Chapter Six

 

I woke to the sounds of the sea and the feathery touch of a fresh, salty breeze on my shoulders. Easing my limbs across the bed, I found it empty, but I wasn’t concerned, something instinctively told me Logan was nearby.

I rolled over and saw the French doors in his room flung open to the day. A small, yellow bird landed on a branch softly swaying between me and the beach, and began a staccato tune. Sighing, I inhaled Logan’s scent, lingering on his pillow. I could get used to waking up in heaven. It suited me very well.

But I was hungry and knew I’d soon have to cave in to my caffeine addiction. So I slipped from the sheets, pulled on panties and a bra, and because I couldn’t be bothered to go to my room, shrugged into Logan’s shirt that he’d worn to the cafe the day before. It was enormous on me, it hung down to my knees and the short sleeves billowed way past my elbows. But it smelled of him, and for once I felt tiny, delicate. It was a good feeling and I padded out of the room humming a summer tune.

I found Logan sitting under the parasol in just shorts. He was reading a paper and sipping from a mug. There was a plate on the table beside him holding a scattering of crumbs.

“Morning,” I said, resting my hand between his warm shoulder blades. “What time is it?”

“Gone noon.”

“Wow, I slept in.” I paused. Everything about him was stiff with tension. “You okay?”

“I am.” He scraped back his chair and stood.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You want coffee and a bagel?” His voice was hard, his jaw tight.

“Please.” I tilted my head, searching his face for clues to the source of his tension.

His gaze scanned down my body. “Suits you,” he said, his mouth twitching into a half-smile.  “The shirt.”

He disappeared into the kitchen and I rested back into the soft cushions of a chair, wondering what he meant by “I am”. The small yellow bird hopped onto the deck and I tossed Logan’s crumbs onto the wood. He pecked at them, his little gray feet tapping and his nervous eyes darting about.

“Here you go.” Logan came out with a tray, placing a hot, buttered bagel and a steaming mug of coffee in front of me. He sat and pushed the paper my way. “You better look at this.”

“Why?” My spine tensed at the stiff tone of his voice. “What’s the matter, Logan?”

“It just landed in the mailbox by the gate.”

“It’s the paper, it comes every day.”

“You’ve probably never seen a paper like this before.” The little muscle in his cheek was hammering away like a tiny drum just under his skin. “Look at the sports section.”

Sipping my coffee, I turned to the sports pages.

My hand began to shake. Drips of dark liquid spilled from my mug onto the paper, spreading like ink on silk. I read the headline three times before I believed what my eyes were seeing.

“PHOENIX AND HIS BIRD,” it shouted, then in smaller writing, “Orlando Vipers star Phoenix was far from grieving last night as his team struggled to narrowly beat the Washington Capitals. Vacationing in paradise with a mystery woman, he looked the picture of happiness and contentment…”

I couldn’t read any more. Beneath the headline was a black and lime green night shot. It was me. It was me and Logan in the water. Logan was pressed behind me and my head was tipped into the curve of his shoulder. We were up to our waists in waves, and his arms were wrapped around me. One beneath my breasts and one beneath the sea line. His lips touched my extended neck and my arms were raised and locked behind his neck.

I pinched in a juddering breath and shakily set down my coffee before it spilled. At least the paper had had the decency to a fix a black rectangle over my jutting breasts. But it was clear to anyone who looked we were naked and hot for one another. And by the look on my face, even through the shady grains of the picture, I was having a wild time.

“Oh. My. God.” I eventually managed. “How, what…I don’t understand. Who?”

Logan frowned. “It must have been that flash you saw coming from the bushes, there must have been some lowlife, scum-of-the-earth photographer camping out up there trying to dig up dirt on me. I bet he couldn’t believe his luck when he saw us skinny-dipping.” He shook his head. “Could have been a camera lens reflecting in the moonlight you saw but more likely just his flashlight as he was moving about in the undergrowth.”

“But, but, the picture is so, so, in your face, it’s, well, it’s obscene really, isn’t it?

“It’s definitely got the shock factor. He’ll have been paid big-time for it. I’m hot news this week after getting suspended.”

