Chapter 17

 

- LOGAN -

 

 

I love watching her get ready for the day in my bathroom. I know it’s strange, because I’ve always been one to get annoyed with the sight of tiny jars of mysterious facial creams spread out over my vanity. But I haven’t gotten much time with Allie all week since she’s been working so many parties. So right now, the sight of her in my bathroom putting on some kind of flesh-colored makeup, that I swear doesn’t change her appearance in the slightest, just makes me smile.

She’s in one of my old PT shirts, and I’m glad I didn’t throw them out after separating from the Navy because she looks so damn cute in them. Flitting a look over to me, she seems to be a bundle of nerves today.

“Stop watching me,” she scolds. “You’re making me more nervous.”

I really don’t think that’s possible. “There’s no need to be nervous. My family’s pretty easy to get along with. Besides, you already met my brother. He’s definitely the only snob in the family.”

She rolls her eyes. “Your brother’s not a snob. He’s the perfect gentleman.”

I grumble low enough that she can’t hear. Sure, he was a gentleman that day at Buckeye Land. Because he was eyeing Allie like she was a piece of meat. I made it pretty clear to him since then that Allie and I are an item now and there won’t be any poaching. But I’m wary just the same. “Don’t be fooled by him. You’ll like my mom, though.”

“How about your dad?”

I shrug. “He’s a charmer, I hear. A good guy. He’s a little short with me still sometimes.”

“Because you didn’t follow in his footsteps?”

“Maybe. Or maybe because I preferred getting shot at more than going into the family business,” I laugh.

Her face is serious. “I’ve never met anyone with vascular dementia before. Is there anything I should know?”

“You probably won’t even notice. He’s still in the early stages. He hasn’t had a spell in a couple months and none as severe as that time last year.”

She nods, and her hands are shaking a bit as she shuts her compact. “How about your other brother?”

“You mean the prodigal son?” I chuckle. “I’m still not convinced Dylan’s actually coming today. Just because he texted and said his flight is coming in doesn’t mean something won’t pull him away again from his family.” I say it knowing I’m just as bad as he is. I let the Navy take me from my family for a decade, so I’m not one to cast stones in my youngest brother’s direction.

Her face is scrunched up. “Why the attitude about Dylan?”

I smile. I like how direct she is with me about things. It’s a sign she might be able to survive around a guy like me. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be that way. Dylan is… how do I say this? He was born under one of those lucky stars you hear about. Went to college on a full wrestling scholarship, which Dad certainly boasted about even though we sure never needed the money. Competed at the Olympics and took a silver, but still managed to walk away with a couple endorsements just because he’s eye candy for the women.”

She lets out a little snort. “If it makes you feel better, I haven’t got a clue who he is. But that’s just me. My life was pretty much wrapped up in my schoolbooks when I was in high school and college, and then my dogs after that.”

I pull my iPhone out of my pocket and pull up one of the shaving ads Dylan did a few years ago. “He started a chain of gyms with the money from his endorsements. I think he’s got eight or nine of them now.”

Her mouth drops as she looks at the image on my phone. “That’s your brother? Better keep Cass away from him. She’ll duct tape him to her bed and keep him as her pet.”

“He might actually like that, for a while anyway. He’s a bit of a player.”

She slides over to me and presses her chest against mine. I feel her nipples harden under my t-shirt and all the blood in my brain flows downward.

“And you’re not a player?” she asks.

“I think you know I’m not. Never had time for it and never had the interest. I’d rather have one woman I can focus all my energy on.”

“I’m glad to be that person for now.”

I hear the “for now” that she tacked on and it makes me frown. She’s got to know this isn’t a fly-by-night thing for me by now. Right?

“You make it sound like you might be going someplace,” I state.

“More likely, you will. I just don’t think you were meant to be landlocked in central Ohio, Logan.”

I frown, knowing she is right. I’ve been itching to be near the water again, and even considering taking Maeve and Jack up on that wedding invitation just to have an excuse to get out of town for a while. Meanwhile, Allie is Midwestern to her core. She’s even trying to buy a property out here that will keep her busy for years. Where is this thing headed for us?

The thoughts roll off me. I’ve never been one to think too far into the future when it comes to relationships. “Well, I’m here now.” I pull her closer to me and I’m sure she can feel just how much I’d like that t-shirt off her right now. It’s not like we don’t have the time. “We’re not leaving for another hour.”

