Chapter Fifteen
Logan sat quietly during lunch; hell, he didn’t have to say much. Tess and his mother were chattering away like old friends. They’d hit it off immediately, as he’d thought they would. How could anyone not like Tess? She was open, friendly, down-to-earth. And really smart. Annmarie liked that, he knew that as well as he knew her. Having been a middle school math teacher for twenty-five years, Annmarie was sharp as a tack, with a keen barometer for bullshit. Tess passed the bar with flying colors before she’d ever stepped foot in the house.
As Annmarie peppered Tess with questions about her job and New York, Logan ate and mused about the past six days. Two visits to the fertility clinic; the first one, he’d filled out a bunch of forms, had a quick basic physical exam, then been discreetly ushered into a cushy, private room to give up his sperm sample. He’d felt awkward and sat there for two minutes, mildly embarrassed at why he was there. Then he brushed it away, took a deep breath, and got down to business, looking at it as a job that had to be done, a simple task. All he had to do was think about Tess . . . how she’d felt beneath him, the taste of her mouth, the softness of her skin . . . and he’d been able to deliver the goods in record time.
The day after that, he’d gone to tell his mother about the new relationship he’d started, and how soon did she want to meet his new girlfriend? Even now, he couldn’t help but smile at the delighted, shocked look on Annmarie’s face. That alone had been worth the barrage of questions that followed. He hadn’t seen his mom that energized in months.
The next evening, he, Tess, and his mom had gone out to dinner at one of Annmarie’s favorite restaurants. Tess had just been herself, and Annmarie loved her immediately. The little things Tess had thrown in—touching his arm or hand here, dropping a quick kiss on his cheek there—had helped sell the premise. By the end of dinner, Annmarie was convinced they were a happy new couple, and her obvious joy filled him with relief. Yes, it was a lie. And he hated lying to anyone about anything, most of all his mother. But was it harming her, or anyone else? Dammit, she was happy. His dying mother was happy. Some white lies were worth it.
Now, as Tess answered questions about the Holiday Ball, he gazed at her. God, she was great. She was cool as could be, not overselling them as a couple, just being her fantastic self with the right additional amount of random gestures of affection. And she was so goddamn gorgeous, just looking at her made his blood heat. Dressed simply in an emerald green sweater, jeans, and knee-high tan riding boots, she was relaxed and chatty and exuded light. She didn’t seem like a haughty head of a huge New York City company or the precious sweetheart of a powerful billionaire family. She was just . . . normal. Both pleasant and enchanting in every way.
Playing the smitten boyfriend to her was easy as could be, because the fact was, he was crushing on her, he could admit that. But that was it. A little crush, a lot of lust, but mostly easy camaraderie. There was no pressure here; she was his friend now. It was amazing, all the way around.
She glanced over at him from beneath her lashes and smiled. “You’re staring,” she said flirtatiously.
“Can’t help it,” he replied. “You’re gorgeous.” Being able to say things like that was more fun than he’d ever cop to.
“Awww.” Tess’s smile bloomed as she said, “Back at you, Thor.”
He rolled his eyes and laughed. “Remind me to kick Ford’s ass for telling you that stupid nickname.”
“If the huge Norse-god shoe fits . . .” Tess let her voice trail off and winked.
Annmarie sighed a little. “You two are adorable. I love it.”
“Well,” Tess said to her, “thanks for making such an incredibly handsome son. I do enjoy looking at him. It’s a nice bonus, since he’s such a great guy.”
Damn, she was good at this. Logan warmed inside at her words; yeah, they were fake, but they were perfect, exactly the kind of thing his mom would like to hear. Flirting with her was fun. He reached for her hand and gave it a quick squeeze of approval. She winked at him again, then pulled her hand free to take another bite of her pasta salad.
Earlier that day, they’d had their second visit to the clinic. The test results were all in. His sperm were totally viable, passing all the markers. The whole package combined, apparently, made him a good candidate. It was a go, if they both agreed to it. The look of pure elation that washed over Tess’s face . . . her face flushed and her eyes shone with tears of joy. He’d been so happy for her happiness, he’d reached out and hugged her.