I rubbed my temples. I couldn’t stop staring at my own face. It hardly looked like me. I was in ecstasy, my mouth slack, my eyes heavenward and my hair lifting in the wind. I looked wanton, sex-crazed—primitive. The way my back was arched against Logan’s body was downright erotic. Something funky had really happened in the universe last night for this to land on my breakfast table—something funky and messed up that had one hell of a sense of humor and absolutely no respect for our privacy.

“I’m really sorry, Brooke.” Logan rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll speak to your father and apologize. He’ll be having fits. You were sent here to study, not make out with me.”

I looked into Logan’s concerned eyes. The pale blue was marred with shadows and lines of worry shot from the corners. I searched out his aura and sure enough, black streaks were stabbing at his brilliant blood red again. But what he’d just said was all wrong, I had been sent here for him, to entertain him, to keep him company.

“It’s okay, I’ll speak to him,” I said, resting my hand on his forearm. “I’m twenty-eight years old, my father accepts I’m not a virgin.” That father lie was going to mess up my karma big-time. I had to stop myself glancing over my shoulder for the lurking bad luck.

“Yeah, that may be, but I’m sure he won’t want you hooking up with a guy like me just before you get down to serious academic work and making something of your life.”

“A guy like you?” I tipped my head. “What do you mean?”

Logan shifted his gaze to the sea. “A jock.” His chest rose and fell as he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Someone in the news, hassled by the press, divorced, bad-tempered… The list goes on.”

“Logan—”

“Aggressive, impulsive, bad reputation, no professional qualifications, coming up for retirement in the next five years when I get to mid-thirties, sooner if I get injured—”

“Logan, will you stop it,” I said firmly. “Yes, this is a pile of rubbish,” I jabbed at the paper. “I can’t even bring myself to read it all, but it’s not your fault our privacy was invaded, this is a private villa, that patch of land is dense with vegetation, someone must have climbed the fence, hacked their way through it and sat through the storm hoping we’d show up. He, or she, was very determined, and there was nothing we could do.”

“But I should have thought about it when you said you saw a light. I’m used to crap like this but you’re not. It was my responsibility, it’s my fame that’s affected you and your reputation.”

“There’s two of us standing there,” I said, looking at the photo again. “Two of us responsible for where we have sex.”

Logan picked up his mug, drained the last of the coffee.

“This is not your fault and I don’t blame you. Neither will my father,” I said. “And besides, no one is interested in me, or who I am. They’re just interested in you and what you’re doing while you’re out of the game.”

“There’s no prizes for guessing now, are there?” He lifted his head and with relief I saw a sparkle return. “At least it boosts my rep in the locker room. The guys will know now I don’t turn off all women.”

I could have retorted that he would turn on one hundred percent of straight women. And that every woman who looked at that photo would be jealous as hell, but I selfishly decided not to put that thought into his head. I kinda liked having him to myself.

“I’ve already spoken to Fergal’s assistant,” he said. “She’s upping security around the villa’s grounds. We won’t be bothered again while we’re here.”

“Okay, good.”

He studied me for a moment. “You’ll still come to the game on Saturday night?”

“Of course I will.”

“I thought you wouldn’t now.”

“Why?”

“Because this is my life, this is what it’s like, day to day, and if we leave a game together there’ll be interest from the press.” He reached for my hand. “Since Tina left they haven’t had any fodder for gossip when it comes to my sex life. Not to say I’ve been abstinent, I just haven’t met anyone I wanted to go public with, be seen out with.” His eyes locked with mine. “And now there’s a ‘mystery woman,’ there’s going to be a lot of interest.”

“Well, this is one hell of a way to get seen out with someone.”

He lifted the back of my hand to his mouth. “Was good, though, wasn’t it?” His hot breath tickled my skin and sent little darts of pleasure up my arm.

I looked at my face again in the picture. There was no denying what he’d just said, it was written all over my expression. “Yes,” I said, “it was really, really good.”

 

*****

 

Logan went for a run on the beach and left me with my bagel and coffee. Once he’d disappeared into the distance I looked at the article again. My attention was pulled to it. It was like having a big cake and being told not to eat it, irresistible even though you knew it would make you feel sick.

“Vacationing in paradise, Viper player, Phoenix, looked the picture of happiness and contentment. Fergal Gunner is going to be glad he sent his best, not to mention most expensive forward away for the week, sun, sea and…sand being the perfect antidote for a player who’s lost his temper one time too many lately.