“I just took a shower and did my makeup,” she protests.

“You can fix yourself back up.”

“We’re supposed to be there at three.”

“Ish. Threeish. We’re a very ish kind of family.”

“We can’t—”

She quiets when I slide my hands beneath her t-shirt and toy with her nipples under the pads of my thumbs.

“Oh,” she moans.

“Still think we shouldn’t do this?”

“Maybe just a quickie.”

I nudge her onto her back. “With you, I don’t think I’ll ever manage a quickie. I want to plunder your body thoroughly each time.” I slide her panties off her and feel my pulse quicken at the sight of her dark curls. My hand explores the soft skin beneath the thatch and I get harder from the look in her eyes when I find her nub, begging to be touched. My fingers slide down to her moisture, and I slip a finger inside her. She tightens around me. I love how tight she feels even around just my finger. My cock aches to stretch her out more.

Quickie? If I let myself, I could handle a quickie with her, just focusing on my own needs, pounding myself into her till I’m finished. But I love the way she feels as she cries out, clamping up those folds around me and pulling me in deeper as she comes. I get almost as much satisfaction feeling that, as I do exploding inside of her.

I move my head to her chest and push her t-shirt up, exposing her breasts. My tongue strokes her nipple, and it gets even harder from the attention. She tastes a little like soap, fresh from the shower like she is, and her skin is as smooth as butter. Her breath quickens and I can feel her heart beating as my lips are pressed against her. I move to the other breast as my hand toys with her clit. I want to watch her come again, right now, with my face only inches from hers and in broad daylight so I can enjoy the sight. My fingers explore, picking up the moisture from her slit and moving it up to the bud beneath her curls. She purrs my name, and opens her legs more. A request. But I wait for her demand. I tease her more, sucking on her breast as I use my free hand to massage the other. I love the way her nipples respond to my touch.

Lower still, my other hand teases her with her own moisture, and she opens even wider. I slide my finger along the side of her entry, not dipping in this time. She murmurs something unintelligible, and I know what she wants.

“Say, please.” I advise her.

Her eyes flicker shut. “Please.” Her voice is barely a whisper and sounds almost pained as her pelvis lifts higher. I shouldn’t have made her wait so long. But I have one more demand.

“Open your eyes for me, baby. I want to see them when you come.”

Her eyes open and she stares at me, but I’m not even sure if she’s seeing me. She seems drunk on hormones, and engrossed in need.

“Good girl,” I say, plunging two fingers deep inside her and hearing her cry out immediately from the pressure. She arches her neck backward, her hips rocketing upwards, trying to pull me in even deeper. My cock is so hard as I watch her. I hadn’t intended to take care of my own needs before taking her to dinner, but now there’s no turning back. When her body sinks back into the sheets, I pull a condom from my nightstand and pull off my shorts. I need to be inside her now. I sheath myself, then prop myself above her. Her legs are still open, waiting for me, but I know I need to make this fast.

“Roll over,” I tell her.

She does as she’s told, and for that, I’m grateful. I’m breathless, unable to explain. I pull her hips upward, and wrap my arms around her so that I can lightly pinch her clit. She makes a little noise in response. “That feel good?”

“Inside me,” she demands. “Now. Please.”

I laugh, loving how polite she is even in her most desperate moments. I slide into her slick entry. I know I’m big for her small frame and I try to hold back. She seems to sense this, arching her back a little more to take me in.

I have to remind myself to touch her. It’s not all about me, but I’m feeling selfish suddenly, with her tight around me, gripping me with the muscles inside her channel.

My fingers roam from her breasts, down her belly, to the center of her need, and she tightens up again, tighter still, around me. It’s all instinct now, driving into her so hard and fast, unable to slow myself. I see her body in front of me, rocking back and forth as I take her from behind, and it only makes me want to press into her deeper.

“Harder,” she says, and the word has me completely undone. I feel her folds grip my cock like a vise as she screams out my name, letting herself succumb to a climax. I’m only a second behind her, plunging into her depths as though mating with her is the only thing that can keep me alive.

