Torn from You

“Okay, I’ll finish up here.”



Logan snagged my hand. “No. You’re not staying here cleaning up. I’ll do it tomorrow.”



We went outside to the pool, Kite followed. Crisis, Kat, and Ream were there and it was heated. Gray slate cobblestones gleamed under the lights that surrounded the pool. The water glistened, and the moonlight reflected off the smooth surface.



“Back the fuck off, Ream,” Crisis shouted. “What’s your problem?”



“You’re my problem, asshole. Get your hands off her.” Ream’s eyes shot to Kat. “You gonna fuck him too? Going to screw every fuckin’ guy that looks at you? Ever thought of asking for money? You’d be rich by now.”



Kat’s face paled, and I suspected if Crisis didn’t have his arm around her waist, she would’ve collapsed. Her expression was so damaged—eyes wide with horror, mouth open with shock. “Are you offering to compensate me for services rendered?”



“Fuck,” Logan muttered. “Stay here.” He started to walk toward them.



Ream was in Crisis’s face, slurring his words. “Fuckin’ Crisis, Kat? Man whore? This isn’t going down. No fuckin’ goddamn way.”



“Ream, you need to walk away man,” Kite said approaching.



“Ream.” Logan’s voice was more of a warning sound, and I recognized it well.



“You don’t own me, Ream. Remember. You think I’m a piece of shit, so it doesn’t matter what you think of me.” I was close enough to see Kat’s tears teetering in the rims of her eyes.



Ream’s face dropped, and he ran his hand twice over his shaved head. “Where’d you get that shit from? I never said that. I never fuckin’ said that.”



“You look at me like I’m garbage. I might as well play the part.”



Logan’s body was tight, ready. Like he looked before a fight—controlled and calm but deadly. He chin-lifted to Kite then they walked up behind Crisis and Kat.



“Jesus Christ, I don’t think that. But you keep this up and I’m changing my mind. Fuckin’ hell, Kat, why are you doing this? The men. Jesus.”



Kat slipped from Crisis and backed up. “You wouldn’t even talk to me afterward.”



Ream ran his hand through his hair, and he staggered a step as he lost his balance. “Kitkat ... I couldn’t ... I couldn’t face—”



Kat erupted. “You couldn’t face it? Are you serious? I fuckin’ face it! I knew it. I fuckin’ knew this would happen. I never told anyone for this very goddamn reason.” She walked toward him, her hands balled into fists. “I still face it, Ream. Me.” Kat shoved him in the chest, and he staggered back a step. “You have no right telling me who I can be with. None.” She slammed both palms into him again.



“Oh shit,” Logan swore as Ream lost his balance and went back several feet then slipped over the edge into the pool.



Crisis roared with laughter.



It took several seconds before he came sputtering to the surface. Crisis was still laughing while Kat frowned, her gaze focused on Ream as he swam to the side and pulled himself out.



His jeans and T-shirt clung to his body like a second skin, and when I looked at Kat, she was staring at Ream like ... she was in love with him.



Crisis was bowled over, clutching his stomach laughing.



But it was the look in Ream’s eyes that had me worried for Kat. Logan got that look, a twinkle in his eyes that I knew meant mischief. Ream shook his head and droplets of water dispersed like a dog shaking after his bath. He looked nonchalant, casual, and that was dangerous.



“Kat—” I was too late. The moment I said her name, Ream dove for her. His head was down as his arms wrapped around her waist and heaved her over his shoulder. She squelched and kicked and struggled.



“Ream! Let me—” He jumped. Kat’s scream was cut off as they disappeared beneath the surface of the water.



Logan looked at Kite. “We need to step on this shit.”



Kite smacked Crisis in the arm. “You’re no fuckin’ help, asshole.”



“Me? He needs to wake the fuck up. I’m helping him.” Crisis’s held up his hands, feigning innocence although his lips were twitching. What a shit disturber.



I bit my lip. Logan scoffed.



Ream and Kat came up from the beneath the surface of the water and Ream had his arm hooked around her waist, helping her to the side of the pool.



Logan met my eyes and I recognized the spark, knew it, felt it, and I remembered. I remembered when I’d first fallen in love with Logan.



He approached, a slow, casual stride. I stepped back one foot after the other. His eyes slid down me then back up again. Then, God that smile.



“Logan.” I held up my hand as I continued backward.



His brows rose to match his grin.



“Logan, no.”



“Yes, Emily.”



I turned and ran, but he was on me in two strides, looping his arm around my waist and carrying me kicking and screaming to the edge of the pool.



“Logan! Logan, don’t you dare.” I pounded my fists into his back. “No. Please.”



“Are you staying in my bed?”



“No, don’t. I mean yes.”



“I’m not understanding your answer. Maybe a little cold water will help.”



“Noooo.”



He leapt high into the air. I screamed.



I felt the cold water descend over my body, then my head as we went under. Logan’s hands were on me, holding me against him as we hit the bottom and he crouched and pushed off.



