Chapter Nine

 

I left the men on the deck catching up over a drink as I busied around the kitchen. Logan and I had lingered so long over lunch and ambled back so slowly it was getting near dinnertime. I’d had plans of building up our appetite further but Brick had put paid to that, much to my intense irritation.

I took three steaks from the fridge, prepared a hickory marinade the way Aunt Belinda had taught me when I was eight years old, and set about scrubbing baking potatoes and mixing up a cheesy, sour cream dressing to pour over them.

“Hey, sweetie.” Logan wound his arms around my waist and pulled my back against his chest.

I tipped my head into the crook of his shoulder so he could kiss my neck.

“You doin’ all right in here?” he asked, his hot breath trickling down my skin.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I’m sorry he arrived so early.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but I’m still sorry.” He gave a little groan. “But it hurt me more than it hurt you.”

“Are you okay now?”

“I was until I just smelled that coconut stuff you use in your hair. Mixed with your perfume, it’s the best smell ever and I’m in discomfort again.”

I spun in his arms and hooked my hands behind his neck, glancing out the door. Brick was draining his bottle and staring out to sea. “Is it really bad?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s really bad. So don’t expect me to have much stamina later on, not after I’ve been this hard for you all afternoon.” His lips connected with mine and as the malt of beer seeped onto my tongue, he pressed his erection into my stomach.

“I may have to make love to you twice, or even three times to get it out of my system,” he said into my mouth.

My knees weakened and I clung to him as sexy flutters spread in waves over my skin. “Only three times?” I asked, surprised by how husky my own voice sounded.

“Well that’s just tonight, it doesn’t include the morning before we catch the plane. Maybe we ought to consider joining the mile-high club too.”

“Got any more of these?” Brick appeared by Logan’s shoulder with a broad grin on his face.

“Sure, help yourself.” Logan said, releasing me.

“Want one?” Brick stooped to the fridge.

“Nah, I’ve had my fill,” Logan said. “I’m gonna take off for a run.”

“I’m making you a steak,” I said.

“Awesome,” he smiled and winked. “I’ll be half an hour, okay?”

“Sure.” I matched his smile, I couldn’t help it, it was how he made me feel. Happy.

 

*****

 

I put the steaks into the marinade and wiped the deck table, set out napkins and cutlery, three tall glasses and a jug of water crammed with ice, lemons and lime. The potatoes were in the oven, crisping up, and I had no intention of cooking the steak until Logan had returned and showered.

I picked up a small pair of scissors from the kitchen and wandered onto the deck. Brick was lounging on the bed reading Hockey Today and I walked past him and around the dense patch of shrubbery where I’d seen the orange flowers. They had long stems and would be perfect in a vase at the center of the table.

I snipped three, pleased with their scent, studying the delicate fanned petals and long stamen heavy with globs of pollen.

I felt a presence behind me and turned, half expecting Logan back from his run.

It was Brick.

He stood, silhouetted by the sinking sun, feet apart and arms crossed. “Looks like you’ve done a great job with Phoenix,” he said.

“What do you mean?” I asked, turning to the flowers again and wondering why his voice gave me a chill when the evening was so sultry.

“He looks back in control, really relaxed.” I sensed Brick stepping closer, felt his shadow cool the backs of my legs.

“We’ve had a good week. I think he is really relaxed.” I snipped another stem.

“You’ve worked hard then.”

“I beg your pardon.” I turned and was surprised to see Brick much closer than I thought he’d be. My nose nearly touched his t-shirt.

“Fergal said there was a woman here taking his mind off things. Cheering him up. Getting him back in the zone.”

I stepped hastily backward into the flowers.

His gaze dropped to my breasts again. “You’ve worked hard, Brooke.”

“I haven’t worked at anything. Logan is a great guy.”

“Logan, eh? Everyone else calls him Phoenix, you know.”

“Well, he asked me to call him Logan.” I paused. “He’s more than just a dumb jock, you know.” I gave Brick the kind of look that suggested that was exactly what I thought of him.

“I would have thought dumb jocks were right up your street, especially ones with six-figure salaries.” His eyebrow twitched. “Ones who pay for services.”

