Chapter 17

 

Logan

 

I’m in the viewing room again, my eyes already adjusted to the bright light. Doctors are shoulder to shoulder as they hunch over the operating table. My body leans left, and then right… just can’t fucking see. I know I should know who’s on that table, but it’s just escaping me.

I look to my right, immediately frustrated the faces are blurred and unrecognizable. I turn to my left, expecting the same, but instead, I meet a pair of crystal-blue eyes smiling at me sadly.

Auralie.

I stare at her, confused as to why she’s here. How in the hell did she even get admitted? I look over her shoulder at the long row of people sitting to her left, but they’re all blurred as well. I can tell, however, that they’re all facing forward and watching the procedure down below.

With great effort, and because I’m afraid I’ll miss something important, I tear my eyes away from Auralie and look through the glass to the doctors below.

The whoosh of the respirator is expected, as is the beeping from the EKG monitor. I still can’t see a fucking thing though as to what they’re doing, but a few words filter up through the speakers mounted in the corners of the viewing room.

“… I can’t locate the bleeder. Can I get some more suction?”

“…BP’s fifty over forty… heartrate 120… she’s in hemorrhagic shock…”

Icy prickles cause my hair to stand up, and my heart starts beating rapidly. My ears strain to hear more because I still can’t see shit below.

“…hang another unit of O-Neg.”

“…she’s had three already…”

“…can I get some fucking suction here…”

The doctors move only nominally, still huddled over the table. For as dire as the situation seems, no one seems to be doing much to the patient before them. It’s driving me nuts I can’t get a glimpse… then maybe I could….

What?

In desperation, I turn to my left. Auralie is still looking at me sadly.

“Can you see anything from where you’re sitting?” I ask her desperately.

She gives a slow shake of her head, and I curse at the fates.

I start to turn back. Perhaps I’ll get out of my chair and beat on the glass… tell those motherfuckers to move…

A warm hand presses down on my thigh, and I feel Auralie’s delicate fingers press into the muscle there. I turn back to look at her, and she leans in to whisper, “You should fuck me, Logan.”

“Excuse me?” I ask, my head turning so I can get a quick glance back to the operating table. Still completely obscured. I look back to her. “What did you say?”

Her hand slides up my leg, and it feels hot. I mean, really hot, as if it’s lighting the skin under my pants on fire. I want to turn to look back at the procedure below because I’m afraid I’ll miss something, yet I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from her hand that’s creeping steadily up my leg.

“Logan,” she murmurs, and I slide my eyes up to meet hers. She gives me an encouraging look. “You really should fuck me.”

Before I can even answer, and before I can take another quick peek into the surgical room, her small hand covers my crotch and she squeezes what I’m surprised to find out is a hard-on I’m sporting.

Talk about inappropriate.

My hand comes up to cover hers with the intent to remove it, as I have far more important things to do right now. But the minute my palm touches the back of her hand, I find myself pressing her hand down on me harder and forcing her fingers to curl around the outline of my erection.

I groan and lift my hips up, because fuck… that feels so damn good.

I should probably undo my belt… get my zipper down.

“…we’re losing her…” I hear someone yell, and my head snaps toward the glass.

“Logan… I need you inside me,” Auralie murmurs, squeezing my cock. I use my hand to make hers start to jack me through my jeans, even as my eyes remain pinned helplessly on the doctors below.

“…blood pressure’s falling…”

“I want you deep inside me, Logan.”

“…she’s gone into cardiac arrest…”

“Baby… I can make this all go away if you just fuck me…”

A long, slow beep from the EKG monitor.

“No,” I cry out to the doctors below.

“Logan,” I hear as someone shakes my shoulder hard. “Come on, honey. Wake up for me.”

My eyes snap open, and I immediately recognize the interior of my trailer.

I know I’m on my bed.

I also know that is Auralie’s soft body sitting in the bed next to me with her hand on my shoulder.

I’m covered in a thin sheen of sweat. My heart is pounding pretty hard, and I’m keenly aware I have a raging hard-on.

“Are you okay?” Auralie asks in a tremulous voice. “I think you were having a nightmare.”

I turn my head, but I can’t make out her facial features in the gloom. I can tell by the tone of her voice she’s wigged out.

For fuck’s sake… I’m wigged out too, because that was the same old dream that was seemingly mixed with something else. It’s still with me, causing pulsing images of the viewing room, the operating table, the hunched-over doctors to all flash before me.

Gritting my teeth, I grab Auralie’s hand and put it to my cock. I make her curl her fingers around and stroke it a few times, then remove my hand and let her take over. She does so without question and I give a relieved groan, my mind instantly focusing only on the pleasure she gives me.

“Were you having a nightmare?” she presses me tentatively as my cock fucks her hand and my hips start thrusting into her grasp.

I don’t answer but instead roll over her, forcing her to lie back on the bed. She loses her grip on me, and I immediately see the operating room again in my head. My hand reaches out blindly to the window ledge above my bed, desperately seeking the bottle of lube I keep up there. I knock over my alarm clock, fumble over my phone, and finally latch onto it.

