Torn from You

“Guess I’ll ride your horse then lounge by the pool.”



He stopped what he was doing and was quiet for a second. “They’ve never been mine, Emily. Any horse here has always been yours. The bike is my horse. I’m not getting on anything that can kick, bite, and toss me on my ass.”



“A bike can toss you on your ass.”



“Yeah, but it’s not coming back to bite me afterward.”



“Logan, the horses aren’t going to bite you.”



“They can stand up on their hind legs and dump me on my ass then come down on my head with big feet that cost a fortune every few weeks to get manicures.”



I laughed. “You mean rearing up, and horses don’t like to step on people. Actually, they avoid it at all costs, and their feet are called hooves which need trimming every six weeks or you’ll have crabby horses walking around on overgrown turned up toes. For your information, Sculpt.” He growled low, and then set the fork he had in his hand on the counter and started stalking toward me. I moved to my feet, but not in time to avoid his dive for me. He snagged my arm and, in one swoop, lifted me up and over his shoulder.



“My real name. Always.”



“What are you talking about?” I teased.



“My name, say it.”



I knew what would happen and it made me giddy inside. It had been a long time since I felt this playful and relaxed. Fine, I could admit to being totally and irrefutably in love. “And what if I don’t want to—Sculpt?”



He smacked my ass and started for the stairs. “I’ll fuck you all day.” My heart rate tripled.



“You can’t. You’re meeting Deck.”



“Deck will understand.”



He squeezed my butt. “Sculpt. Stop.” But really, I didn’t want him to stop anything as he took the stairs two at a time, kicked the bedroom door open then closed, and then threw me on the bed.



“Say my name.”



“Sculpt.”



He came down hard on top of me, already tearing off my shirt. I struggled at first, laughing until his hand brushed against my nipple, and I gasped.



“Logan,” I said, knowing if I didn’t he’d torture me for longer than I wanted or could take.



“Again.”



“Logan.”



“You won’t do that again, will you?”



I hesitated.



“Tell me.”



“No, Logan.”



His mouth came down hard on mine, and then he fucked me.



Chapter 27



We had a week of lying by the pool and having sex and doing nothing but being together. He did spend some time with the band practicing, but the guys made themselves scarce whenever they could. I rarely saw Kat, and my guess was she was staying at the condo with Matt most nights. Whether it was to give Logan and me some time alone or to avoid Ream, I didn’t know for sure, but I was guessing the latter.



Georgie popped by with Deck, and we hung by the pool while Deck and Logan went off to chat. Logan had been strung up as tight his guitar strings, but he played it off as nothing but the plans for the party. I knew it was Alfonzo that was getting to him, but when I asked about it he threw me over his shoulder then took the stairs two at a time and tossed me on the bed where he had me forgetting everything except him between my legs. Then we did some slexing, and ate our next meal in bed.



It was sweet, and he fed me grapes and wine. He commanded and I surrendered to him. I never thought I’d find submitting to a man again sensual after what I’d seen in Mexico, but it wasn’t about that. It was about submitting to the love we shared. I realized giving up my control to Logan didn’t make me weak. It was my escape. My need, and he was fulfilling that by giving me what I needed. It was about complete openness and trust.



And I did love him. I never stopped; it had just been smothered.



“Eme.”



I looked up. Logan had stopped playing his guitar and was looking at me with eyes that were so exposed and revealing. I felt like I could see right into them, all his desires and strength, even a hint of uncertainty that lay beneath the depths.



We were sitting in the horse field like we used to do, and he was playing me the new song the band was debuting tonight at the party. It was mellow, raw, crass, and it brought tears to my eyes. His voice cut through the words as if he hurt to say them.



It was called “Torn from You,” and it was about us.



He reached forward and wiped the stray tear from my cheek. I leaned into his hand and smiled, closing my eyes. I never thought we’d get back to this place. I think I was afraid to hope that we could.



“That song’s going to make you famous. It’s beautiful. I love you, Logan.”



He put his guitar aside then grabbed me, flipped me onto my back and hovered above.



Slowly his weight lowered onto me, and I felt his cock press between my legs. It sent the raging through my body.



“Are you good with being fucked out in the middle of a horse field?”



I laughed, because it was out in a horse field where he had taken my virginity. “Yeah. I’m good with that. Now kiss me,” I ordered.



He chuckled. “I’m rubbing off on you.”



“Then stop messing around and put your cock inside me, rock star.”



“Jesus, Eme.” He groaned, and his mouth smashed onto mine. It was hard, and it was Logan taking what I was giving to him with every part of myself.



We were putting our clothes back on—well I was; he was doing up his jeans—when I heard the gate off in the distance clang.



I looked up. “Deck.”



Logan turned then quickly stood in front of me while I finished clasping my bra and pulled on my shirt. When I was done, I came up beside him and took his hand; he squeezed.