One final thrust and I fall to my side, taking her with me. I’m seeing stars, and fight the lure of sleep to recharge myself. My body is slick from sweat. It wasn’t a marathon, but a short, hard sprint that’s left me reeling inexplicably.

I look at her reddened skin where I was gripping her. “Oh, God, Allie, I didn’t mean to take you so hard.”

A tired smile creeps up to her flushed cheeks. “I only hope you mean to do it again soon.”

I’m relieved at her words, yet stunned by what she has done to me. I need to have more control with her. But control is one thing I’m lacking every time she enters the room.

When she rolls onto her back, my hand moves to her breasts, stroking them, savoring the feel of her skin beneath my touch. I make a trail of kisses down her belly, down to her sex, opening her legs. “Did I make you sore, baby?”

“A little,” she admits.

I dip my head between her legs and offer myself as a salve for her aches. She inhales a sharp breath as my tongue moves along the stretched tissue along her opening, and then enters gently. I love the taste of her. It’s indescribable and intoxicating, and makes my blood surge south even as I struggle to recover from the last time I let myself go inside of her. She tastes like every fantasy I’ve had in my life and I’m addicted to it.

Addicted to her.

I open her legs more, lapping at her folds and sucking her nub tenderly, softly, the way I know she needs me to be right now. “Feel a little better?”

She doesn’t answer me, just digs her fingers into my hair and holds my face to her. “More, please,” she whispers.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” God knows I am.

“Mmhm,” she answers, gazing down at my erection as I move above her. I pull off the old condom and slip on a new one. I hate the damn things and wonder what it would feel like to slide into her without. I know I’m safe, and pretty sure she is. But I’m sure she’s not on the pill, and I don’t take chances.

I slide into her, determined to take it slow this time, determined to let this time be all about her. And as I feel myself sink into her, I can’t help wondering whether it would be such a bad thing to get her pregnant. I get harder just at the thought of pouring inside of her, making a baby. I don’t know where the thought is coming from, but it’s there, and it’s never been there before.

These sure as hell aren’t my normal thoughts during sex. And I should be mortified, but I’m not. Instead, I’m just watching her eyes fall to half-mast as I move in and out of her and I’m feeling perfectly complete, perfectly at ease, and calmer than I’ve ever been in my life.

She is my world. Right now, I amend. Though somehow right now just doesn’t seem to be enough.

My movements are slow and I’m certain to rub against her clit each time I’m deep inside her. Her eyes shut in response and I watch a breath fill her lungs, raising her breasts closer to me, urging my mouth to take a taste. I kiss her reverently, taking a nipple inside my mouth and letting my moisture sooth the irritated skin from where I grabbed her too hard earlier. She deserves this—tenderness. More than just a quick fuck.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” I ask her.

Her eyes widen. I’m generally not a conversation-during-sex kind of guy, but I need to know that she sees herself the way I see her.

She shakes her head slightly. “Never really thought of myself as beautiful before. Cute, maybe. But not beautiful.”

“You are. That first time I saw you in the bar. You were chatting with the bartender, laughing at something he said, and all I could think was, ‘I want to make her smile like that.’ It’s like I had never seen anything so sincere in my life. Your eyes sparkle when you do, and the smile isn’t just on your face, but in your whole body. The way you hold yourself, leaning into people as they talk as though what they’re saying actually means something to you. The way your brow arches a little as you listen, and then that look of surprise when you laugh, as though it’s the best damn feeling in the world and that everyone should laugh with you.”

I sound like a fucking pussy, and I’m glad my brothers will never hear this. But when I feel her tighten up around my cock again, getting slicker by the second, I can tell that at least she appreciates what I’m saying.

“I’m glad you didn’t come into my room that night. I’d never want just a one-night-stand with you, Allie. I want—” I nearly say it. I nearly say forever, but I catch myself. The last thing I want to do is make a promise to her that I can’t keep.

Or could I? I’m not a SEAL anymore. I can go anywhere I want, live where I please. I have nothing pulling me away from Newton’s Creek and one good thing pulling me to stay.

“What do you want?” she asks, prodding me on.

How do I answer that? How do I tell her the truth without making promises?

“More. I want more,” I tell her, sliding deep inside her, slowing, even as the clock on the nightstand tells us to hurry. I won’t rush this moment. I’ll savor it as long as she’ll let me.