I squeezed my fingers so tight around the flower stems I felt them crush then weep their sticky sap into my palm. “What are you talking about?” Brick was rapidly becoming my least favorite person in the Universe. His vague but unnervingly accurate suggestion about my initial financial reason for being here was too close for comfort—far too close.

“I’m just saying it’s nice work if you can get it. There must be a lot of job satisfaction for you.” He smirked and stepped even closer. “Satisfaction in every sense of the word.” Suddenly he wound his hands around my waist and snapped me up against his huge, hard body.

I dropped the scissors and the flowers. “Get off me!” I squirmed, looking up at his boyish face. It was set hard as stone and his green eyes flashed dangerously. “You have no idea about my relationship with Logan, or what you’re talking about.” I put my hands on his chest and tried to shove him away. But he didn’t move, it was like trying to shift a mountain.

“I think I do, Brooke, I think I know exactly why you’re here.”

“No, get off me, I’m not interested in you. I’m with Logan.”

“Oh, don’t be shy.” His brow furrowed as he snaked one hand up my spine, cradled my skull and dropped his head lower. “I’m sure he’ll share you.”

I could smell beer on his breath. It wasn’t sweet like Logan’s, it was sour and ugly.

I banged clenched fists onto his chest and pushed harder, twisting my head to get away from his face, his smell, his words.

“Let me have a bit of what’s on offer,” he murmured a second before he pressed his mouth down on mine. Hard and strong, his tongue flat and wet.

I squeezed my lips tight and squealed deep in my throat, wriggling my body against his embrace and twisting my neck. But Brick was so strong and so solid it was no good. Even when I tried to drop my entire body weight he just held me up in the air.

“Come on, Brooke,” he said, lifting his head a fraction and studying my eyes. “There might even be a little extra something in it for you.”

“Get the hell off me, you moron,” I shouted, drawing back my foot to ram into his shin. I was going to make him wish fate had never brought him my way, even if it did cost me my toes.

But before I could release my anger, a sudden flash of movement roared from my left. Brick released me and he went flying sideways with a deep grunt as I tumbled to the ground with a yelp of surprise.

My knees and palms slapped onto the sand and the breath was banged from my chest. I pushed hair from my face and looked up. Logan and Brick were tumbling in a lock of limbs and big bodies in the deepest, driest sand.

“Logan,” I shouted, jumping to my feet.

Like a giant, dusty whirlwind they toppled across the beach away from me. Arms and legs flailing. Shouts, grunts and curses filling the air. I heard the sickening thud of flesh on flesh and air being forced from someone’s lungs.

“Logan.” I ran toward them, stumbling in craters of powdery sand. “Logan, stop.”

The movements came to a halt as quickly as they’d started. Logan was on top of Brick. Brick was splayed on his stomach with his face pressed into the sand. Logan had twisted one of his arms right up his back in a very unnatural-looking position.

“Get the fuck off me,” Brick seethed, squirming and twisting like a captured animal. “You fucking idiot, Phoenix, get off.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t break your shoulder blade and then do the other one just for fun, you ignorant piece of—” Logan snarled into his ear.

“Logan, please.” I ran over and sank to my knees. I looked at Brick’s face, contorted in agony. His eyes were screwed tight and bubbles of spit sat around the corners of his mouth. His nostrils flared as he breathed hard and fast and hundreds of grains of sand clung to his cheek. I didn’t like the guy one bit but I didn’t want to see him physically harmed—that would be bad for everyone’s karmas. “Logan, let him go.”

Logan looked at me through narrowed eyes, his face red and hot. “From where I stood it looked like he was trying to kiss you, trying to kiss you against your will.”

“That’s exactly what happened but let him go, he’s got the message now.”

“Yeah, let go, Phoenix, it’s not fucking funny anymore.” Brick grunted as he writhed under Logan’s weight. He yelped as his shoulder stayed fixed and Logan dropped even more weight on it.

“There’s something you gotta do first,” Logan said through gritted teeth.

“What, for fuck’s sake, what?” Brick whimpered as Logan pushed his head and squashed his face farther into the beach.

“Apologize to Brooke.”

“What?” Brick opened his eyes then blinked rapidly as sand avalanched toward his face.

“Apologize to Brooke for thinking she’d be interested in a sorry dumbass like you.”

Brick clenched his teeth. “Sorry,” he said. “Now get the hell off me, Phoenix.”