Then Tess and Dr. Fuller had an extensive conversation, which Logan sat and listened to without a word. It was Tess’s decision. However she wanted this to play out, he’d abide by it without question. Tess asked Dr. Fuller about their getting her pregnant the old-fashioned way, and the doctor was fine with it. She explained to both of them about the timeline; how having sex a few times before, during, and after the ovulation period would certainly tip the odds of conceiving in Tess’s favor. They could try it that way for a few months, and if Tess still wasn’t pregnant, they could embark on more direct, clinical methods. By the end of the appointment, Tess had made her decision. Logan would be her known donor, and they’d go about conceiving the natural way.
Then they’d gone back to his house to have lunch with his mom. And all he could think about was getting started. He knew that was a little weird; it’s not like they were dating and he couldn’t wait to get his new lover into bed for a romp. They’d be having sex for one reason only, a very set agenda and goal. But . . . yeah, getting to take this lovely woman to bed, and all the fun, erotic ways he could try to get her pregnant . . . it was mind-boggling to think about, actually. He was a little scattered . . . and eager, excited, nervous, all of that.
“Hey.” His mother’s voice cut into his thoughts, jostling him from his reverie. “Where are you?”
“Sorry.” He flashed a grin. “Just have some things on my mind, got lost in there.”
“You okay?” Tess asked.
“Great,” he assured her. He grasped her hand and lifted it to his lips, lightly kissing her knuckles. Her eyes held his for a long beat. An unspoken message passed between them, and a rush of color went to her face. Yeah, she was thinking about it too. A burst of liquid heat swept through him as he contemplated what lay ahead for them . . . the thought of having her . . . maybe even that very night, if she wanted to get started. God, he hoped she wanted to. He supposed he’d find out soon enough.
* * *
That evening, Tess had hoped a long soak in the tub would relax her, but it hadn’t worked. Her mind and body were all hyped up, anticipation holding her in its merciless grip. After a nice lunch at his mother’s house, Logan had driven her home.
“Will you come back tonight?” she’d asked, her voice feeling small in her throat.
“You want me to?”
“Yes, I want you to. I think . . . we can get started on our other secret project. If you want,” she added hastily. “If you don’t want to—”
“I want to.” His voice was low and deliberate as he admitted, “I’ve barely been able to think about anything else since we left the clinic.”
“Me too,” she confessed in a whisper. Her heart rate skyrocketed and her stomach did a wobbly flip. “So . . . what time is good for you?”
“Well, I put off work this morning to go to the clinic. I need to do some things now; they’ll take all afternoon, into dinnertime maybe . . .” He gently scratched at his beard as he thought, a gesture that was becoming endearingly familiar to her. “You have dinner without me, do your thing. I’ll come over at eight. Is that good for you?”
“Yup. I’ll see you then.”
All afternoon and evening, Tess’s mind had churned without stopping. So much to think about, so much to absorb. She was going to have her baby. It was so overwhelming and wonderful . . . and now, the icing on the cake, a pseudo-date with Logan. Entering into the process of trying to get pregnant by actually having sex, that was a fringe benefit she hadn’t counted on. To say it was thrilling was an understatement. Simply put, Logan was hot as hell.
She was excited, exhilarated, turned on, and a little giddy. But the nervousness overrode all that, and she wondered why. There was no reason to be nervous; she trusted Logan completely. He was a good man, and he’d be good to her in bed, she just knew that. She supposed it was just basic, anticipatory pre-sex jitters.
She wanted to get pregnant, yes. But she also wanted to please him. If he was going to be doing her the tremendous favor of having sex with her regularly, she wanted him to enjoy it. That was normal, wasn’t it?
She laughed at herself. Nothing about this situation was normal.
Standing in her bedroom in her warm, fluffy robe and slippers, she tried to decide on what to wear. Did she bother to get dressed, knowing why he was coming over? Did she wear lingerie, or was that overkill? Did she just stay naked under her robe, the easy access way? She huffed out a sigh of frustration. Why was this difficult to figure out? It wasn’t like she was going out with him first. They were just staying here, at her house . . . spending the night in bed and having sex.
