,” he jokes. “What kind of quiz is it? One of those ‘what does she like in bed’ tests?”

“Yeah.”

“Well maybe poor old Sam has a chance. It’s those fucking ‘how romantic is your guy’ quizzes that have been giving guys blue balls for centuries.”

“He might be taking one of those too.”

“Damn, that sucks,” he says. “Good thing you never handed me of those romance quizzes, I’m pretty sure I would have failed miserably.”

“I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have taken the test.” I laugh.

“I would have.”

“What? No! You would never have done that.”

“For you? I would have done anything. I would have bitched about it and tried to distract you so you’d forget about the dumbass test, but yeah, Anika, I would have taken the test for you.”

When he calls me by my first name, it’s like a soothing balm to my fractured heart. He’s the only one who can make my first name sound sexy and sacred. When he first called me that, it sent ripples of longing down by body. And now, it has the very same effect.

“I would have failed at it since I always sucked at that romance shit,” he replies.

“What are you talking about? You were very romantic,” I remind him.

“Shay, you don’t have to spray perfume on shit for me. I know I sucked at the romance thing.’”

“No, you didn’t. I mean it. Romance isn’t just flowers and pink cards. It’s so much more than that. When it really mattered, you came through for me in the romance department.”

“And how did I do that?” he asks in disbelief.

“I had walking pneumonia and you took me to the hospital and paid for everything.”

“We’re not talking about that stuff. We’re talking about the crap that’s in the movies. The roses and rain shit.”

“Screw the movies. You know what’s romantic? Health insurance,” I reply. He laughs.

“I’m serious, Logan! I was young and broke and you took me to the doctor. You took care of me.”

“Even if that is considered romantic, I think it’s less so when you try to pay me back,” he says.

“Maybe but there were other ways you were romantic. The way you’d stop everything—even for a moment—when I entered the room. The way we’d finish saying good-bye but you always took just one last look, like you hated leaving me. The way you’d call in the middle of the day and say ‘Hey, you…’ That’s all it took. The calls would only last a few minutes but just hearing you say ‘Hey you…’ it made me feel like…”

“Like what?”

“Like you were there with me. We had each other’s backs. We were a team. And if I had a great day or an awful one, I knew that when it was all over, you’d still be there. You never needed poems or stuffed animals to show me you cared. Your eyes and your actions told me everything I needed to know.”

“Then what the hell happened between us?” he demands as he backs away from the table and stands up. His frustration is palpable.

“I thought you wanted to stay focused on the present and not go back to the past.”

“Yes, that’s what I should be doing. I should be drawing clear lines with you but I don’t know how to do that. Just like I don’t know how to stop wanting you. And it’s really messing with my head.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry, I want to know why things ended up the way they did. Wyatt thinks that there’s something you’re not telling me. Is there?”

“It’s…it’s kind of complicated,” I reply, with no idea how to start.

“Just talk to me. It takes so much effort to stay away from you. I want to know what’s going on with you, when was the last time you laughed so hard you could barely breathe. What’s the song you can’t get out of your head today because I know with you, there is always a song.

“How did you convince a scared, abused woman to find strength she didn’t even know she had and go after the person who hurt her? I save a life here and there but that’s nothing compared to what you do. You get to help women save themselves. That’s fucking amazing! Did you tell her a story, did you find some dream she forgot she had, did you give it back to her like you did with Martha? I want to know all about you and what I’ve missed.

“And God help me but I can’t go another second being this close to you without laying hands on you. I saw the look in your eyes when I didn’t embrace you when we first met back in your office. Do you know how fucking hard that was? Do you know what I would give to be inside you just one more time?

“Jesus, even the way you sigh turns me on. The way you bite your lower lip and look at me like you’ll fucking die if I don’t take you in my arms…it’s killing me!” he shouts angrily as he moves closer. I look into his face, at his turbulent expression.

He reaches out for me and places his hand on the side of my face. When our eyes lock, it’s like no time has passed. He gently tucks a stray hair behind my ears. He speaks again but the anger has died down and is now replaced with an earnest, anguished tone. “Baby, what happened to us?”

***

Shay (Three years ago)

The cabin is perfect. It’s rustic and yet has all the amenities. Our first night here, we’ve taken in the amazing sky full of stars, the clean air, and the breathtaking woodsy landscape. Sex is on our minds for sure but there’s no pressure from him. He’s so easygoing and laid back, it’s a totally different side of him, compared to how he is in the city.

Later in the evening, after dinner, I follow him into his large marble grey-and-white master bathroom. The calm color palette and tasteful décor isn’t what I expected but it damn sure is gorgeous. The sleek walk-in shower could easily fit four people. The sunken marble tub is just cozy enough for two. And it’s filled with warm bubbling water, thanks to the multiple jets below.

“Wow, this place just keeps getting nicer,” I whisper.

“Thanks. I figured you’d like to take a bath and relax a little,” he says.

“Yes, I would, thank you.” He nods and heads for the door. The thought of him walking away from me causes me far more distress than I care to admit.

“You’re leaving?” I ask. He gazes in such a way it makes my knees weak and my panties moist.

A wicked smile appears on his face as he looks me over. “Trust me, that’s not what I want. But you’ve had a long day and three glasses of wine, so…maybe you’re not thinking straight.”

“Maybe not but I’m willing to risk it,” I reply as I lean in closer and mesh my lips with his. I slide my tongue between his lips; he growls and places his hands on my hips. The more we kiss, the tighter he holds me against him. He pulls away slowly, and I moan like a wounded animal when our lips stop touching. He rakes his eyes over my body, bites his lower lip, and swears under his breath.