The moment I could suck in air, I struggled to dislodge his hands so I could swim to the edge of the pool. Logan was laughing so hard that he couldn’t hold onto me as I kicked out and hit him in the stomach.



“Bastard,” I yelled. I was trying my hardest to hold in my laughter and act all pissy, but when he caught me at the side of the pool and dragged me into him, I felt his lips on the back of my neck then the touch of his hands under my shirt, his skin against mine. He was caressing my abdomen then up across my ribs and ...



“Water clear it up for you any?” He nibbled the lobe of my ear. “I’m not asking for sex. But you’re in my bed.”



Resisting Logan was like stopping a freight train with my hands. “Okay.”



I saw Ream reach for Kat as she climbed out of the pool, snagging her hand. She paused, turned her head and all I saw the unquestionable rawness of hostility.



Ream said quietly, “Why, Kat?”



Kat never said anything, merely pulling away and walked back up to the house. Then Crisis and Kite cannonballed into the water.



Chapter 25



Despite the cold water from the pool, I was burning up. There was no denying my attraction to him had catapulted to another level. This wasn’t just love, this was an overwhelming debilitating love that I couldn’t even begin to decipher.



Soul gripping. Fuck, it was complete mind enfolding; not a single thought could be procured without him embraced within it.



Logan showed me to his bathroom upstairs on the third floor. Kat and I had stayed on the main floor since we’d moved onto the farm. It was odd seeing the second floor occupied by the band and third floor by Logan. The rooms had remained unused before the band came except for one on the second floor on the south side. Kat had been using it as an art room; now it was occupied by Crisis, when he stayed here.



The bathroom happened to have all my toiletries laid out; apparently Logan moved them from the downstairs bathroom. He took my hands, held them at my sides, and then bent his head and kissed me.



“When did you ...?”



“Texted Kite when you were working with the stallion.” He caressed my cheek then nodded to the right. “Wear the shirt to bed, baby.”



“What?”



He picked up a white button-down men’s shirt. I went to object and tell him I had my own pajamas when he scowled. “Seeing you in my shirt is sweet. And I want sweet tonight.”



Damn it. Stop. Why did he have to say shit like that? I mean what girl didn’t want to hear a guy telling her he wanted her in his shirt. That he wanted sweet and she’d be sweet in his shirt.



My mouth opened then slammed shut as he went over, turning on the taps. Water blasted out of the showerhead. He adjusted the water temperature.



He stood up straight. “You need help taking off those wet clothes?”



I rolled my eyes heavenward. “Out.”



Logan grinned holding up his hands. “Trying to be helpful.”



I let my pursed lips slip, and I smiled. I couldn’t help it, seeing Logan laugh and smile was contagious. “Out. Now.”



Watching Logan casually stride from the bathroom, I admired his ass in wet jeans, the corded muscles on his back visible beneath his white T-shirt clinging to his body like a second skin.



I leaned over and felt the temperature of the water—perfect. Peeling off my clothes, I hung them on the towel rack then stepped under the warm spray.



I washed as fast as I could to avoid the image of Logan that was afflicting me as I ran my hands over my body. I was imagining my touches were his hands on every inch of me.



Everything he’d done, he’d done to save me. To save us.



I was letting him in, and he was letting me in. I was sleeping beside him tonight, and I felt all giddy inside and a little nervous, but it was a good nervous.



I closed my eyes, hands against the wall, the water pounding into my body like he had during my captivity two years ago. His hands had been on my hips, fingers digging into my flesh as he fucked me from behind that day in the shower. His lips nibbled at the crook of my neck as he slowed, sliding in and out. I moaned, then begged for him to go harder, faster as he pulled out, hands wrapping around my hair and yanking my head back so he could take my mouth with a cruel, deep kiss that had my body screaming for more.



He’d been right. He was engraved in me, and no amount of time or washing or running was going to get him out of me. I had to accept that. I did accept that.



I leaned back against the tiles as more memories flooded.



I never heard the door open, nor the dropping of clothes on the floor, still lost in my grip of desire.



Hands cupped my cheeks, and my eyes flew open.



Our eyes locked.



Held.



Desire spiraled around us tying us together. Logan tilted his head, the water pounding down on him as he leaned closer.



I closed my eyes and inhaled him.



He was part of me.



Logan had never left me. And I knew that even if I denied us, I’d never get him out of me. Love didn’t work that way.



“You don’t get to touch that yourself without me.”



I moaned, and that was all it took before his lips crashed down onto mine. Our need was so intense every part of my body ached.



There was nothing sweet in his kiss. His force was bruising, relentless, and he stole my breath. My hands were all over him, gripping, fondling, pulling at his hair one minute then stroking his back the next.



“Emily,” he murmured as his mouth scorched my skin and nibbled across the curve of my neck until he was suckling my shoulder. His hands ran down my sides to my thighs then back up again. I leaned my head back, his rough hands caressing my wet skin. I needed it stronger. I wanted more.