The doctor on the end… he starts to turn to let me see the table.

Coming up on my knees in between her legs, I flip the cap and pour a hefty amount into my palm before using my thumb to latch it shut. The bottle falls forgotten. My lubed palm goes to my dick where I coat it thoroughly.

“Logan?” Auralie whispers in confusion.

A small body on the table… covered in a sheet.

I fall onto Auralie, her legs spreading for me automatically, and I shove my cock into her with a grunt.

She gasps, her entire body stiffening from my invasion, but I’m immediately filled with a warm peace. Her pussy is gripping my dick in such a way that everything else just becomes moot as I start fucking her.

Leaning my head down, I kiss her softly as my hips pump away the misery before whispering to her, “Sorry, baby. Just needed you badly.”

She answers me with a moan and her hands to my ass, urging me to go deeper. I fuck her so thoroughly that we both come quickly. As I orgasm, I can barely remember my own name much less a stupid dream.

Yeah… that’s the stuff that nightmare demolition is made of.

 

***

 

I crashed hard after I fucked Auralie post nightmare. Banished those god-awful memories good because the only dreams I had after that were of fucking Auralie again, which ensured I woke up with a hard-on and feeling horny but oddly refreshed. Downside was that I didn’t have time to act on my instincts to have her again, but instead, slipped out of bed and quietly put my clothes on. It was barely six AM, but I always wake up early because that’s normally when my workday starts out on the river.

After leaving a note for Auralie on the mattress beside her, I crept out of the trailer and got in my truck.

The minute I hit Highway 191, I dial Bridger, wincing slightly when it’s clear I woke him up and also clear he’s not happy about it.

“This better be good,” he growls into the phone, his voice clogged with sleep and irritation.

“It’s Logan,” I told him succinctly, and so he would understand the urgency I boil the circumstances down to the most dramatic facts. “I’ve got to talk to you now about Magnus. He’s a con artist, and Auralie is being blackmailed.”

“What the fuck?” Bridger grumbles but his voice is clearer. “Where are you?”

“On my way to see you,” I tell him. “Can we meet at your office?”

“Come to my house,” he says.

I blink in surprise, but I don’t question. I’ve never been invited there before. No one I know from The Silo has, except Woolf, but he warrants the exception since he’s Bridger’s best friend. “Know where it is?”

“No clue,” I admit.

He gives me directions. I’m not surprised to find his house sits on Double J property, which is owned by Woolf. I have no clue exactly how big the Double J is, but I know the parent company, JennCo, has over three hundred thousand acres spread over three states. The Double J is first and foremost a cattle ranch—largest in the nation—but it also surreptitiously leases a small tract of land to Bridger upon which The Wicked Horse and The Silo sit. But interestingly, his house sits about as far from the Wicked Horse and The Silo as possible, actually putting it closer to the city limits of Jackson. Rather than taking me almost forty-five minutes to make the trip, it will only take me about fifteen.

Bridger meets me at the door wearing a pair of loose, black track pants and a white t-shirt. His hair is sticking up all over the place, and he has a cup of coffee in hand. As he closes the door behind me, he walks into the kitchen and I follow.

Bridger’s house is really nice and that surprises me. Not that he can’t afford “really nice,” but it’s just that outside of his red Corvette, Bridger never really seems to be moved by money. I know he makes a shit-pot full between the bar and sex club, but he never flaunts it. He doesn’t wear super expensive clothes, preferring jeans and cowboy boots, and he never takes vacations.

While his house is nice, it’s not ostentatious like Woolf’s. I’m guessing about three-thousand square feet, built in the classic western cabin theme with pine logs and large, rectangular windows that look out over the Teton Mountains. The mountain range is so large and sweeping, there are not many places on the Double J where you can’t see the beauty of it.

The kitchen is state of the art with granite counters, custom cabinetry, and high-end appliances. Bridger silently pours me a cup of coffee from one side of a kitchen island, pushing it across to me with a nod toward one of the high-backed stools done in wrought iron and reclaimed wood.

I park my ass on one and pull the coffee toward me, grateful for it since I didn’t bother to make any before I left. Didn’t want to chance waking up Auralie.

“So spill it,” Bridger says gruffly.

“Magnus is a con artist and Auralie’s dad works for him. He skimmed some money, pissed Magnus off, and now Magnus is using Auralie as repayment to run a con at The Silo.” I think that was about as succinct as I can make it.

“And you know this how?” Bridger asks, not because he doesn’t trust my word, but he’s angling to know what my connection to Auralie is.

So I tell him with brutal honesty. “She’s not a virgin. I fucked her after she admitted it to me, and I plan on fucking her for the foreseeable future. She laid the entire story out to me last night.”

Bridger cocks an eyebrow at me, and there’s no mistaking the skepticism in his tone. “Logan… hate to point this out because I’m getting clearly that you like this woman, but she’s playing the part really well; she didn’t seem too averse to sucking dick.”