“No, I’m not done with you yet.”

Brick squirmed in anger and kicked his feet. Sand flew upward and sprayed over Logan’s back.

“Apologize to me now.”

“What the hell for?”

Logan dropped his head down to Brick’s ear. “For kissing my woman.”

“What?”

“You heard. Brooke’s with me, get used to it.” He shoved at Brick’s arm, creating more tension and getting another yelp out of Brick. “Now apologize to me for trying to take what’s mine before I whoop your sorry ass into next year and you have to miss the rest of this season and all of next.”

“Sorry, I’m fucking sorry, okay.”

“Say it nicely.”

Brick dragged in a breath. “Sorry,” he said, quieter. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t realize you’d hooked up.”

Logan sprang to his feet, releasing Brick as quickly as he’d pinned him down.

Brick groaned and rolled to his back, grasping his tormented left shoulder. He squinted at Logan through the low sun. “What did you have to fucking do that for, you know my shoulder’s been giving me shit.”

Logan shrugged. “I forgot.” He put his arm around my waist and helped me to my feet. “But don’t forget, Brooke’s with me so keep your hands, your mouth, your eyes and every other part of your anatomy under control when you’re in her company.”

“Yeah, okay.” Brick pushed to his feet with a grimace and started brushing sand from his clothes. “Shit, man, these are new.”

“And she doesn’t like cursing either,” Logan said. “So keep your mouth clean.”

Brick swiped his hands together then ran his fingers through his tight nest of sand-filled curls.

“Got it?” Logan said.

“Yeah, got it,” Brick muttered and looked me in the eyes. “She’s yours and she don’t like cursing.”

I studied his green eyes and pulled in an apprehensive breath. I thought I might see hate, or anger, or even revenge in their depths. But to my relief I didn’t, they were resigned, surrendered. I sought out his aura. It was a startling shade of bottle green, a few flecks of hazelnut brown, but nothing major. I hoped that would be the last of the matter. Logan and I were together, that’s what he’d said, and I wouldn’t be taking any money for having spent the week in his bed, no way, so whatever the heck Brick had insinuated, it was all wrong.

 

*****

 

Brick had a swelling on his left cheekbone and I gave him a bag of ice to press against it as I cooked the steaks. Logan had reopened part of the gash on his forehead and I angled a bandage over it to hold the skin together. He didn’t want me to, but the small tear wouldn’t stop dripping blood into his eye so in the end, to eat his steak without the irritation of bleeding, he had no choice but to let me have a go at patching it up.

By the time we’d finished the meal, Logan and Brick were chatting as if nothing had happened. As though they hadn’t just pummeled each other on the beach, had a good go at breaking limbs, dislocating joints and drawing blood. They laughed about a pounding Yusof took midweek, scoffed at the ineptitude of refs and trash-talked every other team in the league.

Brick was complimentary of the food and kept his eye-line at a respectable level. When everyone had finished he went so far as collecting up the plates and loading the dishwasher.

“You okay?” Logan asked when we were alone in the moonlight.

“Yes, fine,” I said, looking into his shadowed face.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that earlier.” He reached for my hand across the table. “Really I am.”

I shrugged. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. But he’s just a kid. He lets his hormones rule his head but he’s decent underneath as long as I keep him in check.”

“You have a very novel way of doing that.”

“It’s the language he speaks.” Logan shrugged.

I was glad it wasn’t my language. It looked painful.

“He won’t bother you again, though, none of them will.”

“Who do you mean?”

“The other players, when you meet them. Brick’s got a big mouth, bigger than his brain, and he’ll whine for days that I slapped his sorry butt just for talking to you.”

“But you know it was more than talking, don’t you?”

“Of course, I know what I saw and believe me, Brick got off lightly ’cause I just happen to be fond of the little twerp. I’ve been like a big brother to him since he joined the team.” His face darkened. “But anyone else wouldn’t have walked away. Anyone else who tried to touch you against your will would need an ambulance at the very least.”

He clenched his fist over my hand and I reached to uncurl his fingers. “Does that mean none of your teammates will ever speak to me?”

Logan smiled and relaxed his fingers. “No, not at all, they’ll know Brick was up to no good, they’ll figure there’s more to the story than what he says.”