“Great things will be expected now from him on Saturday against the New York Islanders, if he’s not getting a touch of every puck and a piece of every play then questions will be asked about his future in Orlando. Is he financially viable? One bad game doesn’t make a season, but any more altercations or visits to the sin bin and the bad boy of ice will be skating right out of the tunnel and right off the team.”

I pulled in a deep breath. Bad boy of ice. Logan was bad all right, but in the best possible way. I looked at the picture again and a blush came to my cheeks. I wasn’t the sort of girl who indulged in shenanigans such as skinny-dipping. And I should have known it was never going to be without consequence, not with a hockey player, not with a big, sexy, dominant man who’d fallen under the spell of my curves.

But the thought of us being watched last night, watched from the bushes by someone with a long lens and a night-vision camera, gave me a weird thrill at the same time as it made me hopping mad. It had turned into a sex exhibition for some money-hungry photographer, and now the whole country was reading about me and seeing my face at the pinnacle of pleasure.

My blush receded. At least I didn’t really have to worry about any family seeing it, since I didn’t have any walking this earth and Giselle would no doubt think it a hoot.

The heat on my cheeks returned at the thought of Max, my boss at The Grill, an avid NHL fan, reading this particular sports section. Seeing my face contorted with ecstasy and the big, black block over my breasts would probably cause him to choke on his morning bacon muffin and keel over dead. That would send my balance out of kilter for years.

Sighing, I licked butter from my fingers and finished my coffee. I thought of Saturday, of having to face the crowds, the press and the other players now that I’d promised to go to the game. It obviously meant a lot to Logan. We hadn’t known each other long but there was a strong connection between us. Something drawing us together like the faithful flock to Mecca. I didn’t want to fall in love with him, or even get a crush on him. It was too soon and too complicated, at least until I refused the money and removed that component of our paths crossing.

I looked at the gentle undulation of the waves stretching over the horizon. It was impossible to change history. I knew that. I was here because I’d wanted money, a whole lot of money, and there was no changing that fact. But regardless of the method of our meeting the heavens had brought our souls together. All I had to do now was take the money out of the equation. Because it just didn’t seem right and it certainly didn’t bode well for my karma.

Carrying my breakfast things into the kitchen, I paused by the phone on the hall table. I had a sudden urge to speak to Giselle, tell her everything and see what she made of it all.

I dialed her silver cell phone. It rang six times before I remembered it was her afternoon to meet Fergal for their “cream date.” I dropped the phone back in the receiver as an image of Giselle and an old, gray, skinny guy covered in whipped cream entered my head. I shuddered and headed toward my bedroom. It was an image I could have done without.

Shutting myself in my en-suite, I conjured a picture of Logan’s big, hunky, golden body covered in whipped cream—whipped cream topped with strawberries and chocolate sprinkles—and maybe a few marshmallows and cherries for good measure.

Now that was much better, and it brought a smile to my face as I set about my morning beauty regimen.

 

 

An hour later, just as I was getting bored of my nursing texts, Logan appeared in the doorway. He reached up and curled his fingers over the doorframe and hung there, eyeing me sprawled on the bed.

His dark, rumpled hair suggested he, too, was fresh from the shower. I licked my lips, he was temptation personified with his broad bare chest, loose gray sweats and bare feet. My gaze slid down his body—apart from a few scars, dents and nicks, his skin and muscles were as solid and flawless as polished brass. I tingled as a flood of need and female appreciation swamped through me.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Apart from the fact I was getting so turned-on just by looking at him that I might actually fling my desperate body at his any second now.

“Sure?”

“Not a lot we can do about the newspaper is there?” I guessed that was what he was talking about, rather than my nymph-like thoughts.

“Nope, once it’s printed it’s out there, but tomorrow it’ll be old news.”

I swung my feet off the bed so I was sitting on the edge and tossed my book to the side. My nerves were jittery and my heart fluttery, I didn’t trust myself to stand.

Logan let go of the doorframe and walked toward me, glancing at my discarded book with hooded eyes. “You finished reading?”

“Yes, I’m bored stiff of anatomy.”

An amused grin tilted his lips. “Mmm, anatomy makes me stiff too…especially yours.”