I get what he’s inferring. That Auralie is as much into the con as Magnus is, and to some extent, that’s true. She was all in when it came to portraying the innocent virgin, and she didn’t seem reluctant at all to get on her knees to suck strange dick.

He’s doubting her endgame.

So, I have to be brutally honest with him. “She was raised by a grifter father to be a grifter herself. That has been her life up until recently when she got out. Was going to enroll in college. She’s only doing this because Magnus will kill her father if she doesn’t run this con with him. She’s getting nothing out of this but her father’s life.”

“Fuck,” Bridger mutters and leans onto the counter, his forearms flat and hands clasped to support his weight. “So if she doesn’t go through with this, her dad’s in trouble.”

I nod stiffly, because that is the real bone of contention I have with Auralie right now. She’s determined to see this through to protect her dad, and I’m determined that she not step foot in The Silo again.

Which brings about a startling thought.

Am I willing to do the same thing? Am I willing to give The Silo up if I could have Auralie to myself?

I have no fucking idea, but my gut instinct tells me I could be wholly satisfied with what she gives me.

I think.

No real fucking clue, but that’s not what my immediate worry is right now. It’s trying to figure out how I get Auralie out of this mess so the only dick she touches is mine. Her dad isn’t even my real priority, but I know he has to be a consideration because unless his safety can be guaranteed, Auralie will be on her knees tonight—and not before me.

This was a calculated risk coming to Bridger. My ultimate hope is that he may have an idea on what to do. Maybe we can reverse con Magnus somehow. Maybe Bridger can pull a fire code violation that closes The Silo down for the next six months, which I get is really unlikely, but I hold out hope.

Mostly, though, I’m revealing this shit to Bridger because I know the minute I spilled the beans on the fraud being perpetrated in his place of business, he was never, ever going to let it go any further. I know Bridger’s initial reaction will be to kick Magnus’ ass and kick him out of the club. My risk in bringing Bridger in on this is if he reacts swiftly and does something like that, Auralie’s dad will be at risk and Auralie will never forgive my rash actions.

I am hoping beyond hope that Bridger will put his trademark calm, reasoning, and brilliant mind to task to help me figure out what to do.

“How was this supposed to be pulled off if she’s not a virgin?” Bridger asks.

“She was supposed to drug whoever purchased her before they had sex. She and Magnus would slip away with the money.”

Bridger growls and his face goes thunderous. I hastily remind him. “Remember… she’s only doing this to protect her dad.”

“I get that,” he snaps at me. “Doesn’t mean I like the plan or that your girl is involved in a scheme to dupe one of my customers.”

“Just,” I start off by saying but my throat gets clogged. I don’t beg and this is as close to it as I’ll come. “Just… can you figure out a way to help her?”

Bridger lets out a huff of frustrated breath. “When is Magnus coming back from New York?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Any idea when he expects to make the sale?” he asks.

“No,” I admit with annoyance. “He’s kept Auralie in the dark on everything.”

“Here’s the thing,” Bridger says as he pushes up off the counter to a straightened position. “Any type of idea to reverse con him is not going to work as Auralie’s dad will pay for it.”

“Agreed. But what if we just spread the word to those thinking to bid that it’s a con—”

Bridger shakes his head and glares at me. “We are not letting this cat out of the bag. I don’t want my customers knowing that shit is going on in my club. It will damage the trust people have in the safety of it.”

“So we have to bring Magnus down in a way that makes it so he can’t harm Auralie or her dad in the future,” I conclude.

“You can’t murder him,” Bridger says, and it makes me realize how menacing my tone just was. But he’s not serious. He knows I wouldn’t do that.

Or would I?

What would I do to keep Auralie all to myself and never let another man touch her?

I’m amazed at myself that I’m even considering these options seeing as how I never thought I’d ever be proprietary over a woman again. Never contemplated having a relationship again.

Guess I’ve changed, but the real question is, what have I changed into?

“Is he expecting her to go to The Silo tonight?” Bridger asks, and I blink to chase away my thoughts about murder and commitment.

“No clue.” Although in my heart of hearts, I’m positive he’ll tell her to go. The question is will I let her?

“Well, I can’t close down another night,” Bridger says with that look in his eyes that says don’t even bother to ask. “So you best be prepared to let your girl do what she needs to do until we can figure something out. I have an idea, but it’s not going to happen overnight.”

I grimace but nod. I know even as brilliant as Bridger is, he’s not going to fix this shit in a matter of hours. Not even sure he can fix this at all.

Which means I need to prepare myself to accept a few truths.

Auralie is going to be pissed as hell I told Bridger all of this.

Bridger is not going to let this fraud run its course, although he’ll let it temporarily play out until we can figure something out.

The sale of Auralie’s “virginity” is not going to take place, which means Magnus is going to get screwed over. This means that Auralie’s dad could go poof.

Which means there’s a good chance Auralie’s going to hate me at some point.