“Good, ’cause I wouldn’t want to feel like a total outcast.” I tapped at a mosquito that had been hassling my calf for the last ten minutes. “Missed again,” I said with a sigh. “I think I’ll head to bed. I’m tired.”

“Not too tired, I hope.” Logan tilted my chin with his finger and rubbed his thumb into the crease below my bottom lip.

“No,” I smiled. “Not too tired.”

 

*****

I didn’t have to wait long for Logan to come to me. When he did he flicked the lock on my bedroom door and stepped out of his shorts as he walked across the room. He grinned and sat naked on the bed with his back braced against the padded headboard.

“Hey,” I said, happily abandoning my anatomy book and turning to face him on the soft pillow.

“Hey, yourself.” His eyes twinkled down at me through the dim, buttery light spreading from my bedside table.

“You gonna snuggle down?” I asked, eyeing the thick erection only inches from my face.

“Mmm, there’s an idea,” he said, wrapping his hand around my entire upper arm. “But how about you come up here?” He licked his lips and tugged me. “Come up and sit on me.”

I crawled onto my hands and knees, shucking off the sheet to expose my own nakedness.

“You got a condom this time?”

His gaze drifted down my body, lingering on my swaying breasts and hardening nipples. “Yeah,” he said, reaching one from the bedside table.

Taking the red wrapped condom from his hand, I angled the corner into my teeth and tore at the wrapper. Blowing out the tiny piece of foil that remained in my mouth, I slowly licked the rubbery, artificial taste of strawberry from my top lip.

His mouth slackened. “That was so sexy,” he said, shaking his head.

“Mmm.” I straddled his legs just below his knees. “Then I think you’ll like this even more.” I took hold of his shaft and treated him to a long, slow stroke right up to the velvet head and back down to the base. His stomach tensed and his cock twitched. I took out the condom and placed it over his flushed head. Pinched the end of the latex and rolled it over the crest of his cock until it rounded the deep ridge of his glans. I smiled up at him, then tipped forward, tensed my mouth and used my taut lips to roll it the rest of the way down his engorged shaft.

“Ahh, sweetie, you’ve just invented the best way to put one of these damn things on.” He scooped my hair onto the top of my head, his fingers gentle and tickling.

I kept on gliding downward, my fingers helping unfurl the condom as his thick head slid over my tongue, over my palate and finally hit the back of my throat. I dragged in ribbons of air as my nose settled in his coarse pubic hair. I adored the feel of him in my mouth, I felt so full, so in control, and as he invaded my senses with his smell, his taste and his texture it was like a wild ride to heaven.

“Come here,” he said, wrapping his hands around my shoulders and physically lifting me.

I had no choice but to let him slip from my mouth as he tugged my body up.

“I’m supposed to be working on stamina and you’re going to undo all that hard work.”

My eyes came level with his and I rested my hands on the tight strips of muscle between his neck and shoulders, then shuffled up his legs to straddle his wide hips. His shaft pressed against my pubic hair and my body clenched in anticipation of having him inside me, soon, real soon.

“You feel so good sitting on me,” he said.

“You feel so good in me,” I murmured, pressing my lips to his.

His tongue probed for mine as he dipped his fingers down between my legs.

I gasped into his mouth as he parted my folds and pushed in. “God, you’re so wet, so wet and hot,” he whispered.

“I’ve been lying here…thinking.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“You…doing stuff to me.” I’d also been thinking about Brick and what he’d implied about my being in the villa. The way he’d grabbed me and thought I would be up for a little extra business with him. But those worries left me now as Logan added another finger, hooked the tips forward and rubbed that little pad of flesh in a way that always dragged a groan from my stomach whether I wanted it to or not.

“You been thinking about me doing this to you?” he asked, ducking his head to kiss my collarbone.

“Yes, and other stuff.”

“Mmm, I need details,” he said.

“And I was thinking about how you make me feel.” I wondered if maybe I should tell him the truth about my deal with Fergal.

“And how is that, Brooke. How do I make you feel?”

How was it he always seemed to ask me questions at the same time as he was distracting me? “You make me feel good.”

“Just good?”

I tipped my pelvis forward as the heel of his hand caught my clit. “More than good,” I confessed. “Amazing.” I pulled my head back and focused on his face. “I want to make you feel amazing too.”

