Selena
He'd asked me to marry him. Marriage. This wasn't the same as asking someone out for a date. This was the rest of our lives we were talking about. I was really serious about him already, despite the short amount of time we'd known each other, but marriage was so much more serious. Was he willing to spend the rest of his life with one woman - a woman whose life was about as interesting as the library itself? Was I willing to live with someone who was constantly in danger and had a past that kept coming back to haunt him, literally?
His face was full of expectancy when he said it. He hadn't actually asked me to marry him; they were both statements, but this was the Logan I knew and the Logan I'd come to love. He did nothing the conventional way.
"We hardly know each other," I said.
He nodded. "I know. But I know enough about you that I know I want to do this for the rest of my life. You're different than anyone else I've ever been with and I don't want this to end."
I shook my head. It was too fast. This was all moving so quickly. It had only been just over two weeks. Who got engaged just after two weeks? What if something was wrong? What if there was a side to him I was yet to find out about, a side I didn't like?
"I need some time to think about it," I said. He looked disappointed when I said so, but he nodded. I didn't want him to feel like I was rejecting him but, the truth was, I needed to know this was the right thing for me. This was one thing I couldn't do for him. I needed to do it for myself. I needed to make sure I was doing the right thing for me and my future happiness.
We sat in silence in the increasing darkness and it felt like home, even though we were far away from anything I knew. I was sure with Logan, everything would feel that way. We were really good together. That was when I realized it. That was when I understood that if it felt like home with him now, what were the chances it would stop feeling like this down the line? He was already doing everything people did for each other in important, long-term relationships. He was caring, gentile, he made space for me in his life without sacrificing the other things that were important to him, and he respected me and my life and my future goals. He respected who I was as a person without trying to change me.
Wasn't that what everyone wanted in a relationship? Wasn't that what marriage counselors advised and people pointed out when it was lacking? Sure, it had only been two weeks, but it felt like the foundations were already in place. We had what it took to make it last.
"Okay," I said. It was so dark now I could only make out his form on the other end of the couch.
"Okay, what?"
"Okay, I'll marry you."
Stunned silence hung between us for a moment and then he laughed. "When you said you needed time to think I thought you meant like a week or two or something like that. I didn't think we were talking about fifteen minutes."
I smiled and shrugged even though he couldn't see me at all. "There wasn't too much to think about. I covered everything I needed to. I'd be happy to marry you."
He crawled over the couch toward me and kissed me. The kiss was long and tender and sensual and every other quality that had come to define our relationship.
"I do have a few conditions, though."
"What?" He sounded suspicious. Was I going to ask him to give up something he loved?
"I want all this business with May and the club over with before we get married. I don't want her to interfere with our marriage. Once it’s me and you, it's just me and you and no one else."
"Done. I'll sort it out and we'll be May-free forever."
I nodded. "I also want you to be safe. I don't want to have to sit and wonder if you're coming home to me at the end of every night." I was thinking about his parents dying, his brother, everyone in his life being ripped away. I loved him and I was strong but I wasn't strong enough for that. I wouldn't make it if I had to sit on the edge of my seat waiting for him to walk through the door and one day he just never did.
"I understand. I've been thinking about it, too."
I kissed him again. "Good. Thank you."
"What else?"
I shook my head. "No, that's it."
"You don't want me to stop riding my bike or something like that?"
I laughed. "I met you on that bike, practically. I'm not asking you to change who you are, Logan. I just want us to make it through."
He laughed, too, and it sounded like he was relieved. He kissed me again, and this time he pushed his body up against mine. He was ready for sex, I could feel it in his muscles, in the hardness in his pants, the way he was kissing me. I was ready to celebrate our engagement.
It turned from happy and gentle and loving to urgent and heated and sexy. His hands were all over my body, over my clothes and then under it. He massaged my breasts, tweaked my nipples, grinded his hips against mine until I was wet and hungry, a hot mess. I wanted him. I wanted all of him and I wanted it right now.