Her face flamed as she thought about their short but sexy tumble last week on her couch . . . the way Logan’s hands and mouth had felt on her body. A little shiver went through her and she couldn’t help but smile. She turned back to her dresser with determination. Lingerie. Men liked lingerie. He was doing her the biggest favor ever. The least she could do was wrap up the package in pretty and make him smile.
At eight o’clock sharp, the doorbell rang. Bubbles barked and did her thing, racing to the door, as a new rush of excitement flooded Tess’s body. Oh God, oh God . . .
She opened the door and a whoosh of frigid air hit her. “Oh!” she gasped. “Whoa, it got cold out there!”
“It did.” Logan’s green eyes glittered beneath his wool cap, pulled low. His words came out on a white cloud. “Luckily, I finished up by seven.”
She grabbed his arm to pull him inside. “Jesus, even your coat is freezing!”
“Yeah, well,” he said, “it’s about five degrees out right now.”
“And you were working outside today?”
“Yeah. But then I went home, took a hot shower, ate. I’m fine, Tess.”
She looked him over. He wore a royal-blue parka over his regular outfit of fleece-lined hoodie, jeans, work boots, wool hat, and heavy gloves. His cheeks were ruddy from the cold, and the look on his face showed he was amused and a little confounded by her concern. So she grinned and said, “Okay, tough guy. Glad you’re here and inside now. Let’s get you warmed up.”
“Sounds good.” His eyes took on a playful sparkle. “Funny thing is . . . I can think of a few ways to do that.”
Her heart started beating a little faster. “Mmm. Me too.”
They stood there and grinned at each other, the air around them crackling.
“But how about we start with some hot tea?” she said.
“That’d be great, actually.” He pulled off his hat and gloves. Bubbles nuzzled his leg and let out loud, staccato barks. As he unzipped his parka, he crouched to pet her. “Hello there, little miss.” His large hand stroked across her fur and she licked his skin. “Kisses hello? Well, don’t I feel special.”
Tess smiled. The man was adorable with her dog. Total gold star for him. “Take off your coat, go sit by the fire and warm up. I’ll make you some tea.”
Ten minutes later, they sat together on the couch as he sipped some black chai tea. She noticed how his gray and green sweater set off his eyes, that pale mossy color she’d never seen on anyone else. The ends of his hair were still a little damp from his shower. His large, powerful frame took up space . . . actually, just his presence did. She liked that about him; her Viking hottie, big and commanding even when just sitting quietly. With a soft smile, she curled up into the arm of the plush couch, tucking her soft robe under her legs.
“So . . .” He cleared his throat. “How are you tonight?”
“Fine. Nervous, but fine.”
The corner of his mouth curved up. “Really? Well then, I’ll tell you the truth . . . I’m a little nervous too. I thought it was silly to be, but . . .”
She smiled. “Same here. Why are we nervous? It’s not like we’ve never done anything before. We’re friends, we like each other, we trust each other . . .”
“All that’s true. So I don’t know.” He sipped his tea. “Maybe because it’s not . . . I don’t know, an organic thing, how we planned this tonight? It’s not a natural progression, a spontaneous thing, like the other times we got carried away?”
“I guess.”
They sat in awkward silence for a minute. The fire crackled and popped in the fireplace. Bubbles crossed the floor and went to her doggie bed, circling around in it three times before flopping down.
“I trust you, Logan,” she said softly. She offered him a little grin. “It’ll be fine.”
His eyes warmed at that. “I’m glad. You can trust me, Tess.” He set the mug down on the glass coffee table, then turned to face her. He reached out his hand, open palm up, and she slipped her hand into his. “We’ll get this done. You’ll have your baby. One way or another. Just have faith.”
Her throat thickened from his gentle, supportive words. “Thank you.”
He smiled, then said, “Know what? Come here, but turn around. Sit with your back to me.”
Her brows furrowed as she looked at him, not knowing what he wanted. But she did as he asked. His large hands swept her long hair away, then settled on her shoulders and began to gently knead them. A moan of pleasure fluttered out of her.
“I’m scheduled for a massage next week,” she said, “but the hell with that. You’re so hired.”