His eyes shot blue flames of desire from their depths. “Just a smile from you makes me feel amazing.”

I slid my hand up his neck and cupped his cheeks with my palms. I lifted upward and his hand slid from my pussy. “So in theory this should blow your mind,” I whispered as I positioned myself over his cock.

“Promise me you’ll pick up the pieces.”

“I promise,” I said, dropping down just an inch. At that moment I would have promised him anything, from my favorite set of crystals to my soul.

I slowly sat the rest of the way until he was buried as deep inside me as he could go. The hot flesh of his cock burned right through me, sending a shiver up my spine and over my scalp. Every cell in my body was focused on him and how he made me feel so sexy and so hungry for more.

“Oh God,” Logan groaned as he settled his hands in the dips of my waist. “You’re so tight, so tight and wet.”

I couldn’t answer so instead I stared into his eyes. Having Logan inside me was the most beautiful sensation I’d ever experienced. I wanted to tell him but words escaped me. I began a steady rhythm, part moving upward and part rocking forward on him. He slid his hands to my butt and held me, supporting my rhythm, murmuring approvingly.

My breathing got shallow and my head became almost too heavy to hold up. But I wanted to look at Logan’s eyes when he came and I wanted him to look into my eyes as I came, so I mustered my strength and pressed my forehead to his.

He let go of my butt and cupped my swinging breasts. “Keep fucking me like that, Brooke, don’t stop, keep fucking me, I like you fucking me, fuck me more.”

My hips were alive; this is what they had been designed for. I picked up the pace as the tightness of a growing orgasm twisted my insides. My breaths were jagged, my skin damp with perspiration. I was feverish for more friction and pressure and I accelerated, ignoring the creaking of the bedsprings and the rattling headboard.

He rolled my nipples, tugging them long and taut, tweaking and pulling. The edgy, nipping sensation tipped me over the precipice. Staring into his eyes, totally unblinking, I climbed the last few seconds to the point of no return. Every nerve in my pussy filled to the max until I reached a crescendo and came hard, fast and breathlessly, moaning deep in my belly, squeezing him tight and pulsing in a barrage of contractions, gripping his cock. I held his face like it was the edge of a cliff. “Logan. Oh God, Logan,” I whimpered onto his lips.

My hips continued to jerk against him, repeatedly crushing my clit. Another spasm zigzagged up my spine and ended in my teeth. I was fucking him so hard. His body was perfectly still and I was riding him like a rodeo champion. Taking my pleasure from his beautiful solid body in a way I never had before. It was liberating, overwhelmingly fulfilling and I was letting him witness every tiny fraction of my climax—there were no barriers, no walls—he was seeing me experience my most basic pleasure.

“Take what you need from me, sweetie,” he said, releasing my breasts and trapping my face in his hands the same way I was holding his. “I’m all yours.”

I carried on thrusting as the last pulses of exquisite sensation tore from my body and finally slowed. My spine sagged, my heart was trying to burst from my chest.

His hips jerked and I felt his cock twitch inside me. So thick, so engorged.

“What did you mean?” I asked, my lips a hairsbreadth from his. “In the café, when you said don’t fight it?”

His eyes held my steady focus as he slid his hands to my butt again. “Exactly that, don’t fight it.”

“Don’t fight what?” I dropped my hands to his shoulders as his palms urged me to start rocking again.

“Ahh, fuck, that’s nice,” he said. “Especially after I’ve just watched you orgasm so spectacularly.”

“Logan, don’t fight what?” I pulled back to look at his face contorting with pleasure as I resumed my fast, wild hip rolls.

“Don’t fight falling in love.” He took complete control of my movements, lifting me up and ramming me down as if I were a light little thing. His cock turned to steel and he impaled me over and over. “I’m…not…” he panted. “I’m not going to fight something that feels so right.” His head tipped back on the headboard and the cords in his neck jutted. His eyes squeezed shut and his jaw tensed so tight I feared for his teeth.

Then he lifted his head and opened his eyes. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Brooke.”

With a shuddering final upward blast of his hips and a slamming down of my body he erupted high inside me. I got to see right to his beautiful core, to the very bottom of his soul.

And I saw that he was, indeed, in love with me.