I was still reeling with the decision I’d made, with the choice to spend the rest of my life with him. He was the perfect man – a bad boy who could be nice just for me, someone who could treat me like a princess and still make my life feel like it was a dangerous adventure. I had taken a bit of time – admittedly, not a lot – to think about the prospect of marrying him, and I had found there was absolutely no reason to say no.
Nothing at all.
Logan lifted himself off me and I felt his absence acutely. I moaned in protest. He took my hand and pulled me up. We were going to the bedroom. He led me to the front door, instead. On the little porch he grabbed the two beach towels we’d been using whenever we swam in the lake and walked toward the water, leading me. I followed him, letting me take me. I trusted him no matter what.
On the deck that reached into the water, he started undressing me. The night was dark, with a half-moon hanging silver in the sky, reflection on the water that was almost completely quiet, a sea of glass. He pulled my shirt over my head, undid my bra and let it fall onto the wooden deck. He bent down and took each nipple into his mouth, one after the other, sucking me until I was writhing with sexual anticipation.
He pulled my pants down, rubbing his hands down my legs in the process and he kissed my ankles one by one when I lifted them.
When he straightened up he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it. He pulled his pants down and his erection was clear in the moonlight. He was as eager as I was. He looked at me and flashed a devilish smile. Then he dove into the water.
I watched him go under for a moment and then reappear, hair slick against his head, his head only a profile against the dark water. I dove in, too, unwilling to be naked on the deck without him.
The cold water was a shock on my system and I squirmed before I reached the surface. When I came up for air I was gasping. “This is freezing.”
He swam to me, laughing, and wrapped his arms around me. His body was hot, the contrast great in the cold water. He moved the both of us toward the deck so one of the beams was behind my back and pressed his body against mine. His body heat flooded me, bringing back the urge for sex. The cold water had done nothing to his raging erection. He was as hard and eager as he had been before jumping in.
He kissed me. His tongue was warm even though his lips were cold and he tasted like lake water and Logan – a taste that belonged only to him. His hand was on my face, sliding down to my neck, my chest, and he massaged my breast under the water. My nipples were tight from the cold and the idea of sex and he pulled and tugged on them, driving me crazy.
I lifted my legs, wrapping them around his hips. I pulled him closer to me and his erection was against my thigh and then on my core, searing hot. I moved myself against him for a while, rubbing him up and down with my sex, making him want it. His one hand braced against the deck’s support beam, the other was on the small of my back, pushing me against him. His head was in my neck, sucking and nibbling on the delicate skin.
When he started groaning I knew it was enough playing around. He wanted me and I was well past wanting him inside of me. I lifted slightly and pulled myself down on him, gasping as he pushed into me. No matter how many times we had sex, it would never change, never be something I got used to. Every time we did it, it felt like the first time.
Logan helped me and we used each other and the support beam to move against each other, to pump in and out, to have sex. It was thrilling doing this here, in the lake, naked. The contrast between the cold water and our warm bodies, the hot sex, was erotic. I wasn’t cold at all anymore.
Logan had his hand on my breast again and he rubbed my nipple in circles with his thumb. The sensation was delicious and before long I orgasmed. I jerked against him and grabbed onto him, legs and arms around his body, trusting him to keep me up, my head above water. The water moved away from us in little ripples, created by our movements.
Logan didn’t stop moving when I orgasmed. He slowed down and before I was done he picked up pace again, drawing the orgasm out. It was the best sex we’d had so far, but every time we did it, it felt like that.
He didn’t take much longer before he came. He released inside of me and it was hot. When he was done he slipped out of me and kissed me. I felt our fluids in the water around us, warm.
“Let’s get back to the cabin, dry up and then we’ll see what happens when we get to the bedroom.”
His voice was deep and guttural, the way it got when we had sex, and I loved it. The idea of more of this was thrilling. I nodded and he got out of the water first, now limp, and pulled me out. We toweled off and with the towels wrapped around our bodies, clothes bundled in our arms, we ran back to the cabin.
I frowned. The light was on inside. We had left it off. Logan was ahead of me. I was relieved he would be the first to run into whoever was there. He would protect me; he would stop at nothing.