“Emily. Logan.” Deck chin-lifted. He looked pissed, but then again, Deck always was hard to read. His mood could easily be off because he had a shitty coffee this morning. “We need to talk.” He directed the statement at Logan.



Logan stiffened, and I knew Deck didn’t have a problem with shitty coffee. This was about Alfonzo.



“Eme.” Logan leaned down and kissed me then let my hand go.



“Is it about him?” I asked Deck. “Did you find him?”



“I told her.” Logan put his arm over my shoulders.



Deck nodded once. “He hasn’t resurfaced yet. But we do know he hasn’t crossed the border. We have that angle covered.” Deck nodded to me. “You mind giving us a few minutes, Emily?”



There was no point in asking if I could stay. Both these guys were super protective and they’d want to keep as much of this from me as possible.



“Okay. I’ll start getting ready for tonight.” I started to walk away when Logan snagged my hand and brought me up against his chest. Deck stepped away from us and turned his back. Then Logan was whispering into my ear with that sexy voice that dialed up my desire once again.



“Take a shower. Then lie naked on our bed on your back. Arms above your head. Legs apart, knees bent.”



My breath hitched, and I pulled back.



“I’m going to tie you up.”



Again my breath hitched, but because I remembered the last time I was tied up and left alone for hours.



I was still shaking my head no when he tucked my hair behind my ear and kissed the tip of my nose. “You trust me?”



I did. Despite what happened, I knew everything he’d done was to protect me. “Yes,” I whispered.



“This isn’t about being helpless. Or me dictating or controlling. It’s about you trusting me to give you what your body needs. It’s knowing I’ll always take care of you.”



I nodded, still hesitant at the thought of ropes around me. It made me nervous and unsure of myself, and yet, I wanted to trust him.



“I’ll be there in twenty.”



I nodded, and then he let me go, and I was walking away, my heart slamming against my ribs. Fear or excitement tap danced through me. There was a fine line between the two.



By the time Logan came into the room, my limbs were trembling so badly the bed was shaking.



His eyes traveled down my naked body then back up. His expression to others would look cold, dark, maybe even stiff, but what I saw was deeper, and it was awe. It was what kept me on my back and not running for my life. He looked so floored at the sight before him, and all my confidence skyrocketed, because I could do this to him.



He kicked the door shut, and the loud noise made me jump, but I kept in the position he’d asked of me.



“Emily.” His eyes were on my pussy that I swear was leaking wetness down the inside of my thighs having him stare at me like that. “Jesus.” His eyes came to mine. “I don’t deserve you.”



“Logan.” I wanted him to stop standing there and come to me, but he was taking his time, just admiring the sight, and it made me hotter, and I was shifting uneasily as my need heightened. “Please.”



Logan walked over to the dresser by the far wall, and opened the lower drawer. I heard him shuffling around and then he stood up straight with a black silk scarf in his hands. My chest started heaving.



The bed dipped.



He knelt near my head, the silk falling over his wrist as he reached for my hands. I jerked away, and he frowned. “You’re safe, baby.”



I nodded, but the thought of being tied up again and unable to get away sent my stomach churning.



He let the scarf fall to lie over my wrists then cupped my chin and turned my head to look at him instead of at the scarf. “You can always say no. One word and it stops. I think you need this. We need it. I want your trust, and to get that we have to work through what happened. Change what you’re feeling to something beautiful.”



“I have,” I breathed, and it was a lie.



“No, baby. You haven’t. I saw your face when I mentioned tying you up.” Logan leaned forward and kissed me. “You’re not ready, we’ll wait.”



He left the bed taking the scarf with him. The drawer opened, and the disappointment I felt was overwhelming. I did want this. I wanted him to have control. I needed to let go—completely. I wanted to wash away the bad memories with good ones, and Logan could do that.



“Okay.”



Logan turned.



“Please. I want to. I trust you, Logan.”



He walked back over to me and slid the silk over my wrists. I felt the desire swim through me to replace the fear. The smooth material caressed my skin like the tip of a feather as he glided it up each arm and then down again. It wasn’t rough and chafing, but soft and cool to my heated flesh.



He slowly wrapped the silk around my wrists above my head, but he didn’t tie them to the bed rungs like I thought he’d do. “You’re not ready for that. Another time.”



I was. I wanted whatever he wanted from me.



He stroked the side of my face. “I want you to submit and give all of yourself to me. Fear isn’t part of that.”



He slipped off the bed then began to undress, and I watched, aching to touch myself as each piece of clothing fell to the floor. Then he crawled up from the bottom of the bed, so his head was between my legs.



I was gripping the bed post so tight I heard it creak with my movements. I was arching toward him, wanting him to lick me, give me what I hungered for. What I needed.