“You are gonna be the fucking death of me,” he says. I lean in closer and kiss his neck. I can feel his member growing. It scares and excites me. I want every inch of him but my desire doesn’t outweigh my reluctance. He can tell.

“I would give anything I own to get in that tub with you. But I’m trying really hard not to be…greedy. You deserve a guy who will take his time, and I want that guy to be me.”

“Okay,” I reply, suddenly very embarrassed and shy. The sting of rejection must be showing on my face because he grows concerned. I look away.

“Hey, look at me,” he says, but I can’t. I feel stupid now. My “sexy, grown woman” moment is gone. He doesn’t think I can handle him and maybe he’s right. All these years I said I held on to my virginity because I didn’t find anyone I wanted to share it with and now that I have someone, I can’t. I worked so fucking hard to get out of the shadow of all the awful things I saw growing up. But it didn’t matter because here I am, standing in paradise with the man I want, and I’m too fucking broken to be what he needs.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble pitifully.

“Sorry for what?”

“If you had any other woman here, you two would already be…”

“Please stop worrying about that.”

“You shouldn’t be with me, you should be with someone who doesn’t have so many fucking hang-ups. Someone who didn’t watch her mother being…someone who isn’t a lost cause.”

“You have it all wrong,” he insists as he tries to turn my head to face him. I can’t take this shit; it’s too embarrassing and pathetic.

If this were a novel, I’d yell at the damn woman and say, “Fuck the shit out of him already!” But this is real life; it’s messy.

“Hey, come back to me,” he says, shifting his head so that I am forced to have eye contact with him now.

“This was a mistake,” I reply. That hurts him. I can see him wince slightly. “No, I didn’t mean we are a mistake, I meant me, trying to be that girl.”

“What girl?” he asks.

“You know, the one that turns you on and makes you want to jump her bones and fuck her all night. I don’t have that kind of…effect on you,” I reply with my head down. God, let this day be done already.

He smiles down at me. “Are you making fun of me?” I ask, bewildered.

“You really don’t have any idea, do you? You don’t know what you do to me. Wow, that just made you even sexier,” he says almost to himself.

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

“Do you know how many girls I have brought here?” he asks.

“I don’t need to—”

“Zero. I don’t bring anyone here. But you’re not just anyone.”

“If you were with another girl, you two would be having sex already but I’m slowing you down.”

“If I was with another girl, I’d be having a lot of sex. But that’s not what I want from you.”

“Meaning?”

“Anika, fucking is great! And God knows it’s a lot of fun. But I can fuck any girl. I want to make love to you. I want to do that because for the first time in my life, I found someone who makes me want to be a better man. And I want us to wait not just because you’re not ready. But because I’m scared as fuck that I will mess this up. I’ve never had anything this beautiful or this valuable in my life and I don’t want to damage it. I don’t want to love you wrong. I need time too; I need time to deserve you…”

“You already do but I get it. I guess we can wait on making love,” I reply.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we have to be saints,” he says with a suggestive smile. We begin to kiss wildly as he strips my clothes off. When he has me stark naked, and throbbing from his touch, he picks me up and places me in the tub. He puts his hands all over my body as he washes me. His touch makes me vibrate from the inside out.

He takes a strand of hair from my face and pins it behind my ear. He brushes his hand against my cheek and a shiver runs down my spine. When he glides his finger across my lips, I take it into my warm, wet mouth, never breaking eye contact. He groans. “You’re such a bad girl…” he says thickly.

I release his finger from my hold and dip his hand in the bathwater pooling between my legs. He makes his way through the soft current of rushing water and slides his fingers along my opening. I inhale sharply as his large, nimble fingers invade my slippery, pulsating center. My body quickens as he slides his thumb along my swollen clit. I gasp and arch my back as he continues to journey up and down my engorged tip.

He inserts two fingers inside me and right away, I begin to grind against them. I don’t even know how the fuck I know to do that but I do. I arch my back and thrust into his hands. He watches me gyrating my hips back and forth as my breasts bounce in rhythm. The sensations are too much and yet I need more. He moves his fingers along my slippery walls and cause friction as he taps on my G spot. My body grinds against him even harder. I’m on the edge.

Shit!

His eyes are glazed over as he growls with a mix of lust and longing. My body is beyond stimulated, I’m going over the edge and he knows it. “Don’t come, baby, I need to drink from you.” I nod. He picks me up from the bath in one fell swoop and carries me over to the bedroom. And without warning or warm up, he hikes me up in the air, placing me high up against the wall so that my legs are draped over his shoulders. He holds me in place with a firm hand while he laps up my juices with his tongue. As passion swells throughout my body, he brings his head up and speaks in a thick, hazy ecstasy. “Damn, baby, you taste like honey and sin.” He buries his face between my legs again.

It doesn’t take long before the entire world shrinks down to two things: my clit and his tongue.

“Holy shit!” I cry as my body stands on the verge of the abyss. My quivering thighs and spasms only increase his need to suckle. He drinks from me as if he were in a vast desert and my sex was the first spring he’s come across in days. He explores between my legs like it’s his first expedition: he’s relentless and thorough. The tip of his tongue serves as his flag. He plants it on top of my clit over and over again until I’m convulsing and howling in ecstasy. “Logan! Baby, please! Please!”

I’m writhing against the wall, trying to squeeze my legs closed because the ecstasy I feel is just too fucking good but he won’t let me close off his access. He’s not done drinking; he’s still thirsty. The orgasms roll in, each one bigger than the last. I beg for mercy but instead of letting me go, he spreads my legs wider. He taps the tip of my clit with the tip of his tongue.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“OHSHIT!”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Logannomore! Please.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

My body spasms, my eyes roll to the back of my head, and I gush like a geyser. The room fades to black…