There were bikes in front of the cabin. His gang members were here, two, by the looks of it. Logan opened the door and stepped inside with the authority of a real leader despite the fact that he was only wearing a towel. There was no question about who was in charge. I stepped in behind him. Two pairs of eyes fell on me, took in my clothes, or lack thereof, and I felt uncomfortable. They were serious, though, and turned their attention back to Logan immediately.
I walked past them into the bedroom to get dressed.
They were talking in the small lounge. I could hear their voices, urgent, serious, but not what they were saying. Something was wrong, I could feel it in the air. They’d come here to fetch him. He was going to go back with them.
He’d already said he wanted to do that in the morning. He’d already wanted to go. Maybe it was something he’d already known about. I never asked when it came down to his gang and the business with them. I figured he would tell me if there was something I needed to know, and so far, nothing had come up.
I trusted Logan to do the right thing, to stop it from coming between us. I trusted him with my life. I hadn’t known him for very long and I felt like I was safe with him no matter what, safer than I’d ever felt with some other people. The only problem I had with him was that I didn’t trust him with his own life. I was aware he would sacrifice himself for any of his men if it came down to it and I didn’t want to have to live without him, especially not now since I’d decided I wanted to marry him. I didn’t want to be a widow. I didn’t want Logan to die. After everything he’d told me about his parents and his brother, I wanted to be sure something like that would never happen with him.
Still, I would never ask him to give up that part of himself. That was up to him to lay down if he felt like it was important.
I rubbed my hair with a towel and put on a bit of makeup so I didn’t feel so naked. The door flew open and Logan stormed in, yanking clothes on in a hurry.
“Is everything all right?”
He looked worried, anxious. “No.” He didn’t say more and I knew better than to ask. He was in his clothes in less than a minute and stormed out of the room again.
I followed, hanging back, trying to stay out of the fray. The other two were upset as well, visibly so. I wondered if it had to do with Logan and how upset he was or the reason he was so upset in the first place. I knew better than to ask. I didn’t get involved. I had to trust he would fill me in.
They looked at each other like something passed between them, communication without words.
“I need to get back,” he said before turning to me. “I need you to ride back with Mitchell.”
The guy I assumed was Mitchell nodded. “I’ll take her in the car.”
“You come with me,” he pointed to the other guy. He turned to me, kissed me on the mouth and ran out the door.
The other biker followed suit and then I was left with Mitchell. He was about my height but he seemed a hell of a lot bigger with his muscles and his character filling up the room, making me feel small and insignificant. The sounds of the bikes starting up filled the night and then they were off with a roar. Logan had taken Mitchell’s bike and we were going back in the car.
I looked at the door, feeling empty and forgotten. What if this was the last time I would ever see Logan and that was the last goodbye?
“He’ll be back for you,” Mitchell said as if he knew what I was thinking. “He’s a tough one and he cares for you. He won’t leave you hanging.”
I swallowed hard and nodded.
“Do you want to pack your stuff?” Mitchell asked. He was using a gentle voice on me, like someone who was trying to soothe a scared animal.
I nodded again and walked back to the room. I packed my bag on autopilot, putting everything in because that was what I was supposed to do. My stomach was a tight knot of nerves. I was scared for Logan. I didn’t know what was wrong, but considering everything that had been happening I was scared it was a lot bigger than Logan was making it seem. If Mitchell had to take me home, it meant I wasn’t safe here, either.
When I was done packing I brought the bag to the front and Mitchell took it from me. A gentleman. All these bikers were, apparently.
“What about Logan’s stuff?”
Mitchell shook his head. “He’ll be back for them. He just wants me to make sure you’re home safe.”
I nodded. This was terrifying. If home had been so unsafe I had to hide out here, what could have happened that even the lake wasn’t safe for me anymore?
“Are you going to stay with me?” I asked.
Mitchell nodded. “Logan asked me to watch over you.”
It was a relief that I would be safe but I struggled with the fact that it had come to this, that Logan might be in a lot more danger than I’d thought.