He laughed, a deep rumble from his chest. “Trying to help you relax a bit, that’s all.”
“You can tell I’m that tense?”
“Yup.” His fingers made tiny circles along her neck and her eyes slipped closed. “So,” he said casually. “Top five favorite Beatles songs. Go.”
She snorted out a laugh. “Oh please. Like I could pick only five.”
“I knew I liked you.” His hands smoothed back down to her shoulders, working magic. “This robe is so soft . . . it’s nice. But it’s kind of in the way. So, um . . . you wearing anything underneath? I’m thinking it’d be easier to just massage your skin.”
Without a word, she undid the knot of the robe and let it slide off her shoulders. She heard his breath catch as her dusky purple negligee was revealed to him. Wanting to see his reaction, she turned her head to peek over her shoulder. The mesmerized look on his face made it worth it. “For you,” she whispered.
“Jesus,” he murmured, his eyes locked on her body encased in silk. He fingered one spaghetti strap over her shoulder. “My God . . .” He licked his lips as his eyes traveled over her body. “I have a confession to make.” His hand ran slowly down her bare arm, then up again. His eyes met hers and held. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. And I’ve always thought that. From the moment I first saw you. That’s the God’s honest truth.”
“Wow.” She turned a little more to better meet his now hungry gaze. “Thank you. I’m very, very flattered.”
“You’re very, very beautiful.” His hands skimmed up her arms, then turned her away from him to resume his massage. As he rubbed her shoulders, he cleared his throat. “That nightie is stunning on you. I can’t wait to peel you out of it.”
She smiled brightly, mentally congratulating herself. “Glad you like it.”
“Like it? Full disclosure: I’m totally turned on right now. You take my breath away, Tess.”
Her breath hitched, but she managed to say, “Good to know.”
“Yeah, well . . . all we have to do now is get you a little more relaxed . . .” His warm, powerful hands were so gentle on her skin, Tess couldn’t believe it. “So. You can’t pick only five, fair enough. I don’t think I can either. So just tell me some of your favorites.”
Her mind was cloudy with growing desire; it took her a few seconds to figure out what he was talking about. Oh, Beatles songs. Right. Okay. “‘Blackbird,’” she started. His fingers kneaded the muscles in her neck. “Um . . . ‘I Will.’ ‘Julia.’ ‘She Came In Through the Bathroom Window.’ ‘Across the Universe.’ ‘Paperback Writer.’ ‘Taxman.’ ‘She’s Leaving Home.’ ‘Two of Us.’”
“Ohh, ‘Two of Us’ is an all-time fave song of mine, period. Excellent choice.” Logan’s hands never ceased or strayed from her neck and shoulders. She was turning to putty. “Those are all good ones, ma’am. You’re a true fan. I approve.”
“Are the Beatles your favorite group?” she asked.
“One of them,” he said. His fingers stroked her skin without demand, giving nothing but tenderness. She felt like she was slowly melting into a big, pleasured pile of goo. “I like classic rock best. Mainly from the sixties and seventies, some eighties. Not much after, say, Pearl Jam and Soundgarden. Guess I’m a bit of a throwback.”
“Thor is an old-school rock god,” she teased. “I can see that being your style.”
“What do you listen to?”
“A little of everything . . .”
They talked about music for a while, her back to him, his hands comforting on her skin and his deep voice soothing in her ear. She gazed at the fire and felt herself loosen up; he successfully calmed her body and distracted and quieted her mind. By the time he gently eased her back against his chest, she was totally comfortable.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Like a warm puddle of mush,” she replied. “You’re good at this. You’re a genius, actually. I’m completely relaxed now.”
“Mission accomplished.”
“And then some.”
“Great. But you’re not going to fall asleep on me, are you?” His voice, low and playful, vibrated from his chest against her back as his arms slipped slowly around her.
“No way.” She tipped up her chin to look at him. He was already gazing down at her, an interesting mixture of calm assurance and growing desire clear in his eyes. His hand slid up her side, skimming her ribs, the side of her breast, over her shoulder. Their gazes locked. She reached up to touch his face, running her fingertips along his beard until she pulled his head down. Their mouths met in a sweet kiss.