My breath scratched my throat. I wanted him so badly. Now that I knew how Logan could make me feel I was greedy for more, much more, and I had to let him know. “So what are you going to do about it…bad boy?” I reached for the waistband of his pants, tugging the elastic and urging him between my knees. Another, even stronger rush of desire seized me as the scent of the rich shower gel we’d used last night reminded me of him filling my mouth.

A feral look crossed his face and the amusement left his eyes. He glanced at my breasts, barely contained in a tight white tank top. “I’m going to give you a real good, real interesting lesson in anatomy.” He swiped his tongue out the corner of his mouth and licked across his top lip. “You’re gonna learn all about your body and what it likes best.”

My nipples tightened. Just his gaze turned me on to the point where I was buzzing, actually contracting my internal muscles and imagining him in me again. It was crazy, this new, uncontrollable lust. I’d never felt anything like it before.

He stooped and curled his fingers beneath my t-shirt, yanked it up and over my head. My hair piled around my shoulders and I pulled in a tight breath.

“Damn, that’s almost too pretty to take off,” he said, looking at my pale pink bra laced with tiny flowers. “Almost…” He released the hook and slipped it from my body.

My gaze was caught by the growing bulge beneath the soft material of his pants. Impatiently I tugged and dropped them to his thighs. He wore nothing beneath and his hard cock sprang out, right in front of my breasts, the engorged head just an inch from my cleavage, highlighted by sunlight spilling in from the open French doors.

“Now that gives me an idea for your first lesson,” he said, palming my breasts. “A damn good idea.”

He pressed his hips forward so the length of his shaft wedged in between my breasts, flattened his palms, stretched out his fingers and gently angled my soft breasts so they totally surrounded his cock, creating a long, fleshy channel to hold him tight.

His face darkened and his abs, right in front of my face, turned to a wall of bricks. “Fuck, that’s nice,” he said. His gaze caught mine. His eyes shone a deeper blue than usual, glazed with lust. “You okay with this, sweetie?”

How could I not be? It felt wonderful, the sensation of his hot cock pressed against my sternum. And the delicate inner section of my breasts holding his satiny skin was so erotic my panties were getting wetter by the second. “Yes,” I said, pressing my hands over his and increasing the pressure around his cock. “Yes, Logan, it’s good for me. Really good.”

He let out a groan and dipped his knees so his cock dropped to the bottom of my squeezed cleavage then shifted upward, dragging his hard shaft through my skin until the scarlet head surfaced.

I let out a moan to match his. My stomach clenched and my pelvis tightened. My nipples were so aroused they’d twisted to hard bullets poking toward him.

He tipped his head back as he dipped again, rode back up and then repeated the action. I pressed harder against his hands, giving him permission to tighten the channel he was fucking. I wasn’t going to break.

“Damn, this must be every man’s fantasy,” he said on a sharp breath. “So fucking hot...” The tips of his thumbs found my nipples and he plucked the stiff peaks.

I let go of his hands, left him to hold my breasts in place, and reached for his bare butt. The skin was so smooth over marble muscle. God, I loved his butt. When I looked up at him, there was a mixture of raw possession and sweet tenderness in his eyes as he stared down at my body taking his.

“Come,” I said in a voice so husky I surprised myself. “Like this, come on me.”

I didn’t need to tell him twice. His nostrils flared and he ducked down and smoothed upward with more force. He shut his eyes tight and bared his teeth, hissing in a breath.

Then he pulled back, grabbed his cock and began working his shaft, hard and urgent, jerking it in a rapid back-and-forth movement.

“Hold yourself,” he said in a tight voice. “Now.”

I let go of his sweet butt. Lifted my breasts again, squashing them together. Watching him pump himself was hot, so hot, and he was so near to climax I could see his slit widening. I trembled with need of my own, I could barely catch my breath.

“Yes, yes, fucking…yes…” He grunted as the first warm, creamy splatter hit my cleavage dead center. He groaned and his cock pulsated again. More pearly jets shot from the head, spurting onto my breasts. He directed his cock to the left and the right, covering me in his sticky release.

As the last drip seeped from the end, he stooped and caught my mouth with his, plunging his tongue in as he threaded his hands into my hair and held me tight. “You’re something else,” he murmured between kisses. “Too damn good to be true.”