She felt the flames of desire flicker and spark inside her as they kissed, the delicious heat building at a slow and steady pace. He shifted her in his arms for better access, his big hands sliding along the silk as they settled into a full embrace. Her mouth opened and his tongue swept inside, tasting her, consuming her bit by bit. The kisses deepened, a slow, sensual burn. He lifted her up to sit on his lap, facing him, pressed against him, so he could wrap his arms around her and hold her close. Her fingers sifted through his hair as the kisses burned hotter. Fire seared through her body, want and need rising in her core. She rolled her hips against his erection and he groaned into her mouth, his fingers digging into her hips.
“Are you ready?” he asked in a thick whisper against her lips.
She nodded even as her heart rate took off like a shot.
“Then let’s go to your room,” he said, kissing her jaw, her chin, then back to her lips. “You deserve a bed, to have this done right. Not here on the couch.”
She only nodded again. The air felt stuck in her lungs.
Without missing a beat he stood, lifting her with him, holding her against him in his strong arms.
“What are you doing?” she asked in surprise as he cradled her.
“Carrying you.” He kissed her, long and deep, holding her securely. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”
She did as she was told. Breathless from his gesture, swept away, she dipped her head into the crook of his neck. “My room’s at the end of the hall,” she whispered against his skin.
“I know where the master bedroom is,” he assured her.
Seemingly without effort, he crossed the length of the living room, went up the stairs, and down the hall to her bedroom. The only light in her room was the dim softness of one small lamp on the dresser. He set her down carefully on the king-size sleigh bed and smiled down at her, sweeping her hair back from her face.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” she whispered.
He silenced her with a deep, commanding kiss, aligning his large, warm body with hers. With a whimper of submission, she let herself drown in sensation. They held each other and kissed, letting the passion build. Any traces of her initial nervousness or awkwardness were fading away. She wanted him more with each minute.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she finally said.
He grinned, then sat up and pulled his sweater off over his head, tossing it aside. Then he stood up and pushed off his jeans. Standing before her in only tight navy boxer briefs, Tess sucked in a breath at the sight of him. She’d known he had a great body because it was obvious, but seeing him unclothed for the first time . . . He was magnificent. That six-foot-four frame had muscles everywhere. His arms, his chest, his abs, his thighs . . . good Lord. The Thor nickname was perfect, really, whether he liked it or not. She got up onto her knees and reached up to let her fingertips drift through the light dusting of hair on his broad chest, over the Celtic tattoo on one strong shoulder . . .
“Damn,” she murmured in appreciation. Her fingers ran eagerly over his skin, warm and firm. His eyes blazed as he watched her explore his body. “And you think I’m gorgeous? Look at you . . .” She moved in to press her lips to his chest, her mouth trailing along his skin, kissing, licking, nipping at him everywhere.
His breathing now staggered, his voice dropped low as he said, “Glad you like what you see. That must help . . .” His hands threaded through her hair.
“I like what I see, what I feel . . .” Her teeth scraped his nipple and he hissed, his fingers tightening in her curls. “Mmmm.”
“Holy hell,” he breathed, letting her take control for a moment, obviously enjoying her touch. Then he asked, “Tess, before we . . . is there anything I need to do?”
She pulled back to look at him and joked, “I can only think of one thing.”
He snorted out a laugh. “Well, yeah, that. But I meant, like . . . I don’t know, anything else? To help you. I don’t know, during, after . . . ?”
She blinked as she realized he was serious. “Oh.” God, he was such a good guy. “Well . . . it’s going to be a little awkward, but as soon as we’re done, I need to raise my hips. That helps, supposedly.” She flicked her chin toward the curved wood headboard of the sleigh bed. “I figure I’ll just swing my legs up over that. Maybe you could shove a pillow under my hips. That’s about it, I think.”
“Easy enough.” He leaned over her, slowly easing her back to lie down again. He hovered over her, leaning up on his elbows as his body settled on top of hers. With a playful grin, trailing his fingertips along her face, he murmured, “All right then, Long Island Lady. Let’s get you pregnant.”